[Once he sends the message, he grumpily tucks in and wills whatever bad news awaits to go the fuck away.
He wakes with something of a headache around 7:30pm, meaning there's still half an hour before Dorian gets back. Going by the internet, the sun fully sets in twenty-seven more minutes. He washes his face and runs water through his hair—he could always scrub up later—before plonking himself down in the living room and whipping out some MoMverse CoD equivalent.
text to action;
[Once he sends the message, he grumpily tucks in and wills whatever bad news awaits to go the fuck away.
He wakes with something of a headache around 7:30pm, meaning there's still half an hour before Dorian gets back. Going by the internet, the sun fully sets in twenty-seven more minutes. He washes his face and runs water through his hair—he could always scrub up later—before plonking himself down in the living room and whipping out some MoMverse CoD equivalent.
Head shots are good. Really, really good.]