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Summary
“But it’s been two weeks! I even caught him looking at me in the showers—the perfect time to…to do fucking anything!” he complained. Prism just rolled her eyes, shrugging. “Maybe the bitch wants you to make the first move. Ever think about that, bae?”
Flambae paused. He scoffed and shook his head, crossing his arms. “Why would I make the first move? I’ve got tons of twinks like him lining up at my door to get a piece of me. Besides—if I were to make the first move, then he’d know I want him.”
Prism waited for Flambae to elaborate, but Flambae kept his mouth shut. “Well, what the hell’s wrong with that? You want him, so just say something already.”