It's just the trauma talking

Ronin was coming. And when he was done, he pulled on some clothes and padded downstairs to get the door. He'd heard someone knock - distantly, albeit, through the haze of pleasure and Vanya that had seized control of his mind - and only now did he feel it appropriate to check if they were still there. Clicking the door open to gaze into the dusk, Ashetta would be greeted with a very ruffled Ronin indeed, his shirt hastily buttoned, his feet bare, his pants still undone. "Ah," he said quickly as he regarded the woman he considered a sister, pink flushing across his cheeks. Clearing his throat, he straightened up and clumsily tied his pants, stepping aside to let her in. "Uh," he continued helpfully. "Hi." Unable to keep up the pretense, Ronin burst into laughter. "Wow, this is awkward. I can give you a hug, but I think we both know I smell like sex." He opened his arms for her. RONIN Darkness is a funny thing. It creeps up on you.