☆exposed~otto~☆

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You ran a brush through your hair lazily, humming a song that you learned a long time ago. Otto was out, and you were alone in the apartment. The perfect time to sing.

Nobody knew you sang. Not even your family. You had fatal stage fright, and you only sang when you knew you were completely alone.

You sang the words out with feeling. This song meant something to you. It meant youth and freedom. Love and forever.

You did small tasks around the apartment as you sang. Sweeping, dusting, those types of chores.

Finally, you rounded the corner near the door, and you nearly banged into Otto. "Otto!" you yelped in embarrassment. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough," he smirked. "You didn't tell me you could sing." "Intentionally." You could already feel your face heating up. "Oh, don't be embarrassed, babe," he cooned, pulling your waist and hugging you. "It's pretty."

"Thank you," you muttered. "But don't expect me to sing for you now. I still have stage fright."  "Okay."

Otto was still staring at you, traces of amusement written in his features. "Stop!" you whine, turning your face away from him. "Aw, did I embarrass you?" Otto kissed the top of your head. "Yes," you grumbled reluctantly. "I'm sorry," he giggled. "Ugh," you groaned. "Stop being cute. I wanna be mad."

Otto just laughed.

//waterparks preferences//Where stories live. Discover now