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    Summary

    Theseus led him to the large poster bed, heavy curtains hanging. With a flutter of his hand, Theseus opened them and stepped aside for Percival to get a look.

    Newton Scamander was indeed a beauty.

    Percival’s gaze drank him in, taking every fine inch of him, pale creamy skin with soft freckles. Copper hair framing an exquisite face, full plush lips and long dark eyelashes. The boy, barely twenty, slept on as Percival inspected him.

    “May I?” Percival asked and Theseus nodded easily.

    Language:
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