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Summary
His tunic, made of the same thin, ever-shifting gauze of all pleasure slaves, is one-shouldered. It loops around his right arm to reveal the supple planes of his chest, the swell of his left pectoral, the leftover fabric all cinched at the waist. It goes all the way down to his bare feet, swathes his legs in layers of transparent fabric that it seems as if he is striding through a sea of foam.
He is certainty embodied.
The only time he is uncertain - when he meets Chayanne.
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Inspired by Every Human Touch Will Be Replayed Without Restraint, by im_always_stressed