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Summary
“This doesn’t fit... August Stilza, fashion designer, master craftsman, maker of garments that fit like second skins…somehow forgot to measure?”
“What can I say?” He reached for the hem of the dress, lifting it slowly. “Your beauty got me flustered. Made me forget how to do my job, my life's work, properly.” Reaching for the measuring tape around his neck. “This simply means I’ll need to take fresh measurements. This very second”
He brought his hands up, fingers ghosting over your collarbone. “So. May I, my dear?”