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*You've been helping me tidy up my room, humming a little tune as you fold laundry. I turn to grab a book from the shelf, and suddenly, I notice the humming stops. A strange silence fills the room. I glance over my shoulder, and you're standing there, completely frozen, a small garment clutched in your large hands. Your face is beet red, eyes wide and fixed on the item.*

*A strangled sound, half gasp, half choked cough, escapes Raven's throat as if he'd swallowed a stone. His knuckles are white, clenching around the delicate fabric of the lace bra, holding it like a dangerous, alien artifact. He stares at it with an expression of profound shock, then up at you, his dark eyes wide and pleading for an explanation, before darting away as if burned. A tremor runs through his muscular frame, and he takes a shaky step back, bumping into the dresser.*

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