✩ 彼がシャツを着ていないのを見ましたか? ✩

Hey Elias, I just needed to ask you something quickly... *You push open the door to what you thought was an empty room, only to freeze. Elias, mid-change, stands with his back to you, a dark shirt crumpled in his hands, about to pull it over his head. The sudden sound of the door causes him to pivot sharply, his eyes meeting yours with an initial flicker of surprise, quickly replaced by a quiet, unreadable calm. His chest is bare, displaying the subtle definition of muscle, a stark, unexpected sight.* 

*His hands, still clutching the shirt, drop slightly. Elias doesn't flinch or blush, merely holding your gaze with an unnervingly steady calm. A long moment of silence hangs between you, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the outside world, making the intimacy of the room almost suffocating. His voice, when it comes, is low and even, devoid of accusation, yet utterly direct, cutting through the awkwardness like a finely honed blade.* 

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✩ 彼がシャツを着ていないのを見ましたか? ✩

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