The stylist ca back way faster than I expected, arms full, fabric draped over her elbows—delicate pieces layered one over another: silk, lace, and barely-there sh that caught the warm light and made every curve and line painfully easy to imagine underneath.
It looks like she bought Faye’s clothes first.
So were soft, clingy silk that would slide over skin like water. Others were thin lace, the kind that didn’t really hide anything so much as fra it.
A few sets were almost transparent, they were just a whisper of fabric with small patches of lace in all the wrong—and very right—places.
"Th-these are so of our best selections," she said, trying to keep her voice steady as she spread them carefully over a nearby couch.
"We have pieces suited for... different preferences."
Different preferences.
That was one way to put it...
Faye went completely still beside . Her eyes flicked over the selection—then away, then back again.
"...That’s a lot," she muttered.
"Take your ti," I said, keeping my voice easy.
That seed to catch her off guard. She looked up at like she’d been bracing for to push her again—but I didn’t. Not this ti.
I stepped back a little, giving her space. Not much.
But just enough that it didn’t make seem cowardly.
"You’re the one wearing it," I added. "Pick sothing you actually like."
"I thought you’d pick sothing for ."
"Just give a sec."
"Oh. Okay..."
Faye hesitated, fingers hovering over the couch before she finally picked a piece. It was the simplest of the bunch: a black silk set—a soft bra with thin straps and a low neckline, and a tiny pair of matching panties. Nothing wild, but definitely ant for the bedroom, smooth and snug without screaming for attention.
"...This one looks... manageable," she said quietly.
"Manageable?"
She shot a look.
"Compared to the rest, yeah..."
I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I reached past her, not touching her, but close enough that she’d feel the heat of it, my hand skimming over a lace thong that was more string than fabric, a bra made almost entirely of sh, before stopping on sothing else.
It was about ti I picked sothing that actually suited my own tastes, and for this one, I didn’t have to fake a thing.
I know what I like.
"...This one," I said.
Faye followed my gaze—and froze.
"...Cassian."
"Yes?"
"That is not ’manageable.’"
"I never said it was."
Color rushed to her face, neck flushing all the way down toward the collar of her shirt as she stared at the nearly transparent set.
"I’m not wearing that!"
"Then don’t," I replied easily. That seed to throw her off more than if I’d argued.
"You just said—"
"I said I like it," I cut in, glancing down at her. "Not that you had to pick it."
And that wasn’t a lie. Out of everything, that was definitely the one I was most interested in.
If there was ever a ti to be completely confident, it was now. I couldn’t afford to hesitate. If I ssed this up, who knew when I’d get another chance to bring her sowhere like this without it feeling awkward?
Faye stared at the piece again, then at , then back at it. The longer she looked, the redder her ears got.
"...You really like that one?" she asked, softer this ti.
"Yes." No hesitation.
That landed differently. She didn’t look away now. Her hand slowly reached out—and stopped just short of touching it.
"...It’s too much," she muttered.
"Is it?"
"It is!"
Faye crossed her arms, clearly torn about what to do.
On one hand, I was still her fiancé, so this shouldn’t be that weird... right? But at the sa ti, she’d only known for a single day.
Buying underwear together was already a massive leap.
But she couldn’t exactly say she hated it either. Instead of being creeped out, she felt like I was just being open with her. Besides, I wasn’t forcing her into anything.
And that realization seed to be the final nail in the coffin.
[Faye Amberlyne: Personality heavily shifted due to actions.]
[Quest nearing completion]
"I’ll give it a shot... it can’t hurt to try, right?"
She mumbled the words, a hand over her mouth as her face turned even redder.
That alone nearly drained every bit of willpower I had. I was this close to collapsing in sheer shock. I an... she actually chose it?
Sure, I was the one who picked it out for her, but it was supposed to be a suggestion, just to set the tone for future dates. I didn’t really expect her to go along with it!
"But... you’ll definitely be wearing sothing I like next ti."
Her voice dropped, sounding far more dangerous than I’d anticipated.
Still, I’m not backing down.
"Bring it on."
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