Just as Xion's hand gripped the knob, his wrist was grabbed.
The world tilted, and he found himself pressed against the hard door and equally hard Darius.
"Do you not like it?" The Archduke asked in a soft voice, but his words were full of implication. He tucked a loose black strand behind Xion's reddening ear. "Should I buy something else?"
"That's not—" Xion sputtered, words dissolving as warmth pooled under his skin.
His hands had instinctively landed on Darius' mostly bare chest, and he could feel the thrum of his heartbeat. It was rapid, loud, and unpredictable.
Almost… uneasy? Was he really nervous?
The realization emboldened the young man just a little. His fingers slid downward, brushing the damp skin and pausing at the ribbon left half-tied.
It was as tempting as it was worrying.
Without thinking, he adjusted it, fumbling like a clumsy nursemaid.
