He took out the sweatpants. The material felt like liquid silk against his fingers. He didn't even need to look at the tags to know they cost more than his combat boots.
"Custom sizing?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.
"I was tasked with taking care of your Lyceum uniform so I know your size by now." Daphne replied smoothly, taking a slow sip of her water. Her violet eyes tracked his movements, waiting.
Zaeryn smirked. He set the clothes on the counter, hooked a finger into the knot of his towel, and let it drop to the marble floor.
Daphne's gaze immediately dragged down his body, drinking in the sight of him fully exposed under the harsh kitchen lights. She didn't blush or look away; she just watched him with that same sharp, appreciative hunger.
Unfazed, Zaeryn stepped into the boxers, before getting into the sweatpants. They fit perfectly, hanging low on his hips.
