“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you,” Holland murmurs with a depth to his voice that is very different than his usual tone.

Setting his shirts aside, he take a moment to let Kell just look. For an Antari Holland has more scars than usual. They aren’t the small ones from cuts used for spell work. They’re reminders of his past. Of things taken from him. And he doesn’t care enough to shy from them. Especially now when Kells own shirt is removed. His skin is perfectly beautiful; fitting of that bright red hair and the cool blue of his eye. The stark contrast of black against ivory makes him hum low in his throat.

Kell is striking.

And apparently has zero self preservation.

Holland’s brow arches and his gaze slides from the others face to the front of his pants, “Take those off for me. You won’t be needing them.”