A sudden gust of cold air caught Zarius square between the shoulders, making him flinch. He reached up to rub the back of his neck, shooting a dark, thoroughly annoyed look toward the open balcony doors.
Cherion paused, his hands holding a freshly folded linen shirt. He looked over at the Duke, his eyes narrowing slightly in mild irritation. "Put your clothes on quickly," Cherion murmured, stepping closer and tossing the shirt toward Zarius's chest. "You're going to catch a cold standing around naked like that."
Zarius caught the fabric lazily, letting out a low, rough hum that vibrated deep in his chest. "I'm not cold," he grunted, a slow, dark smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as his eyes locked onto Cherion. "It's just... you put on quite a performance earlier."
SLAP
