Aurélien was fixated on himself. More notable, he was fixated on his clothing. The stain didn’t show boldly against the fabric of his attire, but as it had begun to dried, it was beginning to stick out. He was sure many people wouldn’t notice it at first glance, but some glances were more perceptive than others, and thusly he’d need to change lest he risk appearing perhaps sloppy and disorganized - something he couldn’t risk at a party of such importance.
He caught Palis out of the corner of his eye and turned his head to look at the young man, whose gaze seemed to avert itself. Aurélien figured the young man was still surveying the workshop. It was a lot to take in, given how often his mother worked to insure that her brand was a step ahead and beyond others. She didn’t always succeed, even with her mind, but she worked hard to maintain the integrity of Reign. Even if it did fall behind the curve from time to time, it always returned in the next season or two with a design that seemed to shake the industry. Aurélien had learned that that was the fashion industry; sometimes brands would seemingly fall from grace, only to return and start the latest and most popular trend.
Aurélien had turned his attention back to his reflection, studying the stain in his waistcoat and dress shirt. He didn’t notice Palis’ approach until the shorter man was already taking up the breadth of the mirror with him. He looked at Palis through the mirror, smiling at his comment.
“You’re no burden at all,” Aurélien reminded Palis. “Would you like a vest, too?” Aurélien began to unbutton his waistcoat and slid it off. He tucked it in his hand and started at his dress shirt: he flared up his collar then undid his bowtie, letting that fall loosely around his neck before he worked at the buttons, undoing them one by one in a quick fashion.
He moved from the mirror when his shirt was undone. He moved towards the rack of extra clothing with his both his shirt and vest in his hand. His long strides made short work of the distance. He laid his discarded top and vest on the sewing machine then turned his attention to the rack.
“You like colors, don’t you?” he said back to Palis. “Are there any that you prefer? You’re wearing that golden vest today with that navy coat. Do you just want another white one? Maybe navy, too, to match your coat? Cream also goes well with navy, though if you do that, you’ll have to wear tan.”
Aurélien pulled shirts from the rack as he spoke, temporarily holding off his own need to dress himself until Palis was taken care of. He pulled a white dress shirt, followed by a navy one with white stripes, and then a solid cream one. He held them in one hand then grabbed a tan vest with his freehand, just in case. He quietly went to Palis, shoes tutting on the wooden floors as he strode up to the shorter man. The clothes were still on their hangers, so he held them out in front of Palis, as if envisioning the young man in the garment.
“I quite like the tan, cream, and navy combination if you wanted to change your vest, too,” he said. “If not, the navy shirt with the white stripes will break up the monotony of the color and still look nice with the vest you’re wearing now. White, of course, is pretty safe.”
Aurélien spoke with solid confidence, the bass of his voice accentuated by the low volume he was speaking in. He folded the shirts over his free arm and held the white shirt in front of Palis again. Focus was held in his gaze as he imagined Palis’ white shirt, new and pristine. He looked past the shirt for just a moment at Palis and took in the young man, who, in that moment, looked really young. His complexion was pale, accented by the pink hued undertone showing in his face. Palis was even small in every sense of the word. Aurélien could see and assume how thin and wiry his frame was when he was this close to the man, examining him for the sole purpose of dressing him. He supposed he was blessed with his mother’s attentive eyes when it came to people’s forms.
Above it all, Palis’ eyes were most remarkable. Before they had appeared brown but, again this close, Aurélien could see the azure pockets hugged by the dark chocolate ring. He did not realize how deeply and intently he was looking at Palis until a moment had past without a word from him. He blinked to disconnect himself before his eyes trailed to strawberry blonde locks sitting like waves on Palis’ head. Aurélien cleared his throat and pulled the navy blue shirt with white stripes out again and held it in front of Palis.
“What do you think?” he said, trying to get himself back into the conversation.
He caught Palis out of the corner of his eye and turned his head to look at the young man, whose gaze seemed to avert itself. Aurélien figured the young man was still surveying the workshop. It was a lot to take in, given how often his mother worked to insure that her brand was a step ahead and beyond others. She didn’t always succeed, even with her mind, but she worked hard to maintain the integrity of Reign. Even if it did fall behind the curve from time to time, it always returned in the next season or two with a design that seemed to shake the industry. Aurélien had learned that that was the fashion industry; sometimes brands would seemingly fall from grace, only to return and start the latest and most popular trend.
Aurélien had turned his attention back to his reflection, studying the stain in his waistcoat and dress shirt. He didn’t notice Palis’ approach until the shorter man was already taking up the breadth of the mirror with him. He looked at Palis through the mirror, smiling at his comment.
“You’re no burden at all,” Aurélien reminded Palis. “Would you like a vest, too?” Aurélien began to unbutton his waistcoat and slid it off. He tucked it in his hand and started at his dress shirt: he flared up his collar then undid his bowtie, letting that fall loosely around his neck before he worked at the buttons, undoing them one by one in a quick fashion.
He moved from the mirror when his shirt was undone. He moved towards the rack of extra clothing with his both his shirt and vest in his hand. His long strides made short work of the distance. He laid his discarded top and vest on the sewing machine then turned his attention to the rack.
“You like colors, don’t you?” he said back to Palis. “Are there any that you prefer? You’re wearing that golden vest today with that navy coat. Do you just want another white one? Maybe navy, too, to match your coat? Cream also goes well with navy, though if you do that, you’ll have to wear tan.”
Aurélien pulled shirts from the rack as he spoke, temporarily holding off his own need to dress himself until Palis was taken care of. He pulled a white dress shirt, followed by a navy one with white stripes, and then a solid cream one. He held them in one hand then grabbed a tan vest with his freehand, just in case. He quietly went to Palis, shoes tutting on the wooden floors as he strode up to the shorter man. The clothes were still on their hangers, so he held them out in front of Palis, as if envisioning the young man in the garment.
“I quite like the tan, cream, and navy combination if you wanted to change your vest, too,” he said. “If not, the navy shirt with the white stripes will break up the monotony of the color and still look nice with the vest you’re wearing now. White, of course, is pretty safe.”
Aurélien spoke with solid confidence, the bass of his voice accentuated by the low volume he was speaking in. He folded the shirts over his free arm and held the white shirt in front of Palis again. Focus was held in his gaze as he imagined Palis’ white shirt, new and pristine. He looked past the shirt for just a moment at Palis and took in the young man, who, in that moment, looked really young. His complexion was pale, accented by the pink hued undertone showing in his face. Palis was even small in every sense of the word. Aurélien could see and assume how thin and wiry his frame was when he was this close to the man, examining him for the sole purpose of dressing him. He supposed he was blessed with his mother’s attentive eyes when it came to people’s forms.
Above it all, Palis’ eyes were most remarkable. Before they had appeared brown but, again this close, Aurélien could see the azure pockets hugged by the dark chocolate ring. He did not realize how deeply and intently he was looking at Palis until a moment had past without a word from him. He blinked to disconnect himself before his eyes trailed to strawberry blonde locks sitting like waves on Palis’ head. Aurélien cleared his throat and pulled the navy blue shirt with white stripes out again and held it in front of Palis.
“What do you think?” he said, trying to get himself back into the conversation.
