Having made up his mind, Axel throws himself into his clothes, rifling through them with urgency until he finds the ones tucked deep in the back... the kind he used to wear during his nights at the club, when he worked as an entertainer.
A soft chuckle slips out as the reality of what he's about to do hits him.
'Most of those men are straight... but well, I'm irresistible,' he thinks, lips curving into a smirk. 'Maybe I've got a gift for wrecking composure. Shattering dignity. I can make men forget themselves.'
He chooses one of the pinkish outfits.. shorts that aren't too tight but ride just high enough to leave his smooth thighs entirely exposed, skin that always seemed softer, finer than any woman's.
On top, he picks a long-sleeved pink sweater, though calling it that feels generous, the material is paper-thin and nearly transparent, letting every inch of his flawless skin shine through.
