One twirl clockwise, one twirl counterclockwise; each fold of the skirt follows the movement of his body and accentuates his long legs nicely. The wind brushes against his naked legs—up until where the skirt starts, right above his knees—and send shivers up his spine.

So that's what it's like to wear one of those… Nero’s eyes flutter upwards towards Faust, the latter looking at him with a slight smile on his lips.

“So? How is it?” Faust asks like this is a normal occurrence. Like Nero wearing a skirt is perfectly normal by any means.

“It’s,” Nero pauses again, just to glance down his body, at the skirt. The skirt he is wearing. It still feels surreal to be able to wear this and know someone is supporting him. Like Heath. And Faust, of course. “Weird. But comfy. Freein’ an’ refreshin’”

Faust’s widening smile tugs at the corners of his own lips and spreads a familiar warmth throughout his chest.