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8~ |The Tamed King|

The clinking sound of the ring against the metal bar, followed by the rustling sound of the fabric echoes near the end corner of a second-clothes shop as Oswin drew the beige curtain closed. Not long after, the same sound reverberated again as he stepped out of the fitting room, dressed in loose black pants that barely reached his ankles and a stoic cactus print woven button-down shirt.

"The pants are too short. The shirt doesn’t suit you. Next," said Sean. 

The curtain continually draws open and closed by the same person. In front of the small fitting room, Sean was sitting with his ankle propped on one knee and leaned back on the chair, clearly finding amusement in the busy curtain.

"Too tight. Another," he commanded when Oswin came out with another set of clothes.

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