His Mate, My Spy
Damien moved toward one of the cars, already pulling off his jacket.
In a few practiced motions, he changed out of his formal work attire into something simpler - dark jeans, a fitted shirt, and a jacket that blended easily into any crowd. He adjusted his sleeves, his movements calm, deliberate.
When he was done, he glanced at Robin Hood.
“You’re not changing?” he asked.
Robin Hood leaned casually against one of the cars, arms crossed.
“No,” he said. “I’m good.”
Damien raised a brow slightly.
Robin Hood smirked faintly.