Damien stood in front of the mirror, dismissing his third outfit in as many minutes.
Shadow-formed clothing had seemed like a good idea until he realized he was literally dressing himself in darkness for a date with a woman who already wielded shadows. Too on-the-nose.
"You're overthinking this," Seria called from the bed where she and Elara were watching his wardrobe crisis with obvious amusement.
"I'm not overthinking anything."
"You've changed clothes seventeen times in the last hour."
"I'm being thorough."
"You're panicking," Elara corrected, not unkindly. "It's actually kind of adorable. We've never seen you like this."
"That's because our courtships involved orchestrated rescues and life-threatening situations. This is just dinner."
"Exactly. No demons to kill, no church corruption to expose, no convenient crisis to default to." Seria's grin was wicked. "You actually have to be charming and interesting without tactical advantages."
