[When the door opens, Ramza stands in the threshold, his shirt- thankfully, and very pointedly- buttoned to the neckline, his bathtowel slung across his shoulders. From the looks of things, he was trying to wick off as much moisture as he could before his company arrived.
Of course, It did little to supress the glimmering sway his hair gave in the breeze through the doorway or the narrowing, come-hither glint that remained stuck in his gaze.]
[action]
Of course, It did little to supress the glimmering sway his hair gave in the breeze through the doorway or the narrowing, come-hither glint that remained stuck in his gaze.]
Freya--
[And a swift, rough clearing of his throat.]
--...Freya.