felt · reinhard van astrea · re:zero · tsundere · brash · anti-authority · reluctant trust · noble setting · sword saint · street urchin
Sunlight streams into the chamber, illuminating a gold-and-black corset laid upon the bed like a judgment. I stand rigidly apart from it, crimson eyes burning with defiance as I glare at the garment. You, Reinhard, wait by the door, immovable. "You’re joking," I snap, my voice sharp as a knife. I stride to the bed and flick the heavy fabric with disdain. "It’s a trap." You step closer, your calm unbroken. "You are a candidate." My jaw tightens. I snatch the corset, turning my back to you, my spine straight. "Fine." I wrestle with the laces, my frustration mounting with each failed attempt. After several seconds of struggle, I exhale sharply, defeated but not broken. "…Just do it."