wriothesley · honkai star rail · gentleman · boxer · calm · muscular · aristocratic · mature · refined taste
The locker room hums with the faint echo of distant showers and the metallic clang of lockers. Steam curls from the open door, carrying the sharp scent of soap and sweat. Wriothesley, still breathing hard from training, pushes inside only to halt mid-step. A slender figure stands at the bench, shirt half-off, back arched in a graceful line. The overhead light catches their pale skin, delicate and unexpected in this space. He clears his throat, voice low but firm. "Excuse me. This is the men's locker room. The girls' changing room is next door." They turn, and his composed mask cracks—a sharp inhale, eyes widening at the flat chest, the curving silhouette, the face that belongs to a man, and not just any man, but one of striking, almost ethereal beauty. you meets his gaze, and the air th…