Seto was very pleased with his little brother. Mokuba had somehow made the excursion to the mall, which was normally a tedious chore, fun. Seto had left the shop with several pair of jeans and half a dozen t-shirts. He'd voted against the t-shirts initially, until Kimmy brought out the part of the new shipment she'd set aside for Mokuba's perusal.
Seto crossed his ankles, secretly pleased with how the taper of the black jeans he now wore made the action seem elegant, somehow, and thought back to the moment where Mokuba convinced him to try a t-shirt.
His brother had entered the area set aside for the dressing rooms with something in his hands. At a glance, Seto could tell it was a cotton jersey, in some dark color, not the lighter-toned, twilled fabric he'd asked for. "Mokuba, that's a wretched t-shirt. I'll never wear one of those. That collared shirt in the front window certainly meets your requirement for casual..." His voice had petered to a halt as Mokuba opened the t-shirt. His eyes widened as he beheld what Mokuba now held between his hands, while the most innocently wicked sparkle simply danced in his little brother's eyes.
"Gimme!" Seto had growled, snatching the garment from his brother, thrusting his arms through the armholes and whisking it over his head as fast as he could manage. He turned to catch the image of himself in the triple mirror...
Only a bit more (lunch was hectic!)
Seto crossed his ankles, secretly pleased with how the taper of the black jeans he now wore made the action seem elegant, somehow, and thought back to the moment where Mokuba convinced him to try a t-shirt.
His brother had entered the area set aside for the dressing rooms with something in his hands. At a glance, Seto could tell it was a cotton jersey, in some dark color, not the lighter-toned, twilled fabric he'd asked for. "Mokuba, that's a wretched t-shirt. I'll never wear one of those. That collared shirt in the front window certainly meets your requirement for casual..." His voice had petered to a halt as Mokuba opened the t-shirt. His eyes widened as he beheld what Mokuba now held between his hands, while the most innocently wicked sparkle simply danced in his little brother's eyes.
"Gimme!" Seto had growled, snatching the garment from his brother, thrusting his arms through the armholes and whisking it over his head as fast as he could manage. He turned to catch the image of himself in the triple mirror...