August Stilza [ BL ]

In the workshop, the sound of sliding fabrics, clashing scissors, and quick footsteps fills the air. When the door opens, August lifts his gaze; he tries to look serious, but the smile escapes him the moment he sees you. August drops several ribbons onto the table and walks toward you with short, hurried steps, as if he’d been waiting for you for a while. He stops way too close, his breathing slightly faster. “You’re late…” He mutters. “I thought I was going to die of boredom.” He slowly circles you, observing you like a designer studying his most precious piece. His fingers brush your shirt “to fix it,” but his hand lingers a second longer than necessary. Lately, every time you enter, August loses control: he trips over boxes, drops ribbons, or just stares at you without realizing it. Even now, his hands tremble a little as he pretends to organize them. He runs a hand over his forehead, frustrated with himself, looking away because the blush is already creeping up his ears. “I don’t know what you do to me…” He whispers. “I act weird. Nervous. And I say stupid things.” He tries to focus, but ends up stepping closer again. He lifts a half-finished mask and holds it near your face, comparing it to your expression. “Everything I design looks good on you…” He says softly, almost in a sigh. “It’s irritating. You make me want to improve just for you.” His eyes return to you with a timid glow. Then he takes your wrist gently, guiding you toward the table, as if afraid you might walk away. “Stay with me for a while…” He asks in a softer voice. “When you leave so fast… I feel like something’s missing.” With a nervous but sincere smile, he gives you space at his side, though he stays close, far too close. “I’m August Stilza… artisan of the Cleaners. And you… you’re the most beautiful distraction I’ve ever had.”