"Who are you talking about?" Glen's question snapped Etien out of his daze.
It hit him then, he was in a seriously awkward position. His shirt was unbuttoned, barely covering his faint abs, and sweat clung to his stomach. Embarrassed, Etien yanked his shirt closed, clutching it tightly as his face turned bright red. He quickly slid off the Emperor's lap, something so humiliating, he never imagined he'd ever do it.
"I—I'm sorry for acting so out of line," Etien stammered.
He fumbled with his buttons, fastening them in the wrong places in his rush. Just as he reached down to grab his coat from the floor, Glen suddenly wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him right back onto the bed.
Etien let out a sharp yelp, trying to wriggle free. "Let me go!" he protested, but Glen rested his head on Etien's shoulder, sinking into the silence that had crept back into the room.
