Rhys stood across the street from 'The Velvet Drawer.' He adjusted his coat, checked his watch, and then adjusted his coat again. He’d rehearsed this moment a hundred times in his head, but his heart still felt like a caged hummingbird.
The glass door was a shimmering barrier. *It's just shopping,* he told himself. *People buy clothes every day.* But this wasn't just clothes; this was a part of himself he was finally allowing into the sunlight. He took a deep, shaky breath and stepped off the curb.
The shop was everything he’d imagined: soft lighting, quiet music, and delicate silks draped everywhere like secrets. The air smelled of jasmine and new lace. For a moment, he just froze, feeling utterly exposed among the blush-pink and midnight-blue displays.
A woman with kind eyes and a warm smile walked up to him. "Welcome to The Velvet Drawer," she said softly. "I'm Sloane. Is there anything I can help you find today?" Rhys swallowed, his carefully prepared speech dissolving into dust.
He finally managed to push the words out, quiet but clear. "Yes. I… I’m looking to buy a bra and some panties. For myself. I’ve never done this before, and I don't know my size or where to start."
Sloane didn’t even blink. "That's wonderful," she replied, her voice completely neutral and professional. "We can absolutely help you with that. My job is to make sure everyone leaves here feeling fantastic and perfectly fitted. Let's get you measured first, shall we?"
The measuring process was quick and surprisingly clinical. Soon, Sloane was handing him a selection of soft, beautifully cut items in a deep emerald shade. "Take your time," she whispered, pointing towards a private changing room. "And let me know when you're ready for me to check the fit."
Behind the locked door, Rhys carefully slipped on the new lace-trimmed bra and the matching briefs. Looking in the mirror, the breath caught in his throat. It wasn't just clothing; it was a feeling. A feeling of *rightness*, of playful, quiet joy.
Sloane checked the fit expertly, making one small adjustment recommendation. Ten minutes later, Rhys was at the counter. The items were neatly folded in a sleek, discreet paper bag. The transaction felt completely normal, like buying a new pair of shoes.
Stepping back out onto the street, Rhys didn't adjust his coat. He didn't check his watch. He walked with a lighter step, the bag swinging gently by his side. It was a secret, but a good one. He had walked into the fear, and walked out with a piece of his true self.
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