This was a totally platonic position to be in with the Praetor.

His chest was pressed to your back, his rather large frame blocking the sun from hitting your eyes. Frank's arms rested by yours, skin grazing skin as he carefully adjusted your position on the bow.

"Just like that..." he hummed thoughtfully.

Usually, he'd be extremely nervous, but Frank was in his element— archery. He didn't have time to be shy or nervous when he was helping you with your technique.

"Now fire when you're ready, and follow through." he whispered, breath hot against your neck. His fingers slowly pulled away from yours, granting you more freedom in your movements.

You were sure you'd be dead, or passed out by the end of this practice.