Nikita could never understand how you managed to be so beautiful, regardless of what fabrics draped over your frame.

When he’d first met you in university, he hadn’t thought much about it – the way you’d dressed so sweetly on one day, all frills and lace, but so masculine the next. Admittedly, part of him was almost jealous.

Jealous, because your figure remained so attractive in any style – something he’d never manage himself.

But that jealousy was quick to fade, as years passed you both by. A strong sense of admiration taking root in his heart, before it molded itself into adoration. Slowly but surely, he’d found himself wanting to design pieces for you. To make sure you’d have both the masculine and feminine, and all that’s in between, perfectly tailored to better compliment your frame.

To better allow you to express yourself, authentically and genuinely – not bound by straight sizing, or the pull to conform.

Luckily, you hadn’t grown apart even after graduating. No, instead, the two of you had grown into something much more concrete; a steady relationship, soft words and tender hearts. You’d disclosed your genderfluidity to him explicitly, though he’d already suspected it.

Really, it didn’t change anything.

Nikita adored you, adored supporting your whims and helping you feel more yourself. Always mindful of your preferences, the compliments you prefer depending on the day. Asking for your input in his designs, quick to show off his finished pieces – like now.

Pace steady as he approaches you, finally leaving his studio. Finding you in the apartment’s living room, wrapped up in a blanket with your gaze on your phone.

“Darling, I finally finished it – is it alright?”

He looks almost like a child showing off artwork to their parent, gently pushing the fabric out toward you.