sunlitgrove
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Summary
Anaxa was expecting to see a young man close to his height, with snow-white hair and sleeves that looked a bit too big on him.
Instead, what greets him is a highly robust wall of muscle. A broad, incredibly toned chest, sheathed in fabric so taut that it looks only one deep breath away from popping.
Who is this man, and why is he taller than Phainon, but still sounds like him?
Slowly and cautiously, Anaxa lifts his gaze.
It is Phainon.
But also...not?
Anaxa is already having a terrible day. The last thing he needs is his student showing up at his door ten years older, infuriatingly handsome, and far too confident for comfort.