“Wow. These are nicer than mine,” Rook sneers from the bed, holding up my other two pairs of boxers from the pack. “Why, what do you wear?” Velle rumbles to him. “Hanes tighty whiteys?” Rook glances at Velle, who smirks. “Wouldn’t you like to know…” The two of them have a stare down for a second, and the tension in the room is palpable.
