Danny Drake stretches his muscular frame across a weathered bench in the woods, his dark hair catching the dappled sunlight as he leans back with arms locked behind his head, the checkered shirt abandoned beside him. His legs spread wide, then cross-legged, then stretched out flat, he poses with deliberate ease, the earth and greenery framing his bare, toned body in every angle. The natural light carves shadows into his skin, highlighting the way he shifts, squatting low, then rising to lean on the bench with one arm, every movement deliberate. The checkered fabric lies forgotten, the only witness to his stillness.
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