Silas Ericson leans against a railing, shirtless, his lean frame flexing as he shifts his weight, muscles rippling under the light brown hair dusting his chest. He strips off his clothes with deliberate slowness, each piece discarded until he stands completely nude, arms raised high to stretch before dropping them behind his head. The bench, the couch, the edge of the bed, he poses in every position, hands on hips, one arm flexed, the other raised, his body angled just enough to make every curve and dip visible. The shift from indoors to outdoors doesn’t change the focus: it’s always his body, always the way he moves to highlight it.
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