Lace had never felt so smooth, Johann thought as his fingers curled into it. It was an odd thought, for lace to be smooth. It was usually rougher, scratchier. It would leave faint red marks on Johann's skin whenever he brushed against it. That's why he didn't like it. But this- this lace was extraordinary. Smooth. Johann laughed faintly to himself as if he couldn't believe it.
"Smooth lace," he murmured as he turned to the man beside him, holding a piece up. "Smooth." The man smiled at Johann, and took a hold on his wrist. "Johann," he said, sliding his hand up to uncurl the lace from Johann's fingers. "You'll crease it."
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