❝ Oh, Stanley, it's like you practically threw your clothes on this morning. Look at those wrinkles! Look at your collar! Have you no regard for any form of dress code Stanley, mm? Mph. It truly is amazing you haven't been fired. Here now. ❞ Gently, Stanley would feel " hands " grazing over his shirt, smoothing it out, moving upward & straightening his collar. & oh, the feel of worn fingers brushing the edge of his jawline. Not that there's anything to be seen DOING these things, rather - just a content sigh that serves as any kind of proof that the man isn't imagining things.
❝ There, isn't that muuuch better? ...Say, were you always lacking a tie? ❞ // @ sillytime *wink
... & stanley has half a mind to swat the ‘hands’ away -- he’s 31 ... (or , was it 32? do you even still remember , stanley? would be a bit embarrassing if you didn’t ...) not 13 , & this is what he always looked ... right? why was it a problem now , to be the slightest bit messy -- it’s not like anyone was around to see , anyhow!
still , he doesn’t give more than an eyeroll , & there’s a part of him that sighs --- comfortably , even longingly at @sillytime ‘s gentle , ghostly touches , they feel soft , warm -- even if there wasn’t anything there to begin with. (& even still , there’s that bastardly side , that wants to flick up the collar of his shirt again , wants to roll up his sleeves ... he doesn’t.)
--- ties , bowties , neckwear , whatever you want to call it. the last he remembers , he wore a clip-on tie , once. during a meeting , stanley thinks ... he doesn’t remember too clearly. he remembers being tired that day. & so he just averts eye contact. (with what or who exactly? he’s not sure ... he’s just averting it , glancing off to the side.) & he simply shrugs.