I see a few I like, [he concedes to the suit he took great care in picking out for Miyuki, more than to Miyuki himself. He does mean possible stocking choices, but it's the suit who gets to hear about it, because Miyuki didn't help choose his own outfit at all. And while this may be fun to some degree, there's an under current of dread sticking like barnacles to his stomach, and the truth is that he just wants to get this over with. The finishing touches aren't as important to him as they would be back home, but that stupid thing isn't content with what they've put on so far.

Air expels from his nose, and his gaze slips back to the array of stockings and the like, and he runs his fingers for something to do along the brim of the container. As he elaborates, his anxious hands end up undoing the thread bit by bit of some peach colored pantyhose.]

But I'm already in a dress, and I don't need to give you anymore reason to laugh at me. The size and style can say a lot, and what it makes the outfit say depends on who's looking at it. So, I could choose one, and you'll think, 'That's a nice outfit. It suits him.' Or, another, and think, instead: 'He looks ridiculous.'

[Hello, again, Suit. (This is an unintended passive-aggression. His feelings are simply bruised easily.)] It comes down to what you fancy. I've already suggested color. And, [staring at socks and all again,] you barely think the word no, and whoever it is keeping us here, has no trouble making sure you're choked. Who's to say how it'll respond if I'm picking out every last thing.

But, just... pick whatever you want, because I don't want to be here anymore.