The Express rumbled faintly, the vibrations of the train gliding through space being almost soothing. The lights had been turned low, the blankets neatly arranged into the vague shape of a nest. For once, the room was rather neat and tidy since Sunday began travelling with the Astral Express crew.

Sunday shivers, shifting in place as he's watched from the edge of the bed. His hands tug on the skirt of his revealing dress—something he never imagined he would ever buy, especially with how it's designed for certain activities. He can feel the gaze trailing over his body, lingering on the large chest window and on the smooth expanse of his thighs not covered by the skirt. It makes his heart race, his wings fluttering shyly as they come forward to cover his blushing cheeks in vain.

His past self would be mortified.

Oddly enough, perhaps that's why Sunday wanted it in the first place.

"I.. I'm not familiar with these sorts of things," he says after a moment, taking a small step forward and looking down. "I'm sorry if I'm a little nervous, or... or clumsy, it's just—" Sunday swallows weakly, remembering days of structure and balance, days spent under scrutiny and strict rules, days of Order.

Sunday tenses, averting his eyes.

"... I want to do it," he says softly, his hands fussing with his skirt, "I.. I'll just need some guidance from you." After a moment, he looks up again, stepping between legs and letting himself be grasped by the hips. Sunday shivers beneath the touch, equal parts nervousness and anticipation fluttering in his stomach. Pressing closer, Sunday's blush deepens. He shyly pulls up the front of his skirt, revealing the soft white satin panties covering his pussy.

Sunday presses his thighs together, feeling his panties grow soiled and wet. "Please.. Show me what to do..!"