The elf, staring back at you stunned

You seem to stand in a drawing room of some kind: with a huge fire place covered in gilding and silver work to one side, two plush armchairs turning to face it, while bookshelves, painting, and even a statue line the walls. The elf is standing before that fireplace, his cloak slung over one the chairs and his shirt in his hands. In just his green silk breeches, he stands before the fire place, his slender body glittering in the golden light, his form slightly turned to catch the heat.

You stares at you, gaping and stunned, his jaw working silently. Stripped to the wait like this, his delicate features seem even more lovely, and not one mark mars his exposed skin.