Illya sat up, inadvertently exposing his whole chest in the process. “What does this have to do with anything? What do you mean how I look?”
He was confused. It was his chest, not his entire naked body. And he wasn’t sure why he taking his shirt off in bed meant that Napoleon couldn’t bring any of his dates back here. Maybe it was language. Illya’s English was very good, but things still sometimes got lost in translation.