Anael took in a deep breath, and disappeared his wings long enough to easily get rid of his t-shirt. Then they came back, and he could feel his cheeks burning from the exposure of the brand between his collarbones. "Don't touch me here," he told Robin, his hand hovering over the sigil. He felt dirty, tainted and soiled. Ugly. He crouched to take care of his boots and socks. Then his jeans, and he was finally standing naked in front of Robin. Looking pained, already, his shoulders still hunched. Worse than that, looking defeated.