"Is that a promise?" Zevran crackles a soft laugh, happy to lean up and close the distance. Anyone else- any other garment, armament? He would assist with the removing without thought. But the prosthetic is...intimate in a way he is not certain that he has quiet earned. Cautious and curious he brushes the buckles with his fingertips, brows lifted.

Is this permissible, or is that not for him to do?