Sylas was a normal straight man. When he saw women that he thought were beautiful, it wasn't as though he was blind to it, nor was he asexual.
The difference between him and others was that he was also able to easily displace himself from that state of mind. What was below his waist didn't dictate his actions.
He had always known how beautiful Cassarae was. She was so beautiful that the boys of their high school were willing to wade through the hellish fires of that abusive mouth of hers just for a chance. Of course, too many failed. It wasn't easy to feign confidence in front of a mouth like that.
Still, Sylas couldn't help but wonder when she had become beautiful to him.
Cassarae's favorite choice of clothes growing up was a pair of loose pants with as many pockets as the design would fit and a shirt that was just as loose.
