His shirt, damp and loosely worn, revealed his chest as only two buttons were fastened, while he stood before the mirror adjusting his wet hair with a towel draped around his neck. Your entrance without a knock didn't faze him, as Alhaitham had grown accustomed to your unannounced appearances over time.

"What now?" he asked with a small sigh, casting a glance in your direction before fully turning to face you. "My hair... what about it?" There was a hint of resignation in his tone; he knew you'd likely ask him to style it.