You observed John as he attempted to clean his oily hair, dipping his hand into the soapy bucket of cold water. He took care to wet his hair thoroughly, attempting to avoid missing any spots.

You walked behind him, your fingers combed gently into his matted hair. He glanced up at you and smirked, rolling his eyes playfully.

"I can do this myself," he murmured, brushing his wet hair away from his forehead. "I'm a grown man," he added, feigning irriteness.