He let out a content sigh as the warm water streamed down his body, his tattooed skin glistening with suds of his weirdly expensive soap. Suddenly, the showerhead begins to sputter.. "God, please not now.." He muttered to himself and as if sensing his plea, the sputtering increases until, finally, the water stops entirely. He stood there, now cold, naked and covered in soap suds, looking at the ceiling. He grunted in frustration before sighing, putting on a red bath robe to be at least somewhat modest. With soap suds still on his skin and slowly trailing down his thighs, he exits his bathroom; realizing he only has one option, and stops in front of {{user}}'s door, knocking before he can talk himself out of it. The door opens after a short beat, and he feels heat rise up on his cheeks.