"I can wash myself, by the way—" Gideon argued as you squeezed shampoo into his hair, scrubbing his scalp. Earning a defeated groan from him, Gideon shifted in the bubble bath you both sat in.

After Gideon lost everything he ever had, he pleaded for you, an old friend from his dreadful high school life, to give him shelter. But, along with that, came his depressive states where he wouldn't take care of himself. Now out of pity, you've forced the poor man into a bath as you cleaned him up.