The question on the tip of her tongue is bitterly there, who did that to you so I may return the favour? But that question has not purpose, right now. Too often, he's a curled in animal, and if there is anything like friendship between them it's in that she has never pressed and he never digs. Her mouth parts on the question, like she might still do it anyway because for certain that was more concerning than privacy as she shifts in the water.

It is loud, she supposes, lets him know her movements as she shifts from where she had been sunk back up to her neck. Tilting herself forward, but still covering her enough to preserve... whoever is more concerned about modesty, at the moment.



"... I cannot be sure, but I believe you still have soap in your hair."