"Alright. It'll be quick." He hopes. Unless he trips or some other stupid thing.
Fortunately, he does not trip, nor does any other stupid thing occur in lieu of tripping. Once Ilde's back is turned, he's up, and he's taking high steps out of the shallows on tippy-toes, as if hopping is going to make this any more bearable. A little steppy dance may be performed as he shakes his towel free of the cloth bag in which he'd brought it, and as he rubs himself dry where need be.
Either he's had plenty of practice getting dressed in a hurry, or he's feeling especially nimble tonight (hint: it's the former), because Ilde will feel that promised tap before long. When she turns, she shall behold the glorious sight of some little dude in jeans and a hoodie—it's a fitted hoodie, not some lazy baggy business, but still—sitting down to pull on his socks. And then another pair of socks on top of those.
"Thanks... uh, d'you live around here? Have I been, like, getting naked in front of you this whole time?"
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Fortunately, he does not trip, nor does any other stupid thing occur in lieu of tripping. Once Ilde's back is turned, he's up, and he's taking high steps out of the shallows on tippy-toes, as if hopping is going to make this any more bearable. A little steppy dance may be performed as he shakes his towel free of the cloth bag in which he'd brought it, and as he rubs himself dry where need be.
Either he's had plenty of practice getting dressed in a hurry, or he's feeling especially nimble tonight (hint: it's the former), because Ilde will feel that promised tap before long. When she turns, she shall behold the glorious sight of some little dude in jeans and a hoodie—it's a fitted hoodie, not some lazy baggy business, but still—sitting down to pull on his socks. And then another pair of socks on top of those.
"Thanks... uh, d'you live around here? Have I been, like, getting naked in front of you this whole time?"