But there's no attempt being made on the other side to muffle any of the noises within. Eustace has better things to do (and a lack of understanding of Dokja's current condition )than to bother moderating his actions.
True to his word, he doesn't spend too much time in the shower. Past the brief minute he allows himself to stare blankly at the tiled wall in front of him, he moves with his usual efficiency, and it's not long until he's drying himself off with the provided towel and pulling on a clean set of clothes, blessedly free of dirt and sweat. He might be back at 100%, but he's feeling much better than when he crawled out of Alenroux with Johnny on his back.
Or, was, until he opens the door and sees Dokja sitting on the floor like some sort of sad abandoned animal left out in the rain.
The sense of unease from before grows, spreading out further underneath his skin, and he doesn't waste any in striding across the bedroom, not stopping until he's looming over Dokja a foot away. His damp towel hangs limply from one hand, forgotten in the wake of this more pressing concern. ]
Hey. [ It comes out a little more curt than he intends, worry twisting into brusqueness out of habit. ] What's going on?
[ Because there is definitely something going on here. No normal person huddles on the ground with their eyes trained on the door while their housemate showers for five minutes. ]
no subject
But there's no attempt being made on the other side to muffle any of the noises within. Eustace has better things to do (and a lack of understanding of Dokja's current condition )than to bother moderating his actions.
True to his word, he doesn't spend too much time in the shower. Past the brief minute he allows himself to stare blankly at the tiled wall in front of him, he moves with his usual efficiency, and it's not long until he's drying himself off with the provided towel and pulling on a clean set of clothes, blessedly free of dirt and sweat. He might be back at 100%, but he's feeling much better than when he crawled out of Alenroux with Johnny on his back.
Or, was, until he opens the door and sees Dokja sitting on the floor like some sort of sad abandoned animal left out in the rain.
The sense of unease from before grows, spreading out further underneath his skin, and he doesn't waste any in striding across the bedroom, not stopping until he's looming over Dokja a foot away. His damp towel hangs limply from one hand, forgotten in the wake of this more pressing concern. ]
Hey. [ It comes out a little more curt than he intends, worry twisting into brusqueness out of habit. ] What's going on?
[ Because there is definitely something going on here. No normal person huddles on the ground with their eyes trained on the door while their housemate showers for five minutes. ]