"I like," he murmurs, sliding back up from the floor to tug his own pants and underwear beneath down with his thumbs, slipping the loose pants over his hips slowly. "Blurred lines."

Placing a hand against the center of her chest, he gives her a gentle nudge backward toward the running shower, steam already unfurling over the curtain around it. He steps out of his pants as he moves them backward, snatching a wash-towel from their pile next to the bath. His lips quirk upward again, eyes dropping down to her body again before meeting hers. Warm and down to earth brown, a good color.

"Before you worry about what you want to do with your hands, though. I'm here to help you wash your hair."