[And this is how he comes out: a quiet push of one hand against the side of the sliding door, gaze on the floor, towel around his neck, hair barely dried, feet softly padding their way towards the bed. When he reaches his destination, he's silently sinking down, turning on his side, and curling up.
His gaze meets yours just once before they're sliding away, to some point on the wall behind you. He is completely spent, utterly exhausted, and well past the point of simply being lost and not knowing what to do.]
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His gaze meets yours just once before they're sliding away, to some point on the wall behind you. He is completely spent, utterly exhausted, and well past the point of simply being lost and not knowing what to do.]