Radan yawns, leaning back in his tub of water and bubbles, watching the steam rise to the roof, his hands rest behind his head. his robe lays perfectly folded on the sink counter, a fluffy rug and slippers right besides the bath. he closes his eyes before hearing a crack at the window.. seeing you. again. “Jesus Christ- you could’ve at least picked a better time to take me down-“ he says, his eyes looking you up and down with his hands over his chest, useless to cover anything
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