[HELLO, ROOMIE... At some point late into Monday night, Sumire is going to return to their shared room looking a little bit, uh. Moist? Which is to say, she looks like she recently took the Nestea plunge in a piranha pit. Her clothes and hair are wet, and her face and arms are scratched up, a stray bite here and there.
She pauses once she spots him, glances around the room like she's wondering what to say, and then settles on a very awkward:]
... Please, excuse me.
[DON'T... MIND HER AS SHE TRACKS A LITTLE BIT OF WATER ACROSS THE FLOOR TO GRAB SOMETHING FROM THE CLOSET. IT'S FINE. THIS IS FINE.]
week zero, monday night.
She pauses once she spots him, glances around the room like she's wondering what to say, and then settles on a very awkward:]
... Please, excuse me.
[DON'T... MIND HER AS SHE TRACKS A LITTLE BIT OF WATER ACROSS THE FLOOR TO GRAB SOMETHING FROM THE CLOSET. IT'S FINE. THIS IS FINE.]