Marvel walked into his empty, quiet bedroom. No lights were on, the only glow was from the crescent that grinned brightly through the window glass.
As he slipped into the bathroom, the first thing he did was switch the heater on. Gradually, the floor and the air turned warm. With the shower as background noise, he took a body towel from the storage, bringing it with him as he walked passing through some layers of bronze hairpieces that already became tangled and dull next to a pair of heels on the floor. A black long dress was lying beside them, and he just stepped on it nonchalantly, adding more wrinkles to the already crumpled fabric.
A squeaking sound appeared as he rotated the faucet and all at once the pours stopped, leaving only some tiny drops.
"You're sensitive to cold and yet…" Marvel mumbled, watching me sit hugging my legs on the floor in the shower corner, sinking my face on my knees. "A cold shower at midnight can't be that comfortable, right?"
