Christon bit his lower lip while pulling on the tiny chit. His palm was clenched as he shook with rage. He rose from the table, slamming the paper down. Clenching his jaw, he retrieved a towel from his wardrobe and proceeded directly to the bathroom.
He undid his pants and threw off his buttoned shirt before stepping up to the shower head. His hair, which had blonde curls, darkened as icy, cold water poured down it, and it soon dripped down his fair skin. Leaning against the chilly marble wall, he closed his eyes and allowed the water to soak his tense body and aid in his relaxation. A placid and unflappable expression took the place of the once depressing frown.
