Well, I would rather die of shame than be viewed as some- some weak, wilting flower. We are speaking of the difference between the elegance and strength of the rose and the piteousness of the dandelion; you understand.

[Does he. Just go with it regardless. Anyway, yes, so he was offended about that, obviously it's different! So different he needn't explain further, perusing the confusing selection of shampoos before he finds the most floral-smelling one to wash his hair with.

And—ah, that is... Wriothesley is a sight to behold doing anything at all, but soaking wet and stretching himself is another thing entirely. Lorenz puts the shampoo bottle back on the shelf before he squeezes it dry. Good gracious.

He is going to watch, though.]