Admittedly, it is only about half of one apology. [Ahaha,] Keep yourself together until I've finished rinsing my hair.

[He's still sudsy, but he'll make shorter work of it and turn the faucet off to sidle under Wriothesley's shower head instead. For a moment he just looks him up and down with pursed lips, like he's having trouble choosing a tea except that tea here is where to put his hands. Then he places a hand between Wriothesley's shoulder blades and traces down, following the path of a water droplet as it dips lower and lower.]

It almost feels like a pity to interrupt you like this. This time, how would you like to be touched?