Victor sheds and folds the robe, just the way he folded his other clothes in the bathroom, meticulously neat.
He feels a little bit like a plucked bird. A lot like a plucked bird. Goosebumps, without those bright feathers, without any sort of hat or adornment. Just the trunks and the t-shirt and the sunglasses. After a glance for permission, he steps one leg into the tub, easing in, feeling the tingly feeling you get when you're immersing in hot water and your brain hasn't decided whether it's too hot or perfectly right.
Victor likes to think of that as the lobster-brain. You don't know whether you're about to be boiled, so you balk.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2011-02-08 05:38 pm (UTC)He feels a little bit like a plucked bird. A lot like a plucked bird. Goosebumps, without those bright feathers, without any sort of hat or adornment. Just the trunks and the t-shirt and the sunglasses. After a glance for permission, he steps one leg into the tub, easing in, feeling the tingly feeling you get when you're immersing in hot water and your brain hasn't decided whether it's too hot or perfectly right.
Victor likes to think of that as the lobster-brain. You don't know whether you're about to be boiled, so you balk.