Feeling the cold water press against his skin calmed Aleksandr down.  He closed his eyes, letting the water fall over him like he had when he was outside.  He moved his head, letting it sprinkle on his face.  He was enjoying the shower too much, but he didn't care.  His hand slid down his abdomen and slowly made its way lower...

Father Seraphim finished the dishes. They were long over due for a cleanse.  They had been piling up in the sink for a week, now. He let out a small sigh, glancing over at the bedrooms. His half smile re-appeared on his face. He had sometimes wondered what it was like to have an actual daughter.  Of course, he had many children in his parish--as he [I]was[/I] the priest, but none he loved more than his own.  Nonetheless, he would take care of Sylvia.  He glanced at an icon hanging on the wall of the kitchen.  It was the icon of the Last Supper. Aleksandr had painted it diligently.  Perhaps, Alekandr's lack of interest in iconography was what made his artwork so notable.  He rubbed his temples, reminding himself that the rest of the iconography was painted by his late wife...

He shook his head and carefully and quietly made his way to his own room to read and rest.  Vespers was tonight, of course, and he wanted to at least be functional for his own job.

Aleksandr's eyes fluttered a bit, as he let out a soft moan, biting his lip.  His shoulders relaxed as his hand dropped to his side.  The cold water continued beating on him as his legs became numb.  He drew in several breaths. [I]God, I needed that.[/I]  He turned to the shower faucet and twisted the nobs off.  The water died down. He stepped out of the shower and opened the only cabinet available in the bathroom--pulling out a towel. He dried himself off, feeling [I]much[/I] more relaxed than before.

As he dried himself off, he realized in his storm of anger, he had forgotten to get an extra pair of clothes. He stared at his crumpled laundry on the floor. He could either put his old clothes back on and go get new clothes or wrap the towel around him and get new clothes.  He closed his eyes. [I]Sylv is probably asleep.[/I] He drew in a nervous breath, wrapping the towel around his waist.  He opened the bathroom door carefully and quickly jetted to his bedroom.  He peaked his head inside, seeing that Sylvia [I]appeared[/I] to be asleep. He carefully walked to his closet and closed the door to change.  [@Arista]