*With a thankful smile, she disappears first into his room for some clothes, then into the bathroom to change... Moments later, she pushes out the door - kicking her soaked clothes ahead of her, the bottom of one of his t-shirts inbetween her teeth as her fingers fiddle to tighten to drawstring of the sweats, speaking around the fabric.* Y'got a drier up here? Or do you need me to run downstairs to the laundry room? -- .: The West Place :.

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