She notices, of course. Her eyes skitter up to meet his, the barest hint of a smirk pulling at one corner of her mouth.

If anything, she's gotta be grateful, the bubbles aiding the Epsom salts to make the water murky. No peep shows here.

"You sound better," she comments, setting the towels down by the tub (the clothes she left on the dresser outside), as she moves to collect his discarded things and clean up a bit of his mess.