Click.
The door gave a sharp click before swinging open with a barely perceptible squeak as Asher stepped out of the bathroom wearing a white top and shorts. His silver hair was still slightly damp from his shower, and he moved with the casual confidence to his space.
He walked toward his wardrobe—thankfully now properly positioned on his side of the room—and opened it to find the standard academy-issued outfits: combat wear for training sessions, casual indoor wear for downtime, and various uniforms for different occasions. Looking down, he found shoes and slippers arranged neatly below: sport shoes in two colors, white and black, along with the standard indoor footwear.
He picked out a comfortable tee shirt and began unbuttoning his white top, preparing to change into more suitable loungewear. The fabric had barely left his shoulders when he heard an indignant feminine voice pierce the air.
"Hey, you shameless bastard! Can you not stripe in front of me?"
