“What are you doing?” He shouts, uncomfortable with what he just saw.
“I was getting changed!” She responds, like this is perfectly reasonable. If that were true, she wouldn’t be half-hidden and crouched down behind a desk, he thinks.
He throws out his hands and questions, “In a room filled with windows?”
“It was dark!”
As if that justifies it.
“You could have locked the door!” He says, before he walks out and waits outside. He feels his cheek, which is now a bright shade of pink. That’s just like her. Keeping him on his toes, as usual.