The bathroom door creaked opened and Chase appeared.
The Australian was well over six feet and muscular with blonde hair, blue eyes and a permanent year round tan.
He had nothing but a damp small white towel around his waist; he was rubbing at his unruly mop with another towel his hands working in frenzied circular motions as he dried his hair.
Dan lay there upon his bed silent and as still as a statue.
He liked watching people, imagining what they were thinking or where they had come from and who they had been.
