Pulling himself from a sleepy Tim's grasp, Ivo steps around the flat as quietly as possible. He hums to himself as he showers, deeply massaging the shampoo into his hair and pondering getting it cut. The rough towels pinken his skin as he dries himself and the cold water dripping down his back is soothing to it.
There is a moment when he stops to admire the sleeping form of his boyfriend passed out on the settee. One foot gracing the floor, arm thrown casually behind him and lips parted in a sigh. His chest rises and falls in time and he moans every now and then. Leaning against the door frame, Ivo takes a moment to collect his thoughts on the night before. It seems like a hazy distant memory now. He has to go into their bedroom just for some proof and sure enough the scarf is lying discarded on the bed.
It certainly doesn't look very imposing; like it carries any hidden secrets. But it does and Ivo has a fancy that it calls out to him as he picks it up. Opening a drawer to stow away the criminal cloth he stops. Reaching into the drawer he pulls out a book that has crumpled five and ten pound notes sticking out the sides.
'Sergius', Ivo reads across the first page that does not have a hole cut through it and his brow furrows. He shrugs and places the book back along with the scarf for company. Tim's habits never do make sense to him and he has learned that is best left alone.