"Armawni," is how Adrian says his roommates name, calling it loudly. Adrian himself only ever feels like a teenager: sort of inexplicably angry and disgusting at all times, but in a cool way, he supposes. Although, coolness is frankly up for debate, considering his choice in swimwear.

Not that he's thinking about it much. No running in the pool, but like an untrained puppy, Adrian's running anyway. He vaults himself cleanly over the side of the hot tub, then immediately slips on its slick floor and disappears below the bubbling surface as the water swirls about. A second later, he pops over the side, draping his shoulders on the rim next to Armani. "Didn't get you wet, did I?"