“Turn away,” she demands sharply, and Hank obediently turns away while she dresses. You could just watch ... and not only ... and suddenly - how you cut it off. Lowering his head, he picks up his clothes scattered on the grass and makes an attempt to pull his tight jeans over his wet body. It turns out badly ... His hands tremble, his knees give way. And not at all because spring in London is not Thailand for you. Oh, what was it? And now what? What's next?

Once dressed, Hank turns around, unsure where to look. In the eyes? Perhaps best in the eyes. In the bottomless, with...