He went upstairs and into the bathroom. Leaning forward on the sink, he took deep breaths for a minute before looking up at the mirror. His eyes went immediately to the scars on his chest and he scowled. He would not break the mirror, as tempting as it was, because it wasn't his. He'd already done that at home and gotten no small amount of grief for it.

When the urge to violence did not pass, he moved away and stripped his pants off. If he couldn't wish them away, maybe he could wash the feeling of being judged off. He started the shower, finding that point that was as hot as he could comfortably take it, then going a little past that.

Then he climbed in and stood under the heat.