Hans Larsson

"I don't need to make you a glam queen." Rekker started to laugh a little easier. "You were a bitchy fucking diva before I met you."

He's glancing at the singer too, uncertain about that compliment. Even medicated compliments were hard to accept. The electricity is there when the Swede gets closer and the cold rushes back into Rekker's fingers. He has to step away and makes to get the shampoo and get away from the singer and catch his breath. This is all about managing his anxiety so he doesn't have another meltdown.

Back in the water he can focus on something other than his anxiety. It takes maneuvering to pull all his hair around to the side so he can lather it and get the glitter out. There's a purposeful attempt to ignore Bjorn for a minute but he can't ignore the Swede. His eyes flicker over to stare. He just wished the meds worked faster to quell the mix of overpowering emotions he felt like were drowning him.