Where are Chelsea's Clothes?!

There was a long silence. I stared at the bathroom door, visualizing the other side. Chelsea was in there soaking wet, probably getting cold. She must be confused, probably annoyed, and getting nervous. She had nothing to dry off with or wear!

"Are... are you sure you didn't touch my clothes?" Her voice came through the bathroom wall.

Was it a little meeker than before?

"Sorry babe, I don't know what you're talking about!" I called back. "Is something up?"

Silence. I grinned, again enjoying the image of what I knew must be happening through the door. I stared at the door, waiting... then it creaked open, just a few inches, and out poked Chelsea's head. One of the rare she was wihtout makeup- her eyes seemed softer and more rounded, her lips smaller and more dainty. She looked cuter, and less imposing. Definely not the slightly gothic, serious look she normally presented! Adding to this, her hair was still wet, clinging to her head, dripping down to the hardwood floors. A far cry from the normally perfect straightened brown locks she had. She also looked annoyed.

"Where is my towel?" she said suspiciously. "What did you do with it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" I said, feigning innocence.

I'm no actor and I doubt I was very convincing, but what could she do? She had no She glared at me for a long moment, as I tried to keep myself from grinning in amusement...