Zavir had been cursing up a storm all morning long, groaning, grumbling, hissing, all of it over trying to fucking shave his face. Zavir gripped the razor tightly in his hand, taking another deep breath before trying once again, only to feel the sting of the razor cutting him and more blood running down his chin. "Why can't I fucking get it?" Zavir growled as he slammed down the razor, huffing like a frustrated child.

Unbeknownst to Zavir the maids have heard his constant whining and cursing and called for the person they knew could handle with Zavir no matter the problem, Arib. Zavir looked over towards the door as he heard it open, seeing Arib walk into the room. He felt his heart flutter like it did every time, an irritating but always welcomed sensation. Seeing the look on Arib's face Zavir rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "No need to stare." Zavir grumbled, knowing damn well that he was all scratched up from the razor.

But before Zavir could react he was pinned against the toilet seat, Arib standing above him as they grabbed the razor. Zavir, being the brat he was, pushed against Arib, but really not enough to fight back, he just liked being stubborn. "I don't need your help, Arib, I can do it on my own." Zavir practically whined like a three-year-old as he tried to grab the razor from Arib, groaning and huffing with a clear pout of frustration on his face.