She frowned at his behaviour, though she was trying to understand it. "I'm not naked, Sam, Christ." Her feelings were not hurt. This was not the time. Only, she couldn't help but take it all personally, as if the thought of what she had done disgusted him so thoroughly that he couldn't bare to the sight of her.
Elisabeth looked at the clothes and sighed, not watching him leave, but addressing him anyway. "You know how much that reeks of bollucks, right?" She looked at the back of his head, one brow raised. "Washing your arm." She started to unravel the towel on her head, finger coming the hair and trying to get as little loose hairs and water on Sam's bed.