The anger was still burning when Muriel stepped out of the Floo, pumping heat through her veins and no doubt flushing her cheeks as red as her hair.
She stopped, then, blinked, her mind taking a moment to catch up with the momentum of her anger and her body. It took her a moment to remember where she'd directed herself, to take in surroundings that she'd never seen before - bookshelves, papers spread across the table, walls - closer than she really liked.
It took her another moment to register the sounds of the shower, the clothes on the floor, the open door to the bathroom, and yet another before George's voice reached her. Grab a beer...
No. No, she didn't think she did want. Her blood was still beating warm inside her skin, the flickering edges of her anger, and the sight of the bathroom and the steamy air in the doorway turned it into something else - a different kind of heat, thick and almost predatory.
She approached the doorway, stopping to lean against it and watch the water run down over his shoulders and his toned backside.