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Thoroughly distracted with himself, the knock on the bathroom door startled him, letting out a noise of surprise as he pulled the towel for his hair across his front incase she walked in. Amelia didn't though, opening the door just enough to snake her arm through with a shirt between her fingers. Glancing critically at the pink fabric she was offering to him, he wasn't able to stop the groan from leaving. It wasn't like he had much of a choice in the matter however, and he knew his own clothes could use a wash dearly. Reaching out he took the fabric into his own hands and held it out to himself, worried even the largest shirt she owned would cling tightly to his skin. "Ah," he was able to get out, still examining the pink shirt, dubious about it fitting. "Thanks, that's not a problem. I appreciate you finding a shirt for me anyway. I'll be out in a minute."

Watching her disappear from the doorway, Virgil reached out and shut the door quietly behind her. Figuring he was as dried off as he was going to get, he slipped back into his pants and went about testing the shirt. It fit, for the most part anyway, tight against the back of shoulders but not quite as tightly as he'd originally presumed. The swell of his lower belly was a little more obvious than the clothes he'd been wearing but not too noticeably. A bit more fiddling with his attire, Virgil finally exited the bathroom and returned out the way he came.

The sight of Amelia back on the couch in her pajamas was a good one, bringing a light smile to his face as he approaches. Despite their first impression he found himself relaxed and comfortable in her presence now. "Thanks for that," he comments, hand brushing through his damp hair. "I feel a lot better." Motioning towards the pizza box and glasses of water, Virgil glanced towards the radiant woman. "You want some help cleaning up?"