His routine is well-measured and has been long before his most recent stint on the inside. Habits that the government's war and then his own instilled in him long ago. Without rushing, it all takes less than five minutes and then he's padding to the kitchen to get them each a bottle of water before joining her in the bedroom. Despite what they've just done, seeing her in comfy PJs is somehow endlessly appealing. Frank reluctantly turns from the view to go into the drawer she set up for him some time ago and retrieve some sweatpants. He lets his wet towel fall to the floor and pulls them on before joining her in the bed, leaning over her to put her water on her table before leaning back into his pillow to take a swig from his. It feels so nice to be free - to get to do whatever he wants to do - that he doesn't even think about Maria or how vehemently he's avoided any type of intimacy with a woman since her death.