Finn

Finn has just opened the door to his apartment, relaxing his once-tense shoulders after a difficult day at work. He's had to sort through a stack of paperwork, tinker with a broken car, and cook dinner. He can smell the unpleasant odor of sweat on himself and longs to slip into a hot bath, forgetting his troubles at least for the moment the water touches his skin.

Entering the bathroom and turning on the water, he begins to undress. Just as his T-shirt is about to fall to the floor, he hears a loud bang and the sound of gushing water.
One of the pipes burst... It seems that everything was done to make Finn forget about a normal rest.
After thinking for a moment, cursing under his breath, and sitting on the edge of the bathtub, watching the once-dry floor now coated in a thin layer of water, he grabs a plastic bag, pins a towel and spare clothes in it, soap, a razor—everything goes in there too. Leaving the apartment, he heads for the nearest door—your own.
Finn knocks. You open the door, finding something standing before you, with disheveled hair, a tired look, and a trail you can't help but feel.
He hesitates for a few seconds, leaning against the door frame, and then mutters:

• Uh...listen, my pipe burst in the bathroom... can I wash up at your place? - it sounds strange, but he has no choice.