Exclamation comes as a jumpy, little mutter under his breath, one leg still raised right after kicking in the stall’s door. It wasn’t locked (or so he thought... please, god, let it have been unlocked, because how else is he gonna explain himself?) nor did he think he saw a pair of feet in the gap. But, well, maybe he wasn’t paying too much attention.
After all, it was kind of hard to do that when he was lugging around a lifeless body (if you think it’s a corpse then you’d be right that’s on you.) tossed over one shoulder.
He doesn’t even bother to say anything, eyes quickly flicking down (well, at least, he didn’t catch her with her pants down. that’d be awful for both parties.) before looking back up. Shifting a bit on his feet, he adjusted the distributed weight from his little, uh... companion? Yeah, let’s go with “companion”.
There’s a small “hup!” huffed out as he does, leg finally lowering to plant its foot back down and his other arm coming up to balance out the weight slightly better. He didn’t look all too happy to be there to begin with -- but neither did she -- and, now, he’s just trying to think of what to say.
Christoph doesn’t necessarily vocalize it, but there’s something about him that was simply begging her to not ask why he’s barged into the women’s public restroom at... uh, what time was it again-- oh, yeah. It was four in the morning.
“... Can ya... uhh...” he started, somewhat awkwardly while waving around his free hand (it’s clumsy and horrible to follow, because he’s trying to emote while carrying literal dead weight.) in little gestures, “...get out? I have a job t’do.”