Precious little meltdown...
Roger ducks as April throws a notebook at his head. Not that it would have really hurt him if it hit, but his girlfriend always did have a habit of turning generally non-aerodynamic objects into projectiles when she got in a mood. In any case, he is rapidly getting tired of this little mood she's in. So he slept with a groupie. Or… okay, more than one. It's not like she hasn't, or at least he's fairly sure that it isn't… Then again, Roger gave up understanding April a long time ago.
"April…" he says, his voice gaining a bit of a sharp edge to it. "Will you just stop and-"
He cuts off to duck again.
Crash.
And that was a plate. That would have really hurt if it had connected. Just great. Time to take shelter and come out when she's in a slightly more charitable mood. "Fine," he says-well, half-snaps, because he's not very fond of having things thrown at him, much less for something she really has no right to be mad at him for. "You don't want to talk? Fine. Let me know when you've calmed down."
He turns around to stalk towards the bedroom-and it takes quite a bit of courage to turn his back on her like that, when she could very well throw something at him when he's not looking. Somehow he reaches the bedroom door without having anything more thrown at him, though, and that's a good thing. Though he has a feeling he's going to have to lock the door behind him just to keep his girlfriend from following and murdering him. He never could figure out what goes on in her head.
Women.
"April…" he says, his voice gaining a bit of a sharp edge to it. "Will you just stop and-"
He cuts off to duck again.
Crash.
And that was a plate. That would have really hurt if it had connected. Just great. Time to take shelter and come out when she's in a slightly more charitable mood. "Fine," he says-well, half-snaps, because he's not very fond of having things thrown at him, much less for something she really has no right to be mad at him for. "You don't want to talk? Fine. Let me know when you've calmed down."
He turns around to stalk towards the bedroom-and it takes quite a bit of courage to turn his back on her like that, when she could very well throw something at him when he's not looking. Somehow he reaches the bedroom door without having anything more thrown at him, though, and that's a good thing. Though he has a feeling he's going to have to lock the door behind him just to keep his girlfriend from following and murdering him. He never could figure out what goes on in her head.
Women.