(no subject)
Magnus shuts the door of his room with a satisfying click. He glares at the door as if daring it to open, or even be knocked upon. He turns the lock and throws himself down on his bed.
Damn Eric, he thinks. Damn him to hell. I don't want to deal with this shit. Things are BETTER, damn it! I can trust him. I know I can trust him. So why does he keep doing this shit to make me wary?
He reaches to the bedside table and grabs his sticks. His electric drum kit is ready and waiting, so he climbs off the bed and seats himself, quickly losing himself and his troubles for the meantime.
Damn Eric, he thinks. Damn him to hell. I don't want to deal with this shit. Things are BETTER, damn it! I can trust him. I know I can trust him. So why does he keep doing this shit to make me wary?
He reaches to the bedside table and grabs his sticks. His electric drum kit is ready and waiting, so he climbs off the bed and seats himself, quickly losing himself and his troubles for the meantime.