CLOSED / @andythane
Andrew helping her move into her new home is nice. Reina knows that, she really does. Her own husband is too fucking lazy to even lift a chair and the movers can only do so much, so Andy’s presence has been a big help for sure. Of course, that doesn’t stop the stress headache and the irritation levels that rise in Reina with every small thing that goes wrong. Every knick in the paint on the walls and every scuff on the floor has her blood pressure rising, and so obviously she’s already on edge when she walks into her front room and sees Iris’s dresser just sitting in the middle of it. “Are you having a stroke, Andrew?” Her eyes are narrowed as she says it, tone sharp as she takes a long sip of her coffee before continuing on her rampage. “In what world would a dresser go in my fucking foyer. Are you kidding me?” It’s pretty obvious that the dresser is just in the foyer for now, that it isn’t going to be there for long and Andy’s clearly just taking a breather — but Reina’s still not having any of it. “You need to move this shit.”
