barking up the wrong tree.
@rkmomo !!
you have got to be kidding me.
it feels like he’s being taunted. the whole experience is like one of those headaches that don’t go away for hours. it’s existence is small, but to won, it’s perseverance is like a power drill to his patience. soft footsteps follow close behind his heavy footfalls as he silently curses himself for leaving his skateboard at home. (though he supposes with his luck, it’d have made no difference. the fucking thing would’ve just ran along behind him.)
what feels like the hundredth meow reaches his ears and he groans, running tense fingers through slightly greasy hair. he’s ready to start pulling out chunks if the four-legged nuisance doesn’t lose interest in him soon. after all, he has no idea how to scare off a cat beyond waving his arms and whining for it to leave. he hates cats; why would he know anything about them? he hopes it doesn’t follow him all the way back to the house— oh god. as if being there isn’t shitty enough already... fucking hell.