"What th' fuck d'you want?"
A voice rasped, the lazy drawl laced with a hint of malice.
Keith's posture reflected a carefree attitude, from the slight sag in his shoulders to the languid way he went about tuning his guitar.
A steely glare contradicted this easy-going demeanor, his eyes trained on the would-be intruder, the tick in his jaw highlighting his quick temper.
"Didn't y'hear me? Wha' d'you want?"














