poison pen letter.

          ‘ yeah --- i've just got a bit of an --- upset stomach. ’

      ‘ why the heck do you expect me to make you breakfast ? ’

      ‘ i wish i can just----- ’ he pauses. he's not sure what he wants to do. frankly, he's been stuck lately. a black cloud as metaphorically been hanging over him, and he's just been very down. is it obvious ? it's probably obvious. a sigh escapes rex's lips as he looks at them. ‘ i dunno, dear. ’

· · · ‘ hey, turn on some rancid !! ’ rex yells from across the room, sitting back on the couch as he eyes the other person before shifting towards the record player. he loves rancid. the clawing guitar and ska-tempo makes him ------ calm. most people would be energized, but he's quite the opposite. after a few moments of continued silence, he lets out a sigh before walking towards the record player. ‘ ---do i have to EVERYTHING around here !? ’ he says, pulling out his copy of ...honor is all we know.