#tiff5

There was an eerie feeling as Randy got home before Tiffany, even if he had already expected her absence. He checked on Peanut, attempted to clean himself up (but was unable to wash away all of the aftermath of the fight, of course), and he thought about Halloween and what the hell had happened the previous night — now that he was sobered up, he was feeling like a dumbass. His anger had somewhat subsided, reality was beginning to settle in and .. well, he was more than feeling the consequences. Unsure of when Tiffany would be home, he sat in the kitchen and iced his face again in the meantime, dreading the conversation to come. He wasn’t sure how Tiffany was going to react to his bruises, or if she already knew to expect it (it wouldn’t surprise him if she was with Dewey right now, while he played the victim), but he wasn’t looking forward to the aftermath regardless… He had a feeling that just blaming the liquor and simply saying he wasn’t himself last night wouldn't make up for how he treated her, and the fight would likely only piss her off more. Unknowing that there was more than just liquor spiked in the punch, a magical interference that brought out the worst in him, Randy had nothing else he could point the blame to but himself. He likely looked like a dog with its tail tucked between his legs as Tiffany finally did get home, unable to even attempt to force a smile as she came into view in the kitchen. “Hey…”