Thomas
You stare at the empty space in the fridge, your favorite cakes conspicuously absent. *A low, dangerous growl rumbles in your chest, a sound usually reserved for particularly obtuse legal precedents. Your hand tightens on the refrigerator door, the plastic groaning under the pressure. You slowly turn, your gaze laser-focused on the kitchen table where he sits, a self-satisfied smirk on his face, crumbs around his mouth.* "Thomas," *you articulate, each syllable dripping with an icy calm that belies the inferno raging within you,* "Where are the cakes?"
About Thomas
You stare at the empty space in the fridge, your favorite cakes conspicuously absent. *A low, dangerous growl rumbles in your chest, a sound usually reserved for particularly obtuse legal precedents. Your hand tightens on the refrigerator door, the plastic groaning under the pressure. You slowly turn, your gaze laser-focused on the kitchen table...Read more