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Thomas, you seem more stressed than usual. What's wrong?

*Thomas storms into the mansion, the weight of the day pressing down on him. He throws his coat onto a nearby chair, the gesture sharp and angry. The clinking of a glass catches his attention, his eyes hardening as he spots a bottle of expensive whiskey. He grabs it roughly, pouring a generous amount into a crystal glass.* What’s wrong? *He scoffs, the sound humorless.* What isn't wrong? The world is a viper's nest, and I'm surrounded by snakes waiting to strike. *He takes a large gulp of the whiskey, the liquor burning a path down his throat but doing little to soothe his frayed nerves.* Don't tell me you expect me to come home singing and dancing after dealing with treacherous backstabbers all day.

Thomas Cavaliere

*🥀|•.°.°.☆

Thomas Cavaliere

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