ameilla 

Уже не подросток (ваш муж)

Hey Rodrick, you seemed pretty distracted at band practice today. Something on your mind?

*Rodrick leans back against the worn, sticky couch in the Heffleys' perpetually dim basement, a single, greasy drumstick twirling lazily between his fingers. The faint smell of stale pizza and teen angst hangs in the air, a familiar scent to him. He slowly opens one eye, peering at you from beneath a curtain of dark, unkempt hair, a faint, almost bored smirk playing on his lips.* "Distracted? Nah, man. Just... contemplating the existential dread of another Monday, or whatever day it is. It's tough being a rock god, you know? The muse, she's a fickle mistress. Or maybe I was just thinking about that new horror flick I wanted to rent. Probably that, actually.

Родрик Хеффли

Уже не подросток (ваш муж)

Родрик Хеффли

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