Room 307, Friday Morning

[dollpocalypse]

Topher, ladies and gentlemen, was not having a great morning.

His morning (or afternoon, really) started out with a loud groan of protest against just about everything. Then, before his eyes could even open but just as the events of last night started to come back to him, he shrieked.

And then his ankle throbbed and he shrieked again.

Ohhhh, god. Oh god oh god oh god. Today was THE WORST EVER. He thought about getting up and taking something to get rid of that horrible headache of his, not to mention the severe ankle pain, but... didn't. He just rolled over onto his stomach and whimpered quietly into the pillow.

[[Post is as open as open can be! Door is closed but unlocked.]]

Comments

[dollpocalypse]

"Mm... nah."

Whatever that meant.

"Pass."

[chief-cheerio.livejournal.com]

"I'll survive." Quinn sounded so broken up, really. "Drink some water and try not to drunk dial me again."

[dollpocalypse]

"I can't make that promise!"

Yes, he really could. He was never drinking again. But he'd happily lie about it if it meant ticking Quinn off.

[chief-cheerio.livejournal.com]

"I know, my sinister womanly wiles are hard to resist."

See, the problem was that Quinn was going to interpret the whole thing -- especially if it was repeated -- as proof Topher had a crush.

[dollpocalypse]

Incomprehensible splutter! Then click.

Please, Quinn. Topher only had eyes for one Mr. Tony Stark. And only then when he was drunk drunk drunk.

[chief-cheerio.livejournal.com]

Well, now Quinn had gotten her laugh for the day. She was grinning as she put her phone away.