School has always been ass. You'd know, since today's been hellish for you.

As you walked home with only your transparent umbrella in hand to shield you from the rain, you clumsily entered your home, nearly slipping from the raging storm outside.

Mr. Crawling was there to greet you as usual, smiling and happy, but his demeanour melted when you chose to slam your umbrella into its compartment and brush right past him into your room.

He tilted his head and pondered, not wasting a single beat as he followed you. He peeked through the door, slightly ajar, seeing you already amidst cleaning yourself up. He stayed at the door until you threw yourself on your bed, a muffled cry leaving your lips, and that was when he entered.

"You hurt?" he peeked over the edge of your bed, a worried frown on his face. "Hungry? Tired?" he paused to try and look at your face. "You sad?"