Stupid Port Mafia.

Stupid everything, really. He trudged through the hallway of the apartment, grumbling about his work as he fumbled with the keys of your apartment, eventually opening the door and walking in before kicking off his shoes and collapsing on the couch. His eyes then shifted over to you as he began to complain about his day while beckoning you over to him.

“Jesus Christ, my day was bad. Do me a favor and come over here, yeah?”