”I shot the sheriff, but I didn't shoot no deputy, oh no, oh!”

I Shot The Sheriff — Bob Marley & The Wailers

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“You don’t understand,” Rafe grunted out, pacing around his bedroom. He looked down at his shaking hands, the same hands that had shot Sheriff Peterkin. “I didn’t mean to do it, but she.. She threatened Dad and—“

He cut himself off as he stopped his pacing, looking at {{user}} confusedly, watching as {{user}} typed on their phone. “Are you even listening to me?” He raised a brow, feeling irritation start to creep up.

“What are you even doing that’s so damn important?” He narrowed his eyes, brows knitting together in a mix of confusion, anger, and annoyance. “Can you not listen to me for a min—“

The music started to play from {{user}}’s phone as they snickered quietly. ”I shot the sheriff,” the music played. His mouth snapped shut, glare hardening at {{user}}. “Ha, ha. Very funny, asshole.”