Send me a ❀ and I will use a random quote generator and make you a starter based on the quote I get.
“It ain’t so much the things we don’t know that get us in trouble. It’s the things we know that ain’t so.” — Artemus Ward aka Charles Farrar Brown
Ryan walked into the office that morning tired and stressed. He knew he’d have a lot of work to get done today, and he barely got any sleep from a small cough he had acquired. He really wasn’t in the mood for any joking.
His chair was on the opposite side of the room for some reason, and he rolled his eyes, suspecting Gavin. He didn’t expect anything to happen when he grabbed his chair, didn’t know he had pulled rope attached to it that would trigger a hastily made trap that sent a gallon of water gushing onto his head.
When it happened, Geoff erupted into laughter. Ryan sighed, looking down at his chair and his other hand, where his laptop had been in his hand. He sucked in a sharp breath. It was soaked. He wanted to scream, but he took a moment. Then he whirled around, facing Gavin. “Gavin,” he said, deadly calm.
As Gavin calmed down, he finally noticed that something was off; that Ryan wasn’t amused with the prank. When his laughter finally died away, replaced with the thick silence, a chill crawled up his spine. This wasn’t even disgruntled-at-being-pranked-unamused, this was Gavin-you-seriously-fucked-up-this-time-upset.
And that latter wasn’t what he wanted at all.
Ryan held up the laptop, and Gavin saw the damage that he’d caused. This wasn’t like breaking the CD tray on the xbox, or destroying his own desk and chair, and as destructive as the lad might be, he never meant to do that so someone else’s personal objects.
“I—.” His voice squeaked, and failed. The glare Ryan shot at him was enough to make him flinch, as if the older man had actually reached out and slapped him across the face. "I’m sorry, Ryan.“
The amount of anger Ryan was retaining was enough to stop a steam engine in his tracks. He let out a breath before walking slowly towards Gavin, desperately trying not to blow up at the lad. When he was about a foot away, he stopped. "This–” he said, holding up his laptop, “–is my home computer. It has over two hundred and fifty gigs of storage and core processor faster than most Intel designs. Do you know what that means?” He bent forward, staring right into Gavin’s eyes. “It means you better have an extra fifteen thousand dollars lying around somewhere.” He knew he was being cruel, but godamn he was beyond mad. He was furious.