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[righthemisphere]

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[righthemisphere]

It's rage, then. He should walk away. He really, really should. And he does.

But Chuck's words sling like arrows into his back and he sees red and he Could fuCKING KILL HIM!

Frothing with anger, Raleigh looks around and grabs the heavy, oak side table by the front door. He gives a feral roar and rips it away from the wall- sending it's contents smashing over the floor- before slamming open Chuck's door and stalking out into the night

[suicidemission]

Jesus, Raleigh.

Chuck watches Raleigh smash his table, the little vase and careful knick knacks smashing to the floor. The place is basically a replica of his grandparents - it could be argued Raleigh just smashed heirlooms, but Chuck's to pissed to even focus on that.

"WOW, dramatic much?! Pissed cause I'm calling you out? Fine- get out, get out of my house, you fucking liar-"

He'll stand in the doorway, face red and ugly, furious, devastated. He hates this place. He hates this place and it's false hopes and dreams, for giving him a few moments of beauty before revealing its ugly truths.

"Coward," he screams into the night at Raleigh's receeding back. "Coward! I hate you, I hate you--"