His insides burned with rage, so much so that he felt like going into the room, dragging her out and kicking her out of the house. With the thought in his head, he matched up the stairs, and reached the door, but the moment he opens the door and his eyes fell on her figure calmly asleep, it all went away.
Angrily, he stomps to his mini-bar, dumping the phone on the counter.
He grabs a bottle of whiskey, and a glass. Opens the freezer and pulls out the slate of little ice blocks, angrily dumping the lot on the counter. "Damn it White!" he yelled, and the phone rang again.
And now he wondered... "I'm perfect... What more does she want? I thought I've made myself the perfect man, but it seems I'm still lacking something!" he hissed.
His fingers ran through his dark hair as he paced back and forth. The whiskey didn't even seem enticing anymore.
Now his head was filled with thoughts of what exactly he was lacking and why she needed another man??
