Today... really wasn't his day. [break][break]

At least that was what Damiano told himself. Truth be told, yesterday hadn't been his day either or the day before that. In fact, it'd probably be easier to just summarize and state that this simply wasn't his week. [break][break]

The blonde's face contorted into a wince as he picked up his coffee from the counter, a spasm of pain jolting down his side on lifting his arm. A commemoration prize, of sorts, for picking a fight with the wrong person only the night before; a lesson, one of many, that he wouldn't learn from. The constant dull ache where the elbow of that jackass had connected with his side was... irritating. Under even the light shirt he wore, Damiano could feel his skin thrumming hotly where mottled bruising had bloomed deeply at every brush of the fabric.[break][break]

He was, as you could guess, in a foul mood.[break][break]

All he wanted was a coffee, black and bitter to match his mood, to help perk himself up a bit. It'd been all he'd wanted.[break][break]

Yet apparently he was going to be denied even that.[break][break]

His reflexes sluggish, hampered by how stiff and tender he felt, the fire witch had no chance to save his drink when a small girl came careering into him. Or, even, his own balance. Despite being so small, she'd barrelled into the man with enough force to send a far more uncomfortable pang jarring up his side. Rather than react, he flinched over himself. Rather than catch himself, he staggered and caught himself on a table.[break][break]

"F-Fuck!" He gritted out through his teeth, the expletive partially concealed by the sound of his drink falling to the tiles with a messy splatter, the dark liquid splashing everywhere, decorating the shoes of all those unfortunate enough to be too close with speckles and drips. In the heat of the moment, pain still flashing, fanning his temper, Damiano lifted his head and glared at the culprit. And the man the culprit was with. Father, brother, uncle, friend, whatever; it didn't matter. [break][break]

"Keep your animals on a fuckin' leash," he snarled impulsively at the other male before he could curb his tongue, although, no sooner had the words left his lips, he instantly regretted them. She's only five, she's a little clumsy, the guy had said. God. He was pissed at... a five year old? How mature. How grown up. Damiano's tawny gaze visited the little girl again and saw how she, too, was a little... startled as it was. "O-Or... keep an eye on her, at least. Made me drop my drink, man."

@tag · small notes