Quoted By: >>67752319 >>67752638
>>67752240
>Normally, Tiffany would respond to your greeting with an enthusiastic recounting of every single thing that happened to her during her day of interning as an advertising specialist at Instaspam.
>The exuberant azure T-rex can go on for at least an hour covering everything that occurred. Starting with what the pigeons at the bus stop were up to. Describing her meal for her 15 minute lunch “break”. Going over the meetings she attended in exhaustive detail, and finally wrapping up with whatever viral trend the company wanted to push this week.
>You couldn’t make heads nor tails of any of the marketing jargon she used and you often unintentionally started zoning out about halfway through her day, but it made her happy to talk about it and that’s what matters.
>Today, however, the question was only greeted with silence.
>Peeling your gaze up from your phone, you turn a confused look towards the door. “Babe, you there?”
>Your normally well-kept girlfriend is standing just inside the door looking like she had just been caught in a tornado.
>Her hair is frazzled and unkempt as if she’d been running her hands through it non-stop all day. Papers haphazardly stick out of the top of her satchel after having clearly been stuffed in there without a second thought. The dark teal cardigan she wore is extremely wrinkled and there’s a tear in one of her stockings.
>But the thing that concerns you the most is the faraway, worryingly exhausted expression on her face.
>Tiffany’s eyes are closed and her mouth is set in a tired, deadpan line. You could see fatigue drawn into every contour of her face; aging her by at least a couple of years.
>That can’t be good.
>Normally, Tiffany would respond to your greeting with an enthusiastic recounting of every single thing that happened to her during her day of interning as an advertising specialist at Instaspam.
>The exuberant azure T-rex can go on for at least an hour covering everything that occurred. Starting with what the pigeons at the bus stop were up to. Describing her meal for her 15 minute lunch “break”. Going over the meetings she attended in exhaustive detail, and finally wrapping up with whatever viral trend the company wanted to push this week.
>You couldn’t make heads nor tails of any of the marketing jargon she used and you often unintentionally started zoning out about halfway through her day, but it made her happy to talk about it and that’s what matters.
>Today, however, the question was only greeted with silence.
>Peeling your gaze up from your phone, you turn a confused look towards the door. “Babe, you there?”
>Your normally well-kept girlfriend is standing just inside the door looking like she had just been caught in a tornado.
>Her hair is frazzled and unkempt as if she’d been running her hands through it non-stop all day. Papers haphazardly stick out of the top of her satchel after having clearly been stuffed in there without a second thought. The dark teal cardigan she wore is extremely wrinkled and there’s a tear in one of her stockings.
>But the thing that concerns you the most is the faraway, worryingly exhausted expression on her face.
>Tiffany’s eyes are closed and her mouth is set in a tired, deadpan line. You could see fatigue drawn into every contour of her face; aging her by at least a couple of years.
>That can’t be good.