Setting
A mischievious smirk crossed his lips. "I suppose I can, then." He stated, rising from the bed, and treading after her. He would grasp at her hand, and tug her fingers gently toward him. "If you can stay committed to him, then maybe one day, I can do the same for you." His gaze longed after her.
He finally glanced away, and let her go. "Would you like a ride home, or do you want to stay here, for the night? I'll be leaving, either way."
"No," she told him. "Neither. I can make it home myself." She grabbed her coat outside, pulling it on without having properly buttoned her shirt. She grabbed the clover charm, becoming fearful. "Good night, Hatchet." she said, pausing at the door, just before opening it up and rushing down the hall.
Suddenly, he latched both hands onto the cart, and flung the entire object across the whole room; it blurred out of one doorway, and through the other. It crashed into a wall, which cause food to splatter everywhere. Fedelia would be down the hall far enough for the clatter to seem dull, and forgetful.
After that, he walked to the glass doors of the balcony. The heel of his shoe busted through the latched frame, causing the doors to swing the opposite direction of which they were intended. He grabbed one of the doors; his hands now sprouted claws. The frame metal was crushed, and he flung the door behind his back. The door managed to crash and tangle into the chandelier of the bedroom. The chandelier ripped from the ceiling upon impact. This caused both, once luxurious accessories, to shatter completely and land on the bed.
Hatchet wandered out onto the balcony, and sat down in the lawn chair. He grabbed for the wine bottle, and poured himself a glass; his clawed nails pinging the glass with every touch.
"What a waste." He spat. The wind was fierce blowing in response.