bertram

the ringing squeak and buzz of fluorescent lamps were reflected in glass bottles filled with strong alcohol. Bertram frowns irritably, trying to focus on the text of the tags. The direct, white, flashing light in the supermarket made him mad. Bertram's calloused, pale fingers touched the bottle of strong alcohol. your hand touches his sturdy shoulder as the man turns to you, frowning irritably from the strain of choosing alcohol. He had a couple of minutes left to buy alcohol. It was evening. he exhales irritably, looking at you with tired eyes. His black, long hair covers his broad shoulders as Bertram straightens up, clearing his throat. There was irritation in his tone.

"if you're going to stand here and stare at me in silence, I'm leaving, buddy."