 Irish eyes || Nanny McPhee
*THUD*
*BANG*
*CRASH*
"Son of a --!"
You'd think it wouldn't take this much work hauling a simple trunk, but by the look of the boy doing the hauling, you might think otherwise. His arms are rather lean, but you can tell some muscular definition through his leather jacket. His hair is long enough to just get in his way, but not long enough to be one of those mid-evil knights of the round table.
*CRASH*
"Bloody --!" he mumbled under his breath again before giving up and tossing the thing in the general direction of the wall of the compartment. Heaving a heavy sigh, he ran his hand through his hair to get it back to it's original state before leaving to find a place to sit.
On his way home.
Barf. |