Chase was stuffing his shirts into the drawer, rolling his eyes as he did, still on his tirade that he'd started fifteen minutes earlier. "...and it's not that I don't mind all these occasions," he said, gaze flicking up at the Doctor from over the bed while he hung up his ties, tossing some weird branch over to the bed, wondering when Atalanta had brought kindling in. "But I am sick and tired of a party every week to go to. I'm working twice as much as before, I'm tired, and now I have to be this social butterfly?"
He scoffed, turning around to start on his trousers. "Not that I don't love my friends, but I swear...is a little space between events so much to ask?"
( Meow meow meow meow )