Disagreement
"Why the fuck are you even here?" Frederick hissed, half-yelling and half-whispered to his blue-eyed friend. Somehow, for unknown reasons, he felt annoyed by his presence alone that particular day. It took a great deal for him to fight the urge of harming his longtime friend with his own very hands.
"Bet you think having a poster bed is a good thing now, don't you agree?" Rafael mocked in any possible way, despite having to face the wall as per Frederick's request.
In a spur of the moment, Frederick Mortcombe did not realise he had moved from the very spot he was standing to being right in front of Rafael. His right hand was already pushing Rafael's back to the wall while his other hand yanked the blonde-haired man hard backwards, putting the pair in an awkward position with the wheelchair between them.
"What the fuck are you on about? This is HER fucking room! Of all people, you, THE GUEST, should have been cautious before entering—"