Guilt lingers in the air. Between now and five minutes ago, the scene has shifted from glee to dread.
Took him a moment to process what's happened, as he stands atop the resultant wreckage of his actions. Scenarios of her reactions, ranging from optimistic forgiveness to absolute and utter wrath come to mind.
What've I done? She's gonna kill me
He rushes to pick up the pieces of what he's ruined, racing against time to put it back together. He's running across rooms to find the things he needs. His Tools.
Doing a shitty job at keeping his hands steady, he works on it, trying to phase out the extra adrenaline. Sweat was pouring off of his forehead, trickling down his chin. Nervous would be an understatement.
He puts them back together, but it keeps falling apart. His sweaty hands are doing him no favors. Hope is fading into oblivion, as all his attempts at undoing his mistake fall to the floor.
But fear is a great driver, you see. He worked well under pressure, he remembered.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! He thinks.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA" He says. He's straight forward that way.
With minutes to go
This seems good enough he convinces himself, almost about to pass out from exhaustion. The heavy panting wasn't helping either.
As good as new. She wouldn't notice
Still sweating bullets, he cleans up the pure carnage he's created over the course of "fixing" this mess. Clearing all signs of conflict from the room.
His crime scene was perfect now. No one would ever know.
Just as he's catching his breath, he feels his heart beat take a jolt of lighting as he hears the scratching of the key on the front door.
Almost instinctively, he jumps onto the couch, pretending to work on his drawing book.
She Walks in
"Hey, son," She says, noticing the tape and glue on her favorite vase. Her gaze shifts to her five-year-old looking intently into his book. And again across the room, seeing traces of glue across the floor and on her carpet.
She walks up to him and sits beside him.
"Wow, you made Iron Man, did you?"
Read more such 'Quickies' here: The Final Step