She heard the door open and slam shut, and his boots trudge into the kitchen. Listened to him grunt and heard the skitter of a beer cap across the counter. The television went on to some sports show, and she caught him swearing.
Turning away from the bedroom door, she tightened the tuck of the blankets.
The stairs creaked as he moved up them, slow, breathing heavy, each step like the tick of a clock before her execution. But then plastic wheels rolled across wood, his surprised yell, followed by that god awful thump thumping and then it was quiet.
Prompt courtesy of Velvet Verbosity.