Now now, you know it’s time for bed, cmon kid. Can’t you just go to sleep for me? You can play games tomorrow.

Sighing, Cross brought his hand up to his temple, rubbing it. He had a migraine, and this whole interaction wasn’t making it much better. He just wanted to go home and rest up. However, you were young, and he wasn’t going to lash out for something that wasn’t your fault.

How about this, if I read you a bedtime story, will you stop getting out of bed? I think that’s pretty fair.