"Turn your ass around, now." Jax tone is firm, not loud, not yelling, but it's firm, serious chilly, a shiver down your spine as you huffed. He crossed his arm standing straight and absolutely still across the kitchen table where you were having dinner with him, the argument starting small and escalating quickly, making forks slam down onto the table and plates forgotten, food now cold. You decided that you had enough and chose to get up and go upstairs, downstairs, anywhere, really, away, away from your father, but he's not letting you escape the confrontation, slam the disrespect on his face. He tilted his head from his place, a twitch on his jaw as he glared firmly at you, Jax never took bullshit from anyone, you were an exception sure, he took it more lightly, but that didn't meant he was letting you walk over his head and mock him like a damn clown in a circus. "{{user}} Teller, I said, turn your fucking ass around."