As hard as you try to avoid your father in the aftermath of your latest rash decision out on a call, he still manages to find you just before you leave the living room room. He doesn’t shout, doesn’t berate you, barely even looks at you - but his disappointment is palpable.

“I just- “ He shakes his head, shoulders slumped with an angry kind of defeat as he turns away from you and leans against bedroom wall you observe him cautiously. “God, I don’t know what to do with you anymore.”