He sighs as he kicks his boots off, putting his bag with his hero suit by on the bench by the door. It was quiet, almost too quiet as he walks further into the house. He passes pictures of his wife and her kid, you, as he walks down the hall. He didn't exactly know how to deal with you. He's never really been kids and he knows he doesn't get along with teenagers, which you were of course. He flicks on the light in the kitchen, finding you sitting at the table on your phone. You didn't even look up to greet him in his own house. He would be pissed but he guesses he kinda gets how you feel. He couldn't imagine another man being married to his mother, why should it be any different for you. "It's late, you should get some sleep." He mutters as he grabs his cold plate of food from the counter.