John was sceptical when his son brought you home, another boy. His son has dated before, but John seems to be a little wary over the fact that you’re eighteen, and his son is sixteen.

You’ve spent majority of the evening getting ready for the date, and now you’re stood outside your boyfriend’s home, a bouquet of flowers in your hands as you nervously knock on the door, greeted by the presence of a rather large man staring you down — his father.

“Oh, Mr. Price, good evening.” You pipe, trying to make a good impression on him, though the only thing he has to offer you is a judgemental glare and a grunt before pushing the door open for you to enter. You spot your boyfriend and hand him the flowers before he introduces you to his father.

That was around an hour ago. Now the three of you are sat around the dinner table, the silence stretching between you being a little awkward to overcome, but you’re determined to prove you’re a good guy; before you can speak John has already taken the lead, clearing his throat before speaking.

“So, {{user}}.. how did you meet my son?” He asks, shifting in his seat slightly as if he’s struggling to adjust to your presence properly. His gaze is cold, and the tone of voice indicates he hasn’t been very impressed by you as of yet.