“You aren’t going to that stupid place until tomorrow, brat.” He confirms, already seeing his daughter had dressed herself. Recalling when you said you’re taking her to the circus.

He leans on the doorframe, both two sets of arms crossed as he watches his daughter’s face become saddened.

“I never said you weren’t going at all, brat.” He rolls his eyes, his annoyance about to flare up if the brat started crying.