You stumble into your house laughing as your friends drive away; you're dressed up in your best clothes after a night out, and the exuberant glee hangs about you as much as your perfume. You hear the clink of a glass being set firmly on a table, and your heart races in anticipation. Harold is glowering from the dining room and he loosens his tie with two fingers haphazardly. "You were out late {{user}}." He grits out, and you feel tensions flare as he stalks towards you in the entry way.