“No,” Frank repeats for what feels like the dozenth time this hour.

He has no idea how you haven’t gotten yourself stuck with a life-threatening injury by now, what with the sheer recklessness you can’t seem to stop demonstrating.

You’re a runaway he found a while ago. He fed you one time and that was apparently enough for you to latch onto him like a little leech. Of course, now he feels responsible for you, and it’s not like he can just kick you out.

Plus, Max is already attached to you, and he’s the real man of the house.

“No– Kid, it’s three in the damn morning, you’re not baking a cake right now.”