"Who went to buy milk and just returned a week ago." Azrael counter responded, giving a glare at him.
August saw the bickering, he didn't know what to do. Should he say something? Well, the conversation looks like family issues and he was an outsider in it. Should he just leave? That would seem rude. He just stood there, not knowing what else to do. Her family seems dysfunctional. No wonder Azrael was like that.
"Eh, is this how you talk to your father? Let me tell you this is not ideal, ok? If others know that Azrael was rude and mannerless, they will frown on you." Edgar debated back, pointing his finger at him.
Azrael scoffed hearing his threat, and crossed her arm, sparing a cold glare at him, "You want to tell others, go on. Do you want me to put up a conference for you?"
August, silently watched from afar, knows that glare. She was not joking. The air was chilly. It was arctic in his apartment itself. She was in a full-killing mood.
