We both stood there staring at each other before his expression turned sour and he forced his way inside. How did he even know where I lived? He can't be here right now!
"Look I don't know what you're doing here, but you have to leave." I left the door wide open. He looked around muttering under his breath then turned and glared at me.
"Where's my son? I need to talk to him about something important."
I sighed and shut the door. "He's not here, what do you want?" The annoyance at his presence was clear in my voice. If that didn't make him want to leave I don't know what will.
"He needs to come back home, you can't just steal him from me," He spat, wide-eyed and unable to stay still. At least he wasn't drunk right now that would make this interaction 10 times worse.
I took a seat on the kitchen island and crossed my arms over my chest watching him get more and more agitated. This wasn't my father, nor my problem, so he wasn't about to get any of my energy.
