Chaos Is My Crown
He stood in the middle of the living room, one hand on his waist, the other rubbing his forehead like he was trying to calm himself down before things escalated.
Dada didn’t answer immediately.
He walked past both of us like nothing just happened, calm as always, and dropped himself on the couch like he had all the time in the world, which honestly just made Papa more annoyed.
“That Grey boy is playing a game I don’t understand,” Dada finally said, leaning back comfortably, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest. “And it’s quite obvious now that our daughter is a puppet in his game.”
I didn’t react but I like that one of my father is now think with his head.
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