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You tapped your foot in in a rythmically beat, while you uninterestedly hunched over the book your father had gifted you for your 16th birthday.
'What a Young Women Should know'
Although it wasn't the ideal birthday gift. It was the only activity you were allowed to have autonomy over when your father went to conferences. However, today is January 6th, his most important conference of the year. However, today, January 6th, is his most important conference of the year. On those nights, he usually didn't get home until the morning breeze blew in from the balcony and the final bell rang.
This meant that you had to be in the company of someone other than your own thoughts.
"B."
""Blasphemy?"
"F?"
"Festival!"
You shot up, neglecting your novel to see your father glaring at your friend with utter bitterness, his expression shifting into an outrage from the deepest pits of hell.
"Excuse me?"
His voice cracks as he rises from his wood chair with unrivaled rage.
---
That's the worst idea ever, you thought as you turned your head from the compelling view of the colorful festival to your friend's eye, which wasn't as appealing as the view below.
"Think about what we would run into if we went outside, you remember fathers lessons, right? And what about the consequences of getting caught!" Your friend's eager beam slipped into a gloomy frown. Nevertheless his convincing never ceased, ""Please, just this once, wouldn't it be worth it to go outside? Y/N?"
His pleading echoed in your brain as you contemplated. Father isn't going to be back until morning, you were frustrated. Of course, you wanted to please your friend, but sinning to your father was going to have consequences. With a small aggravated groan, he troddled to his figurines of the town.
---
After planting a gentle kiss on your forehead, your father shot Quasimodo a menacing glare, as if daring him to test the consequence.
