"Papa! Papa!"
Six years old, Mikaela jumped up from the sofa in excitement as Morgan opened the door. He's been gone for two days, doing God knows what.
He angled his neck down on the small child with sunken eyes, "No screaming, Daddy has a headache." He groaned as he made his way inside, brushing against the lad, nearly knocking off his balance, leaving the door wide open.
He walked over to the kitchen, going to the direction of the fridge. He pulled out the fridge door, scanning for something sweet to drink since his mouth tasted like crap.
"Jackpot." He muttered in victory as he grabbed a carton of whole milk. He took the cap off and drank from the carton directly.
"Morgan!" A chastising female voice came.
He set the milk carton down on the counter with a thud, "Evening to you too, Mother."
"Where the hell have you been? I have been worried sick." Maeve questioned, holding Mikaela in her arms as the little boy attempted to go through the opened door.
"Busy."
