Okay, this is a quick one-shot I wrote as part of a weekly vocab assignment. It was difficult for me to write a story off of 5 random words, so this one-shot is kinda sucky. But I tried my best and I promised to post each assignment so without further ado...

...here's a really-short-vocabulary-based-one-shot!

Oh! And see if you can tell what the 5 vocab words are (it's pretty obvious).

Alfred crouched low at the bottom of the stairs. He could hear the 10 p.m. news playing on the T.V. in the living room.

Good. That means Dad is watching his boring British news channel. Which means I…

The young teen slowly got up and silently tiptoed to the front door, being sure to step over the one creaky floorboard. Once he was close enough he reached out and grabbed the doorknob.

...am outta here!

"Alfred!"

Dammit, Alfred swore to himself. Caught.

The dirty blonde teen turned to see his father sitting at the dining room table. The older man's green eyes were dulled by fatigue, but his bushy eyebrows were furrowed in a scowl as he tapped his fingers against the polished wood.

"Would you mind apprising me as to where you were sneaking off to?"

"Oh, hey Dad!" Alfred greeted cheerfully. "I didn't see ya there. I thought you were watching the news, but I guess you weren't." Alfred scratched the back of his head sheepishly and met his father's glare with a wide grin.

"Don't avoid the question, Alfred. Where were you running off to?"

Alfred widened his blue eyes innocently. "What makes you think I was running off?" he asked. When his father's angry stare still didn't budge, Alfred decided to drop the act. "There's no getting past you, is there?"

Arthur chuckled and leaned back in his chair. "I'm a small time judge who majored in jurisprudence. I'm pretty good at knowing when someone is guilty."

Alfred sighed and dragged his feet to the dining room. If he was about to be scolded, he might as well sit.

"So what was the impetus of your departure?" the older man inquired.

"Huh?"

Arthur sighed. "Why did you try to leave?" he reiterated.

"Oh. Well there's this party at Gilbert's house and I, like, totally gotta go cuz everyone's gonna be there and if I don't go-"

"You can't go."

"-it would be complete social suicide but if I could… wait, what? Why not?"

"Because I don't like that Gilbert character, or any of his friends for that matter," his father stated simply.

"If it was Matt's party you wouldn't even think twice about letting me go."

"That's because Matthew's a good kid."

"Dad, you're being judgmental."

"I'm allowed to have partisan views of friends."

"But Dad!" Alfred whined.

"That's enough. You still can't go," his dad said definitively. Arthur then stood up to leave but was interrupted as Alfred scrambled out of his seat.

"Aww c'mon, Dad!" the teen protested. "That's not fair and you know it!"

Arthur quickly turned around and glared at his son. "Are you impugning my decision?"

Alfred held his father's gaze and took a deep breath. "Yes I am," he said firmly.

A long, tense moment passed, and when it became clear that Alfred wasn't about to back down, Arthur sighed.

"When do you think you'll be back?"

Alfred jumped up and let out a loud whoop. "Thanks Dad! I'll be home before 3 in the morning," he said excitedly.

"Wait, Alfred-" but before Arthur could say more the boy had gotten his shoes and coat and was out the door.

Arthur heaved a sigh of exhaustion and slumped back into his chair.

Why do I have to be responsible for the world's most energetic teen?

He put his head in his palms and rubbed his temples. It was going to be another sleepless night. Alfred didn't know it, but Arthur knew about every time the teen had snuck didn't always confront his son about it though. There were nights where it was just easier to let him get away with it. But there were other nights, like this one, where Arthur felt like maybe- just maybe- he could convince Alfred to not go. But the result was always the same: Alfred would go to his party, and Arthur would be home alone, tossing and turning and worrying about his son.

The next morning, after the father had imagined every worst case scenario, he made his way to his son's bedroom prepared to rant about the dangers of staying out too late. And yet, when he saw his son sleeping soundly in bed, Arthur couldn't be mad at him. He was only grateful and content with the fact that Alfred was home safe.

And so another Friday passed. Another would inevitably follow either next week of the week after that. Even though it was a repetitive, tiring and exhausting cycle, Arthur loved his son and wouldn't have it any other way.

Yeah, I know, it's like waaaay short. Still, it's good enough for the assignment and who knows, I might expand on this later.

For now, that's it. Thanks for reading!

Dani~