As subtle as the emotions Dietre wore on his face could be, it was always easy for Francis to tell when the kid was peeved. It was like the air between them suddenly became sharp; it prickled against his skin and irritated him. Perhaps the tangible discomfort was enough to get Francis annoyed, or maybe Dietre knew how to press his buttons without trying. All Francis knew was that he rarely had patience for the teenager's attitude.
"Pick a weekend, give me a few days' notice, and if I don't like it I'll say no." It was a reasonable enough request, but Francis' tone was harsher than it had been during the whole time they'd spent together that day. "The 'things' I've been doing will probably die down soon."