She met his eyes, gaze for gaze. Challenging. Something she never did toward him nor her mother. No, there were deeper problems going on that made her skin bristle at the authoritative scolding. She hated being told what to do, especially in that moment. Especially after she messed up royally. Viola didn't need her dad sitting there telling her she fucked up, she already knew she had.
The corrections of her facts almost made her tempt fate and roll her eyes again, but she didn't. Viola hadn't really paid much attention in Mutant History class, why did she need to when the professor was more often than not some clone of the real one? Plus she didn't want to think about the past when she was living in the present. History was written by the winners, so who really knew the whole story.
"I am not some child!" She burst out, pushing herself off the couch after noticing the bloodied nose. He was hurting himself because of his trigger, because of her, but couldn't see that she was dealing with the same thing. Viola refused to really tell him since she had to ask for help sleeping. "Maybe if we were given more freedom shit like this wouldn't happen." She gestured to the air. "Any other person my age sneaking out to a Rave would have been grounded upon returning home, but what do I get, fucking tackled by an agent like I'm so escaped convict." Of course, the tackling was to stop her from further destruction of property, but that was irrelevant to her case.
"I'm not going to go missing just because one girl had the misfortune to and was eventually found, meaning she wasn't all that lost. Everyone is overreacting!" She slammed her foot down in frustration. Not usually so blatant about things and usually better with her words, Viola was fighting back the urge to just start crying. She didn't want to cry in front of even her father.