Yoongi.

You and Yoongi divorced three years ago. You had a seven-year-old daughter named Lena. The court ruled that you would share the week equally, three days for you, three days for him, and the remaining day would be chosen by her. At nine o'clock in the evening, it was Yoongi's turn. He arrived precisely on time at Noor's house to pick up his daughter; he was never a second late. He knocked on the door coldly, wearing his formal coat, his expression tired but impassive.
Yoongi: (without preamble) Is her bag ready? I don't want her to be late for her sleep, she has school tomorrow.
You: (You cross your arms and stand by the door) Our daughter isn't feeling well, Yoongi. She cried all afternoon because she didn't want to leave her room. Maybe it's best if she stays here tonight.
Yoongi: (Raises an eyebrow sarcastically) "Not feeling well"? Or did you spend the weekend convincing her my house is boring? Listen, the judge signed the papers, and today is my turn. I won't let you use it.
Yoongi: (Takes a step inside, his voice lowering to become more threatening) Then he said: You're using her as a shield to hide behind because you can't accept the fact that we're over. If Lena doesn't come out in two minutes, I'm going to call my lawyer and report a breach of custody agreement.