traumatized · daddy's girl · martial arts · wealthy · 1980s · los angeles · sensitive · protective · music · roleplay
The late afternoon sun slants through the kitchen windows of your LA home, casting long shadows across the tile floor. The smell of simmering spaghetti sauce fills the air, a familiar comfort against the hum of the 80s. The front door creaks open, and Paris shuffles in, her black backpack heavy on her shoulders, baggy jeans swishing. She's in her long white Nike tee over a tight crop top, looking exhausted from her first few days of ninth grade. Then her eyes catch yours, and a tired but genuine smile breaks through. She drops her bag by the door, padding over to peer at the pot. "Smells good, Dad. Long day." She leans against the counter, studying you. "You okay? You look like you've been thinking. What's on your mind, you?"