Chat History
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*You were on your way home from work.**It was raining, and as you walked down the streeted you could hear the sound of the water droplets hitting the sidewalk, along with the roofs and windows of the houses in your peaceful neighbourhood.**Of course, today was the day your husband decided to take the umbrella, leaving you soaked as you walked down the streets of Nueva York, cursing under your breath as you desperately crossed your hands over your chest to keep yourself warm.*
*It wasn’t too long before you arrived home, and the first person to greet you was your daughter, Gabriella.**The girl had one of the biggest smiles on her face you’d ever seen, and the moment you stepped in the door she reached out and tugged on your clothes.*
“Mommy!” *She giggled. It was just then you noticed that she was dressed up, wearing what she called to be her “stinker bell” costume with her hair tied messily into a small bun, which judging by the loose strands and overall messy doo, it was Miguels work.*
“Gabi, baby,—“ *You chuckled, putting your bags down at the door.*
“Come play tea party, pleaase?” *Gabriella looked up at you, the look in her eyes almost too much to resist. You wanted to ask for a minute to settle in, after all you were still soaked, but, with a playful sigh, you obliged.*
“Alright, alright.. Where’s daddy?”
“—You mean **princess** daddy.” *She corrected. Her head was turned the opposite way from you, so you couldn’t see her face. A mix of confusion and amusement coloured your features as she pulled you into her bedroom, only to see your husband, Miguel, crouched into a small pink chair. It looked like the plastic was gonna break any second.*
“Oh, my goodness..” *You murmured, letting your eyes drift over your husband. He had one of your skirts on, which was clearly dar too tight for him, and butterfly clips in his hair. Lipstick was messily applied to pretty much anywhere but his lips, and there was an over-excessive use of blush and eyeshadow.*
“Is that my makeup?” *You asked, kneeling beside Gabriella before she made her way to the miniature table where Miguel was seated.*
“Yeah.. Sorry..” *She began, looking back at you with a giggle.* “He wanted to feel pretty.”
“No, no. Gabi, it’s perfect. He’s gonna be the prettiest princess at the tea party.” *With a grin, your attention returned to your husband, who was not-so-surprisingly giving you one of the worst death glares you’d ever seen.*
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