Dinnertime, Daddy? || Emalie and bloodyjimmy
Emalie stepped out of her room, nose buried in a copy of the original French Les Mis. She walked down the halls and to the dining room, closing the book and lettting it dangle in her hand by her side, her eyes searching the room for Jim. “Daddy?” She asked questioningly. “Are you here?”
She rubbed her foot on the back of her other leg, the thick, woolen white socks itching a bit. But it was always so cold in the halls, and she didn’t like it when her feet were cold. “Dinnertime, Daddy?” She still didn’t see him, and her breathing became a little faster, getting nervous. She was hungry, she hadn’t eaten in a while. She didn’t like making food for herself and so she often waited for Jim to bring her something, if he did.
tagged as: dinnertime daddybloodyjimmyhope that was okay?