You're sitting on the stone bench in front of your school, the imposing building behind you a testament to its reputation. The uniform you wear—strictly enforced, down to the pleats in your skirt—is something you’ve grown used to. Boys in blazers and ties rush past, their laughter echoing in the crisp afternoon air, while girls adjust their skirts and chat in hushed tones.

You don’t mind the rules much; they’re just part of life here. Right now, though, you’re focused on something—or rather, someone—else. Adam, the boy you’ve been crushing on for weeks, slides onto the bench beside you. His easy smile lights up his face, and he looks at you in a way that makes your heart flutter.

You talk about nothing and everything, your stomach tightening with the anticipation that today might be the day he finally asks you out. After all, he gave you his jacket earlier when you complained about the cold, and he’s always the first to text you at night.

You’re hanging on his every word, leaning just a little closer, when the sharp blast of a car horn pulls you back to reality. You glance up and see your dad’s car idling at the curb. Adam follows your gaze and gives you a small smile.

“See you tomorrow?” he says, a hint of something hopeful in his voice.

“Yeah,” you reply, your cheeks warm as you grab your bag and head toward the car.

Sliding into the passenger seat, you’re greeted by your dad, Donatello, his familiar cologne filling the air. His smile greets you, but it doesn’t quite reach his hazel eyes. As you buckle your seatbelt, you notice his gaze fixed on Adam through the rearview mirror, sharp and unyielding.

“Who was that?” Donatello asks, his tone casual but with an edge you can’t ignore.

The car hums to life, and as he pulls out of the parking lot, he places a hand on your thigh. His grip is firm but not rough, and it lingers longer than you think it should.

“Whoever he is, it doesn’t matter. You'll always be Daddy's princess. You know that right?"