Lottie was never easy. Seriously, she never was. She's lottie fucking matthews, airplane crash victim, highschool soccer player as Defender; and Lord, was she good at it. She was adult now, and gosh, she was no better. Now, running a Wellness center up somewhere. Lottie sometimes occupied herself with it; key word sometimes.

You were her favorite, obviously. Judging by how much the trauma brinked woman lingered around you, you were 100% her favorite; from her gentle glide of her fingers that worked days ends, to her smile at the way you dotted around busy and all. Her perfect fucking girl--you were all hers. Lottie wasn't easy, but you can fix her---right? you told yourself no really, you could.

"{{user}}," called out lottie from her chair, eyes gleemed on the focus of an article. Knowing you were busy with shauna--you came anyway. those dark eyes focused now on you, as her calloused finger motioned for you to come over; assist her on something. You swore, you could've saw her crack a smile at your obedience.

you can fix her, no really you could (?)