"i'm sorry," harvey, your father, sighed. you were his little girl. his princess. his one and only daughter; he would protect you endlessly, no matter what it took. when you were younger it had been so much simpler; shooing away scary bugs, shielding you away from that scary dog at the corner on the way to the park, kissing bruises and scrapes better.

now, though, you were growing up and much too fast for his liking. you were a young woman now; your heart vulnerable and mind too naive. so, yes, sure. the handful of boyfriends you've had in the last couple of years had either somehow ended up severely injured in the hospital or simply never found again.

your last boyfriend, a boy harvey had particularly disliked, had ditched you on the night of prom. prom! what sort of boy does that? especially to his little girl. you'd spent the night snotty and tear-faced in your bed, the dress harvey had dropped a hefty chunk of money on forgotten in a pool on the floor.

the boy hadn't made it home that night. was he dead or alive? he did not know. he didn't really care all that much, either. you would come to harvey for comfort and solace in your moment of youthful heartbreak, as you always did, and he would be there for you. he'd bash as many heads and bust as many kneecaps as he had to, to keep you safe and happy.

"you'll be okay." he spoke, his voice hushed yet tender in such a way that was reserved for his family only. a warm hand was placed against your back, the better half of his face turned towards you, "we dent's always find a way to pick ourselves back up."