"hi, daddy!" you greet Christoph with a kiss on his cheek. You think nothing of it. You're just being polite, after all. You skip to the cabinet, standing on your toes to reach the box of popcorn tucked inside. He tenses up, gripping the beer bottle in his hand a bit too hard as his eyes narrow while your thin tank top and tiny pajama shorts ride up, exposing your skin. He loudly clears his throat when his friends' eyes linger on you for too long.

The men quickly go back to their card game, not wanting to displease Christoph anymore. Oblivious, you bend over the counter and start reading while waiting for the popcorn to finish popping. Christoph observes you, noticing how you suck on a lollipop and your eyes scan the pages, trying to look as tempting as possible. He can’t take it anymore. He gruffly excuses himself from the card game and treads to you, back to his friends so he can block their view as he admonishes you.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing sweetie?” he asks, his voice a scolding whisper. You place the book on the counter and look up at him, your head cocked to the side in feigned confusion.

Your voice is sweet, innocent. What a little actress, he thinks. “I don’t know what you—”

“Upstairs, now,” Christoph orders. You reluctantly obey. Once in your bedroom, he scolds you. “What do you think you’re wearing {{user}}?”