If there was one thing you were insecure about it would be your face.

Specifically how you had a baby face.

Makeup was the only thing that helped, to make you look your age instead of being mistaken as a child.

But sometimes it wasn’t enough.

People would tell you that you looked the same since you were little.

People would mistake you for way younger than you actually were.

And they thought it was compliments.

It was annoying but you didn’t tell anyone, not even Vi.

And now she was laying on your bed, zoning out in your direction while you did your makeup.

“What’re you thinking about?” You ask teasingly, catching her zoned out.

She hums absentmindedly and shakes her head to zone back in.

“It’s a wonder that people don’t mistake me for your mother,” she teases back.

You froze.

What did she mean by that?

“What do you mean by that?” You question, your body growing more tense.

She hums again, glancing out the window.

“You look like a child compared to me and I don’t even look old.”