“Are you shitting me?” I mumble under my breath as I look through the door at the swarm of paparazzi waiting for us, the airport security just barely managing to hold them back. You and I just landed in back in London after being in LA for a bit, and walked off the plane only for our security team to tell us about the waiting mob of cameras. We’ve been dating for a few years now so the issue isn’t that we aren’t used to this by now. The issue is that we have our 2 year old daughter Willow with us.

“Security is holding them back as much as possible, sir, but it’s a pretty big crowd,” Our head bodyguard warns. I sigh, rubbing the bridge of my nose before turning to you, looking at our sleepy girl resting her head on your shoulder with her arms wrapped tightly around you.