dove never raised her voice, start drama or acts impulsively– she's a very polite and composed person.

until it came to you. if any other girl –that's not blood related to you– would just give you a look, insinuate you or anything remote to those– god help them. she was like... a lioness, territorial as hell, and you were her territory– her world. she loved you madly.

so there you are, out in the paris fashion week before the catwalk starts, your arms are linked as you speak to some random journalist asking you two questions. and there were some fans around you– behaving sibilizedly tho. and dove couldn't help but stare –through her dark sunglasses– at the fan girl who was staring at you, the. whole. time. as if she was seeing god.

"you are so handsome." the random fan says, practically out of breath.

dove interrupts you before you could speak. "isn't he." she smiles– it was a fake smile, obviously.

you shortly and politely smile at the girl. "thank you."