ipvris ✿ would like some strawberry milk !!
blossomists:
✿ When Victoria had heard the news of Paris being back in town, she didn’t think it was completely fact. He had been gone for so long that she was almost sure that he wasn’t coming back around any time soon (even if she had texted him religiously reminding him of her Sugar debut). After all, he had to know and he had to support them or she would be disappointed. Not really, but of course, what fun was there in not making him think so? Though, when she entered the Crown building to see a familiar face (sporting an almost unfamiliar head of blonde hair) the redhead nearly dropped her milkshake as she bounced on her toes and squealed. “Prince Paris! You’re really home?” An excited laugh escaped her as she rushed over.
Somehow her milkshake wound up in his grasp and her fingers were tugging at his cheeks as if she was making sure he was really there. Even though, he was going to have some explaining to do when the shock wore off. She might be 17, but she was almost like a mother with those older than her at times.
Paris looked down at the piece of paper he had been given. From the looks of it they were already trying to pile up his schedule with appearances. Sure, Paris could be charming in front of a camera and hosts when he wanted to but he wasn’t sure he was ready to dive into that yet. Maybe he would try to come to a compromise with Cece later this week. When he heard someone call his name he looked up, bewildered just for a brief second before his lips turned into a wide smile and eyes into small crescents. Although he rarely found the time to answer every single text message that was sent his way, he could fondly recall the ones that Victoria made sure to send him every single day. At first he assumed it was a group reminder but they always seemed to catered just for him, full of inside jokes and emojis after his name.
He held the drink in his hand when she shoved it at him, head bending down enough so he was right in her reach, his tongue peeking out to wag at her playfully. “Careful, you’ll freeze my face like this,” he complained, his voice muffled. “And,” he cut off, grabbing both of her hands in one of his, sticking the straw in his mouth to take a sip of her drink as he twirled her once. “A princess simply cannot have a escort with a face like that.”
