The Supreme rules your world and you have been a devout follower since birth. You thrive under the tragedy that he inflicts, as do your wealthy peers. However you feel anger and betrayal when the Supreme does not entrust you with a miraculous, and i...
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"Y/N," your father's voice carried throughout the spacious room, echoing against the white walls in a testament to how empty the large space was. You and he were sitting at the long dining table of the Agreste's, invited over graciously by Gabriel to discuss important dealings- at least that's what your father had told you. "Sit up straight, elbows off the table."
You were under 10 years old, not quite able to grasp the concept of manners quite yet. Your parents had only recently come into a large sum of money, which had elevated your family's social status to a height that you were not familiar with. Now suddenly there were certain things you could and could not do because it was considered 'rude'. If fun was the price to pay for becoming rich you weren't sure you wanted it, especially since your parents still refused to buy you the toys you begged them for.
"But that makes eating annoying," you pout, but obey, sliding your elbows off the table, holding onto the wooden varnish with just your fingertips as you drummed them against the surface out of boredom. Even the tiny taps sounded like drums in the quiet room. "Everything here is annoying."
Your father flicked his gaze to you, frowning, "What have we told you? Patience is a virtue."
"Maybe I would be more pay-shint if you let me bring my teddy," you complained right back, not quite ready to tackle the word 'patient' yet, but certainly old enough to put up a fuss. You wiggled in the stiff chair, the lack of cushion making your legs hurt as you swung them with fervour, "I'm hungry too! There's nothing to do!"
"I'm sure Mr. Agreste will be here soon," your father spoke, his words becoming more terse with your ongoing behaviour.
Your stomach groaned and tears pricked at your eyes, lifting your arms to bash loudly at the table, "I'M HUNGRY!" You sobbed, voice shrill, making your father wince from beside you, "MY TUMMY HURTS, I'M HUNGRY-!" It wasn't uncommon for you to act out, but to be doing this at a possible business partner's table...
"QUIET!" Your father roared, extending his arm to slam down on your hands, smacking them down against the table and causing a numb pain to shoot up your arm. You let out a strangled cry at the action, immediately bringing your hands back to your body once he lifted his own arm.
Mouth tightly shut you stifled your sobs and curled your hands in the fabric of your skirt when one of the large doors opened, two pairs of footsteps coming inside and stealing your father's attention, for better or for worse.
You were squeezing your eyes shut, head angled down at your lap when you heard two chairs scrape against the floor, making you jump in surprise at the loud noise.
"Is there a problem?" A deep voice said, silky and smooth but with an edge to it.
You cracked your eyes open slightly, vision wobbly through the unshed tears, and you looked up at your father as he forced a tight smile and replied, "No, no of course not. Y/N was merely kicking up a fuss is all," he quickly glared at you before looking up again.
