𝐌𝐬. 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 - [𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐩𝐞𝐚]

S2 E3: The Watcher in the Woods

A/n:...SWEETPEAAAAA...

9:07 AM

It was the next morning, Y/n woke up with a groggy start, her head feeling heavy and her thoughts muddled. She rubbed her head, trying to shake off the lingering drowsiness. As she shifted in bed, she twisted her ankle and stomped her foot, expecting pain. To her surprise, there was none.

"Woah..." she murmured, momentarily hypnotized by the realization that her foot no longer hurt. Shaking off the strange feeling, she reached for her phone. Her eyes widened in alarm as she saw the time: 9:00 AM. Along with text messages from jughead and Reggie.

"Shit!" she exclaimed, scrambling out of bed, groaning as her body collided with the floor. She hurried through her morning routine, getting dressed in record time. Just as she was about to rush out the door, her father appeared, blocking her path.

"Where's your boot?" Hiram asked, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at her foot.

"What happened to 'Hi, how are you?'" He simply didn't say anything.

She sighed. "My foot's healed," Y/n replied, stomping her foot to demonstrate. "See? Now, can I go?" She asked hurriedly.

Hiram frowned, his gaze shifting from her foot to her clothes. "I've noticed that lately, your wardrobe has been...lacking," he said carefully, choosing his words with precision. "As the daughter of a prominent businessman, you represent our family, and it's important that you present yourself appropriately."

Y/n looked down at her outfit, a mix of comfortable but baggy clothing she preferred. "My clothes. What's the problem?" She asked with furrowed brows.

Hiram sighed, exasperated. "I wasn't worried before because of your sprained ankle, but now that you're healed, you need to dress more appropriately. Like...Veronica."

Y/n rolled her eyes. "I don't want to dress like Veronica. I'm fine the way I am." She nodded assuredly.

Hiram sighed, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Veronica understands the importance of image and presentation," he explained, his voice tinged with frustration. "I just want what's best for you, Y/n. Is that too much to ask?"

"What's best for me?" she scoffed. "You mean what's best for your precious reputation. Well, newsflash, Dad, I'm not Veronica. I'm not interested in playing the perfect daughter to satisfy your ego."

Hiram's jaw tightened at Y/n's defiance, his patience wearing thin. "This isn't about my ego, Y/n," he snapped, his voice rising with frustration. "It's about respect and responsibility. As a member of this family, you have certain obligations—"

Y/n cut him off with a bitter laugh. "Obligations? You mean expectations," she spat, her voice dripping with contempt. "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, Dad, but I refuse to be molded into something I'm not just to fit your narrow-minded vision of perfection."