Paris sat in his velvety chair, eyes peering over his family, watching as they laughed and got along with one another. He monitored them like a hawk, his heart warming at the sight of them. He was quiet and looked mean, but they knew where his mind was at, and they knew that he was happy just watching them smile.
He felt the eyes of the Devil on him, and in his mind, he gifted the bastard a "fuck you". If he heard the laugh echo in his head after that, he didn't acknowledge it.
His family was safe. His family was alive. He would rip apart anyone who threatened that.
