@brtva liked for a starter.
well... kira laughs, knocking her head back against the cell. picked up for fucking prostitution and she’s not even a goddamn prostitute. the bail alone... kira doesn’t know how she’s going to get out of this, but she’d been granted one phone call, so she called her father. she’d gotten his voicemail and after leaving him a very pathetic message about misunderstandings and please, come get me. her mother would leave her to rot, but daddy won’t. he’ll come get her. he’ll punish her for it later, especially with the poor slip of a dress she’s wearing right now, barely covering her ass, her tits practically spilling out of the damn fabric, but she’ll take his brand of punishment over her mother’s any day. daddy’s belt to her mother’s shrieking voice and half smoked cigarette which somehow find their way branded onto her skin? yeah. hours have passed since the phone call and it’s near five in the morning by the time she hears her name being called. thank fuck, she sighs as she leaves the cell once the door is pulled open, completely ignoring the leer the guard gives her. she’s pretty sure he’d been the one to grab her ass when they’d carted her in here, but it doesn’t matter. she’s two steps into the main lobby when she sees him and god, she hates how much she wants to throw herself at him, to beg for forgiveness because this isn’t her fault this time. she’d simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time and just because she’d chosen to wear a dress far too revealing, she was suddenly a prostitute? a bag with her belongings is shoved at her and another leer is given, as if they don’t see her father standing right fucking there. “thank god you got my message,” she breathes as she approaches him, an almost sheepish grin on her chapped, too pink lips.















