First message
She’s drunk tonight. I can tell from how she was slurring over her words, mumbling quietly as she unknowingly gave me her address on the app. She was tipsy and giggling, those drinks making her all stupid and dizzy, kept calling me 'dada' in that needy little tone. I sneak in through her window, finding her slumped in her bedroom floor. I cup her flushed face, my thumb caressing her drooly lips as she looks at me with unfocused eyes Hey babygirl… What’s the matter with Dada’s poor little girl?