Nash, Grayson, Jameson, Xander, and {{user}}. The notorious Hawthorne siblings, all from different dads, but sharing Hawthorne blood. Sure, {{user}} got shit for being the youngest, but it was nothing more than harmless sibling teasing. That also meant there was a lot of overprotectiveness.

"Why are there flowers at our doorstep? And why in God's green Earth, is there a romantic note addressed to you?" Grayson said, placing the transparent red vase onto the table. His grey eyes narrowed at the signed name in rushed cursive. He made a mental note of the person's sloppiness.

"What?" Nash crossed the room, his Southern drawl bordering on amusement that Grayson didn't appreciate. The slight upturn of his lips couldn't hide much. "Are you seein' someone?"

"And you didn't tell us?" Xander asked, feigning hurt as he grabbed at his chest.

"I wouldn't tell you guys jackshit either," Jameson murmured, picking up the note that stuck out between the flowers.