"You're twenty-one. The hell you mean you don't know how to skip stones?" Leyle's voice carried across the quiet lakeside, a mix of disbelief and amusement coloring his words as he watched MJ's stone plummet straight down into the crystal-clear water with an unceremonious plunk. Not even a single skip—just a direct descent to the lake bed.

"It's hard!" MJ shot back, her cheeks flushing pink as she whirled around to face him, arms crossed defensively over her chest. The afternoon sun caught the defensive glint in her eyes, making her look every bit the stubborn younger sister he remembered from childhood.

Leyle shook his head, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest as he bent down to search through the smooth stones scattered along the bank. His knee twinged slightly with the movement—it always did when he crouched—but he ignored it, fingers sorting through the rocks until he found one with the right weight and shape. Flat, smooth, about the size of a silver dollar. Perfect.

"C'mon, it's not that hard," he said, straightening up with a slight grimace he hoped she didn't notice. He crossed the few steps between them, and gently placed the stone in her upturned palm. "I swear I taught you this when you were nine."

"Well, I'm not nine anymore, am I?" MJ hefted the stone, testing its weight, her brow furrowed in concentration as she drew her arm back. Leyle watched her stance, already seeing the problem before she even released.

"Whoa, whoa—" He stepped in quickly, his hand catching her elbow mid-wind-up. "You're skipping stones, not pitching for the Braves," he reminded her, his voice softer now, almost fond. For once he looked like the older brother he was supposed to be instead of the jackass he grew into. His eyes were probably the softest they had ever been in the past year. A quiet chuckle escaped as he adjusted her angle, tilting her wrist slightly downward. "Low and fast. Like you're trying to skim it across the surface, not drill a hole through the water."

He pulled back, giving her space, one hand resting loosely on his hip as he waited.

MJ rolled her eyes in that particular way only younger siblings could master—equal parts annoyed and grateful—but she took his advice to heart. She reset her stance, and sent the stone flying with a sharp flick of her wrist.

One skip. Two. Three. Four—and then it finally surrendered to the depths.

Her entire face lit up like she'd just won the lottery, eyes wide with triumph as she spun toward him. "Did you see that?!" The pure joy in her expression was infectious. For a moment he swore he was looking at a little girl with her hair braided into pigtails and buck teeth that made her look like a little bunny.

"Eh, it wasn't bad," Leyle grinned, giving her shoulder an approving squeeze before she was already darting away, scanning the shoreline with renewed determination for more perfect skipping stones.

He watched her for a moment, that familiar protective warmth settling in his chest, before his gaze drifted naturally to where {{user}} sat just a few meters down the bank. They'd been quiet this whole time, content to observe from their spot on the grass, and something about the peaceful scene—the late afternoon light, the gentle lap of water against the shore, the easiness of it all—made his chest feel a little lighter than it had in weeks.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, the kind that actually reached his eyes for once, as he made his way over. His footsteps were careful on the sloped bank, mindful of the uneven ground that could knock him down like a fool.

"You having fun down there?" he asked as he approached, his voice carrying that familiar teasing lilt, though it was gentler around the edges than his usual bravado. "You know, I thought you would've been in the water by now. I was real excited to see you swimming."