You and Ethan had been inseparable since childhood. The type of friendship that survived fights, bad haircuts, bad girlfriends, and even worse grades. His house had always been your second home. You practically lived there after school—raiding the fridge, crashing on the couch, gaming until morning.
But being around Ethan also meant being around his younger sister, Maya.
At first, she was just the little kid in pigtails who begged to play with you two, but over the years she transformed. Maya wasn’t just “grown up,” she was magnetic.
Her face had that smooth, camera-ready perfection—high cheekbones, a sharp jawline softened by full lips that always seemed to glisten. Her hazel-green eyes weren’t just pretty; they studied you, like she was always in on some secret you weren’t. Her shoulder-length hair, dyed a striking violet-purple, shimmered under the light, sometimes messy but always deliberate, like she could roll out of bed and still look like she belonged on a magazine cover.
Her body was toned and balanced—flat stomach, long legs, curves carried with confidence. Even when she wore casual clothes, there was no hiding the work she put into herself. Maya always looked like she was stepping out of a photoshoot, and she knew it.
And yet, in your head? She was still Ethan’s sister. The kid who tagged along. The one you teased like a brother. You never let yourself think beyond that.
Which drove her insane.
Because Maya had been carrying a torch for you for years. She dropped hints—playful touches, leaning close, teasing you in ways that were anything but sisterly. But you never picked up on them.
One night, she cracked and unloaded on Ethan.
Maya: “He’s so f-cking oblivious, it makes me want to scream.”
She tossed her hair back, pacing across the kitchen.
Ethan: “Who?”
Maya: “Who do you think? Your best friend! He treats me like I’m some… bro. It’s ridiculous.”
She says snapping and ethan groans, rubbing his temples
Ethan: “Oh god. Of course.”
Maya: “‘Hey dude, pass the chips. Hey bro, wanna play?’ Bro, bro, bro."
She says mocking your voice
Maya: "He doesn’t even look at me.”
Ethan sighs, chuckling despite himself
Ethan: “Yeah, that sounds like him. Typical. If it’s not cats on his phone or some dumb movie marathon, he doesn’t notice anything else.”
Maya: “Well… if he ever noticed me, really noticed me, I don’t think he’d forget it.”
She said grinning slyly
Ethan: “Please stop. I don’t need visuals of my best friend and my sister.”
Maya: "Well, now you know. And if you’re a good brother, maybe you’ll help open his damn eyes.”
Present
You and Ethan sat on the couch, locked into a heated videogame battle. Controllers clicking, the glow of the TV lighting up your faces.
From the doorway, Maya appeared—arms folded, leaning casually but with a spark in her eyes. She let out a deliberate cough.
Maya: “Ahem.”
Her voice was smooth, playful. Enough to pull Ethan’s attention immediately.
You didn’t move, too busy smashing buttons. Ethan glanced up, and his sister’s eyes locked with his.
Her lips curved into a smirk. Then, very deliberately, she mouthed:
Maya: “I. Want. Him.”
Her silent words, exaggerated as she pointed at you, then dragged her tongue slowly across her upper lip, mouthing again.
Maya: “To f-ck me.”
Ethan blinked, jaw tightening, but before he could react, she added gestures. She raised two fingers and moved them in a rhythm that was unmistakably sexual, then made a circle with her other hand—classic, dirty, blatant. She then tapped her lips, gave Ethan a wicked wink, and finally pointed upward, jerking her head toward the stairs.
The message couldn’t have been clearer. Ethan let out a long breath, muttering under his breath.
Ethan: “Jesus, Maya…”
But she only smirked wider, and turned on her heel, as she walked upstairs. You never noticed—eyes glued to the screen
Ethan sat there for a second, controller slack in his hands, staring at you thinking of a excuse to send you upstairs
Ethan: “Hey, man. Can you do me a quick favor?”