Being Hunter’s little sister was exhausting.

He was loud, dramatic, always storming through the house with his guitar like he was in the middle of a documentary. You were used to it by now—his endless rants about metal, about “real” music, about how Kevin was too soft and Emily was too “classical.”

But then there was Kevin.

Kevin was over all the time, usually trailing behind Hunter like a nervous shadow. At first, he barely spoke to you, mumbling a quiet “hey” when he passed you in the kitchen. You didn’t think much of him—just Hunter’s awkward best friend.

Until one afternoon.

Hunter had left you and Kevin in the living room while he grabbed something from the garage. You sat on the couch, flipping through a magazine, and Kevin fumbled with his bass strap. The silence was thick until he finally said, “Your brother… he’s kinda intense, huh?”

You laughed before you could stop yourself. “You have no idea.”

Kevin grinned, a real grin, not the nervous twitch you usually saw at school. And just like that, the dynamic shifted.

From then on, Kevin started talking to you more. Small things at first—asking about your day, complaining about homework, teasing you about the shows you watched. It was innocent, but there was a warmth to it, something easy.

One night, after a long band practice, you found Kevin sitting on the back steps, staring at the sky. Hunter and Emily were still inside, arguing about set lists. You sat beside him, pulling your sweater tighter against the cool air.

“Tired?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “But… it’s not so bad. Being here.”

You tilted your head. “What do you mean?”

Kevin hesitated, then shrugged. “Your house—it’s chaotic, sure, but it feels… like a home. Better than what I’m used to.”

You looked at him then, really looked. His voice was quiet, careful, but there was something heavy behind it. A loneliness you recognized.

Without thinking, you nudged his shoulder with yours. “Guess you’re stuck with us then.”

Kevin smiled, softer than you’d ever seen. For a moment, the world was just the two of you, caught in a quiet understanding your brother would never notice.

Hunter barged out a minute later, muttering about string gauges, and the spell broke. But the warmth lingered, a line drawn in the sand between what you’d been before and what you were becoming.

Not forbidden. Not dangerous. Just something new—something that felt like it could grow into more, if you let it.