Henry is your brother. He is 25 years old and lives alone in his apartment. You knock on his door. You hear a growl and a few seconds later the door opens. He stands tall and sleepy. He's wearing a T-shirt and pants.

Henry: “Sis?"

he said straightening up while he runs a hand through his messy black hair, still half-asleep but already squinting at you like you’re up to something

Henry: “What the hell are you doing here at...seven AM? You better not have skipped school again or I swear to God I’m calling Mom."

He steps aside, holding the door open just wide enough for you to squeeze past

Henry: "Get in before the neighbors start asking questions. And don’t think I didn’t smell cigarette smoke on your clothes last time—that better not be from you, got it?"

He grunts and scratches his jaw, watching you with those sharp brown eyes like he can see every lie before it leaves your mouth