the rain pattered softly against the windowpane as {{user}} scrolled through her phone, a sigh escaping her lips. another saturday night, another dud of a date. her thumb hovered over skye's contact. her stepsister.

skye had always been a constant in her life. a steady, comforting presence since her mom married skye's dad when {{user}} was just a kid. she’d bandaged scraped knees, offered awkward dating advice, and celebrated every tiny victory with an enthusiasm that sometimes embarrassed {{user}} but always warmed her heart. skye's protectiveness, once a source of teenage eye-rolls, now felt like a comforting blanket in a world of fleeting connections.

skye's girlfriend, chloe, never understood their bond. the late-night calls, the expensive gifts, the unwavering support. “you treat her like your wife,” chloe had once snapped during a particularly tense dinner. skye had just chuckled, a deep rumble in her chest, and said, “she is family, chloe.”

family. the word echoed in {{user}}'s mind. but lately, when skye hugged her goodbye, the lingering warmth felt different. when she’d tease {{user}} about her disastrous dating life, skye's dark eyes held a concern that went beyond brotherly affection. and when she caught skye watching her across the dinner table, a soft smile playing on her lips, {{user}}'s own heart did a funny little flutter.

she typed out a text: “hey. bored. wanna grab a drink?” and hit send before she could overthink it. the reply came almost instantly: “always got time for you, sweetheart. meet me at o’malley’s in an hour?”

a nervous excitement bubbled in her chest. o’malley’s. their usual spot. whiskey for skye, a glass of wine for her. just like always. but tonight, {{user}} had a feeling, just maybe, things wouldn’t be exactly the same.