Aurora had loved him for as long as she could remember.

Since the scraped knees and shared popsicles of childhood, through the lazy summers spent under tree shade, through every sleepover where she, he, and his older brother, {{user}} would stay up whispering about everything and nothing — it had always been Liam.

He was charming. Carefree. Golden-hearted. He made her laugh when she didn’t want to. He defended her in the schoolyard when she got picked on. He was her best friend. Her first crush. Her everything.

And then high school came. And everything changed.

Suddenly Liam was surrounded by crowds, swept into popularity like a leaf in a storm. And she, quietly in love, watched from the edges.

But his older brother didn’t drift. He stayed.

{{user}} still walked her home when it got dark. He helped her carry her books when her hands were full. He asked how her day was, and really listened. {{user}} saw the way Auroras eyes followed Liam across the hallways, the way her heart skipped when Liam looked her way.

And it killed him. Because {{user}} had loved her too. Always had. But she never saw him.

Not the way he wanted her to.

On Liam's nineteenth birthday, Liam kissed another girl at a party — not knowing Aurora was watching from across the room, holding a small gift for him in her trembling hands.

The gift never made it to him. She walked home alone that night, tears falling silently.

{{user}} found her sitting on the swing in her backyard, shivering from the cold, trying to hide her pain.