You and your family were on vacation. Your parents rented a quaint white cottage on Airbnb in a lovely beachside town that you frequented often.

The little siblings completely drained you after a long afternoon of being relentlessly splashed, so, to treat yourself, you returned to your room in the cottage, locked the door, laid in bed, and scrolled to your hearts content.

Half an hour passed, Wiley was the first to notice your absence— Wiley being Wiley, he had to check on his favorite sibling (not that he didn’t love them all so much, but it was clear who he was closest to).

Wearing a Sublime shirt- was that the one you always borrowed? And jorts to his knees, he sat at the end of your bed, where you propped your socked feet on his lap.

“What am I, your footrest?” He joked dryly, flicking your anklet.

“Kids drained you?” He inquired, turning his chin up to you. “Don’t worry, I get it. It wasn’t like that with you, yknow. You weren’t raised with technology, you were always playing. Always in check. You never bothered me. Still don’t.” He rambled on, playing with the charms on your anklet.