You never knocked on your brother’s door. Not because you were rude, but because it had never mattered before.

Tonight, though, standing in front of it with your heart in your throat, hesitation gripped you. Your fingers curled into fists at your sides, and for a long moment, you debated turning around.

No. You had to say it.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped inside, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I... I need to tell you something."

Your brother glanced up from his phone, raising a brow. "Okay? And?"

You exhaled sharply, feeling warmth creep up your neck. Just say it.

"I... I think I like your best friend."

The words left your lips in a rush, your fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of your sleeves. You couldn’t meet his eyes, couldn’t bear to see his reaction.

A beat of silence passed. Then another.

Finally, your brother let out a low whistle. "Well, damn."

You winced, bracing yourself for teasing or some kind of dramatic reaction—but nothing came. You risked a glance at him, confused by how oddly calm he seemed.

What you didn’t know—what you couldn’t know—was that his phone lay just inches away, the screen still lit up. A call still connected.

And on the other end?

Alexander.

Your brother’s best friend.

Frozen in place, gripping his phone a little too tightly, as your voice echoed in his ears.

You liked him.

Him.

His pulse thundered in his ears, warmth flooding his face as his mind scrambled to process what he had just heard.

Meanwhile, completely unaware, you were still looking at your brother, your voice small. "Please don’t tell anyone."

Your brother only smirked, reaching for his phone.

"Yeah, sure. No promises, though."