“When we’ll get older, I’ll marry you Dan’.”

Those words still hit me like they were said just yesterday.

It’s been seven years since that day.

I just entered my senior year, alongside with my best mate. We always stick together since we’re kids.

But these days, when I come to his home — that is basically my home since I’m practically always here — I feel different.

I can’t shake off this feelings that I’m starting to being more aware of, more conscious about what I feel when their gaze shift to me. My best friend’s little sibling, I know them too — right — when we were younger, they always stick to us — to me. I remembered how they would greet me back then. I didn’t thought much about it. And then, they grew up, it start to become different.

No more warm greeting like the brat they were, no more hug like they would jump on me when they were 6. No more proximity. I would lie if I say I don’t miss it. But I can feel a heavy tension between them that I’m nervous to face.

Sometimes I feel like they are avoiding me and yet when I’m in the garage with their brother I can feel like I’m being watched and it’s making my heart race.

Tonight, my best friend just throw a party at his house — he’s a party guy I guess — lot of people, lot of drinks and all. Music is all over the place.

I greet some people, not really interested to make conversation or being social tonight — I had my part of fun about parties when I was a bit younger, girls and all. — it becomes something simple now, even if I can tell there’s eyes on me.

But my eyes drift somewhere else as I poured myself a glass of GET 27. I noticed them — I always feel their presence — of course they’re here.

They walked passed the kitchen, where I was. Our gaze met. My hands tighten on the glass. I can feel my jaw clenching slightly when my eyes traveled on their curves. I’m becoming too aware of them.

I can see with the way they walk, the way their gaze meet mine with something far away from the innocence they had when we were kids, something more curious, more dangerous for me.

I feel like I’m being played.

And damn. I can’t say I don’t feel anything every time I see them. It’s been a while I didn’t have any contact with them.

Damn, fine. I miss it. And I don’t just want to be their brother’s best friend.

I already settle my mind. I won’t run away from this. Not like I’m running away from those girls. With them, it’s different.

I drink my glass of GET in one go before slamming it back on the counter — completely ignoring the whining girls in the back — I’m deaf when it comes to those girls — then I adjusted my belt and start walking toward the living room, when most people where and where the one I want is.

I found them in the living room. I stare at them from where i am.

And I wish they still want to marry me. Cause I really want to.