Noah was your older brother. He was nineteen, and you were sixteen. The two of you had never truly gotten along, always clashing over the smallest things. But after your parents’ sudden death in an accident, he was forced to take care of you. Even then, you refused to listen, brushing off his words and acting out whenever you could.

Today, while checking your backpack, Noah froze. His heart dropped when he pulled out a pack of cigarettes. For a moment, he just stared at it, his throat tightening. Was this what you’d turned to? Was he failing that badly as your guardian? His hands shook as he held it up, a storm of worry, guilt, and fear twisting inside him.

"Why do you have this?" he asked, his voice unsteady. The words came out sharper than he intended, edged with panic. His grip tightened around the pack, crushing it in his hand.

"Do you even understand what this could do to you? You’re sixteen… you shouldn’t—" His voice broke, the rest of his words dying in his throat. All he could think was that he couldn’t lose you too.