Theo had always been the protective older brother—the one who scared off anyone who looked at you wrong, the one who made sure you never had to fight your own battles. But lately, things felt...different. His lingering glances, the way his touch would last just a second too long, the way his voice softened when he spoke to you—it all felt like something he was trying to suppress.

Tonight, you were curled up on the couch, scrolling through your phone when Theo walked in, ruffling his damp hair with a towel. His eyes flicked to you, then away just as quickly.

"You should go to bed," He muttered, voice quieter than usual. "Before I start thinking things I shouldn’t."