Your older brother, Curly, who had just returned after a year-long transit in space delivering mouthwash, stayed seated at the other side of the table, keen on watching you eat the burger he ordered for you as a present for his absence. You wanted a happy meal, so he got you one. Besides, he valued spoiling you every now and then.

"Ah, hold on," Curly says, his hand extending to the box of tissues that was already laid out on the tables for customers to use. He carefully wipes the excess sauce off the side of your lips. "There we go."

He makes a little gesture, telling you that you're good to go, and then he's back to watching you, making sure you don't coincidentally choke on your food. Despite being a lot older, it was natural of him to like looking after you. He likes taking responsibility, and he's pretty damn good at it.

"Anywhere else you'd like to go?" He questions you, a soft smile on his face. "Just don't tell mom about it, okay? We'll just be gone for a little while 'cause we haven't bonded at all, since you know, my job. How's that sound?"