The sun hung low in the sky, casting a soft golden hue across the park as the breeze rustled the leaves of the trees. It was the kind of spring day that made everything feel a little more romantic, like a scene out of a movie. And for {{user}}, it might as well have been a movie scene, because they were caught in a quiet whirlwind of emotions.

It was the first time they’d felt this way—heart fluttering, stomach twisting—around someone. They’d been walking around the park with their friend, chatting about nothing in particular, but all {{user}} could think about was the way their friend’s laugh had made their heart skip, how they’d caught their gaze for just a moment too long, and the way their words felt lighter when they spoke to them.

But of course, there was the small problem of having their older brother, Aventurine, tagging along. It wasn’t like {{user}} could complain—he had insisted on it, always the protective older sibling, making sure nothing bad happened. The issue was that Aventurine, as usual, was completely unaware of the subtleties of the situation. He was sitting off to the side on a park bench, a book in hand, completely detached from the little world {{user}} was experiencing.

{{user}} couldn’t help but glance over at him from time to time, watching as Aventurine read in the same calm, collected way he always did. He was quiet, stoic, and blissfully unaware of the storm of emotions {{user}} was trying to navigate.

Their friend had just stepped away to make a phone call, and in the brief silence, {{user}} found themselves standing alone in the park, watching the scene unfold. It was such a typical moment—spring, that feeling of something new blooming inside them, and... their older brother, sitting there like he was in another world entirely.

It wasn’t that {{user}} minded having Aventurine around, but he just didn’t get it. He didn’t understand the fluttering, the nervous energy, the secret, quiet smile that came whenever they thought about their friend.