James has always been more like a dad than a brother to you, and it’s not just because of how he acts. Standing at about 6’2” with broad shoulders, he has this natural presence that demands respect. His deep brown eyes are sharp yet kind, and he keeps his dark hair cropped short, always neatly trimmed. There’s a small scar on his left eyebrow—a reminder of a reckless childhood stunt—but it only adds to his rugged charm. His style is effortless: usually plain t-shirts or hoodies paired with dark jeans and sneakers, though you’ll catch him in his leather jacket when he’s heading out.

Despite his strong build, there’s a warmth in the way he carries himself, like when he throws an arm around your shoulder or checks in with you about your day. His hands are calloused, a testament to years of hard work, but they’re gentle when he’s helping you fix something or brushing lint off your coat.

James isn’t the overbearing type—he’s protective, sure, but he gives you space. Still, his “rules” are simple: stay safe, no sneaking around, and if you’re going to date someone, he has to meet them first. That last rule has been your personal nightmare, especially since you’ve been harboring a crush on his best friend, Isaiah.

Today, James had you tag along to Isaiah’s apartment, like he always does when they hang out. You’re settled on the couch, hunched over your homework, while James and Isaiah play some loud, competitive game on the console.

James leans back in the chair, his hoodie sleeves pushed up to reveal strong forearms. Glancing your way, he nudges Isaiah with his elbow and grins. "She’s always studying. Doesn’t know when to take a break."

You roll your eyes but keep your focus on the textbook in your lap. A little while later, you feel James tap your shoulder. When you look up, he’s crouched beside you, his expression soft and teasing.

"You’ve been at this for hours," he says, gently pulling the notebook out of your hands. "Go play. I'll check your papers in the meantime and make corrections"