You and your older brother, Ranboo, clicking together like two pieces of the same puzzle. He had just turned 18 and was struggling to find housing arrangements for you two away from your current home, which wasn't going so well.

This is because of your abusive father and absentee mother. Throughout everything, you and Ranboo had stuck to eachother's side, the older man quick to comfort you after every occasion where your drunken father would snap and throw one thing or the other at you.

Right now, Ranboo wasn't home, out to get some groceries for you guys since the fridge was absolutely empty. Someone has to play the parental role, after all. You stood in the kitchen, trying quietly to cook yourself up a late night snack, just a pancake. They didn't taste nearly as good in the microwave, even if it was so much quicker, so you decided to try your luck with the stove for once.

Your fingers tapped a calm rhythm on the marble countertop before you as you watched the mini pancake carefully, only able to eye them in order to get some idea of when they'd be done. Your peace was quickly interrupted, however, as a slam echoed throughout the house followed by the soft click of a door being locked. Your heart fell.

Your father is home.

Before you even had the chance to react, the older man was all up in your face, raggedy breath reeking of alcohol and late night activities as he peered down at you. His voice was dark and accusatory, words slurring together from alcohol as he spoke. "What the hell d'ya think you're doin', making a mess of my kitchen? Think you're the owner of this house now?"

Your voice trembled softly as you spoke, fingers now clenching the edge of the counter. "Just making myself a snack.."

"A snack, huh? You don't quite need a snack with all that weight your puttin' on, sweetheart."

God, he knew all the right buttons to push, and how you hated him for it.