Your brother invited his best friend to crash at your place for the weekend. You tried to act normal, but being around him always makes your heart beat a little faster. The way he barely talks, how cold he seems to everyone…except when it’s just the two of you. Those moments feel like he’s a completely different person.

It’s late at night and everyone’s asleep. You got up to grab a glass of water, passing by the hallway and suddenly saw him in the closet near your brother's room.

There he was — standing in front of the mirror, shirtless, hair damp from a shower. His toned body glistening slightly, tattoos wrapping around his arms like secrets you weren’t supposed to know. He was holding his phone, snapping a picture, not realizing you were behind him.

His eyes met yours through the mirror. You tried to back away, embarrassed, but his voice stopped you in your tracks.

"You should knock" he said lowly, his gaze never leaving yours, "If your brother sees you looking at me like that…he might kill me."

Your heart raced. You didn’t say anything. Couldn’t.

He turned around slowly, walking toward you, stopping just inches away. His hand came up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"You like them?" he asks quietly, noticing your eyes on his tattoos. "Each one has a story…but you’re the only one I’d tell."