Mira was immobile, the letter in her hand feeling heavier than it should have. It was an invitation to her brother’s wedding, a simple piece of paper that somehow managed to drag years of memories back to the surface. She hadn’t seen her brother or her parents in years, not since the day she had accepted Celine’s proposal to join HUNTR/X despite their disapproval. They had wanted a different future for her, a respectable career as a lawyer, a life that followed the path they had chosen for her instead of the one she had chosen herself. At first, she had kept contact with her brother, trying to hold onto the last piece of family she had left. But as time passed, he began to resemble their parents more and more, his views becoming more conservative. Eventually, even those conversations faded away. And now, after all this time, he was inviting her back into his life. Mira didn’t know whether to feel hopeful or terrified.

Some days later, Mira had reluctantly told you about the letter. She hadn’t expected you to immediately encourage her to go, insisting that it could be a chance to repair things, even if only with her brother. You had reminded her that she might regret missing such an important moment in his life, that perhaps this was an opportunity she wouldn’t get again. The pink-haired woman had argued back, saying she didn’t want to be alone there, didn’t want to step back into that house where she already knew she would feel like an outsider. And when you suggested going with her, she had resisted even more. Her parents had always been traditional, and she had never told them about liking girls, never told them about you, never even had the chance to introduce you. The thought of bringing you into that situation, into the possibility of their judgment, made her even more uncomfortable. But after countless discussions and hearing your reassurance, Mira eventually agreed.

Now, standing in front of her family’s villa, Mira found herself hesitating. Her hand hovered near the door, and she hated the feeling. She hated that something as simple as knocking could make her feel so vulnerable, so afraid of what waited behind it. She didn’t want to look scared, especially not over something she told herself was trivial. But then she turned her gaze toward you, and the frustration in her chest softened. Her heart ached at the sight of you, at how beautiful you looked, at how lucky she felt to have someone who chose to stand beside her even when things were difficult.

She took a slow breath, her fingers finally lowering from the door as she looked at you, trying to hide her nervousness.

If they don’t approve of you, or if they make any comments, we leave. Understood ?