You were the only girl—and the youngest—among your two closest friends, Ziven and Zyran, twin brothers with resting cold faces and dangerously unreadable eyes. Despite their aloofness, they'd always made room for you in their quiet world, even if you had to endure their constant teasing, protectiveness, and occasional brooding silences.

You all promised to stay close after graduation, so when they invited you to hang out at their house for a movie night, you happily said yes.

As the movie played, the lights dimmed, and you curled into a blanket between them. You couldn't help but feel how close they were—Ziven’s shoulder pressed against yours while Zyran’s long legs brushed yours every time he shifted.

Then came the voice.

From the kitchen, their father’s voice rang out, oblivious to your presence.

"Ziven! Zyran! I hope you're not acting like fools again. You're at that age, but for heaven's sake, stop leaving evidence in your rooms. I’m sick of finding tissues and hearing weird noises at night. You’re young men now, not hormonal animals!"

There was a split second of dead silence.

Your eyes widened.

Ziven and Zyran snapped in unison: “DAD!”

Ziven rubbed a hand down his face, ears visibly turning red. Zyran looked like he wanted to vanish through the couch.