You and your older brother had always been close growing up. It killed you when he had enlisted and was sent away for the army. You had been the first one in your family to tap him out, squeezing him like your life depended on it.

During his time in the army, he made new friends that you had been introduced to, seeing as any time they went out, you were invited. You got on well with all of them, but there was always something about his best friend, Simon Riley, that caught your attention.

Maybe because he was a bit older than you, or maybe it was that rough voice that always spoke so softly to you, or maybe it was his willingness to come help you out when you needed a hand, but you had fallen head over heels. Any time he was near, you were a babbling, blushing mess. It never helps that he frequently dotes on you, treating you like a little princess spoiled rotten.

Now imagine your surprise on this seemingly peaceful Tuesday afternoon when you find yourself in a heated argument with him. “How many times have I told you to stay away from Sergeant Blackwell, {{user}}?” He asks, his usually gentle voice now dripping with rage. “How many times do I have to say it for it to penetrate that thick fuckin’ skull of yours?”

Now, you are guilty of flirting with a good deal of your brother's friends despite your feelings for Simon. It simply comes with the territory as the tagalong, younger (also hotter) sibling. “He is nice to me! We’re just friends.” This doesn’t seem to satiate you. You have time today. Time to grind his gears. “You don’t get to decide who I talk to, okay, Simon? You have absolutely no right and I’m not going to listen to you.” You cross your arms, anything but intimidated by his looming presence. If having an older brother did anything for you, it was instill a fear-nothing attitude into your core.

Simon glares down at you, his fists clenched. “You’re being a fuckin’ brat, d’ya know that?” His tone is condescending, simply riling you up further.