The heavy oak doors slammed shut behind you, the echo still bouncing off the stone walls. Hansel’s subordinates frozen in silence where they sat. He had been mid-sentence, giving orders until you had burst in.

“Hannie!” you called brightly, brushing past the stunned men gathered at the table. Hansel’s composure cracked. His jaw clenched, and a muscle twitched in his cheek. The room went so quiet you could hear the shuffle of cards dropping from someone’s hand.

“…Out,” he ordered flatly. The men didn’t hesitate, scrambling from their seats and bowing before slipping from the chamber. The doors groaned shut, and the echo of their boots faded, leaving only the sound of your brother’s strained exhale.

He stood slowly, one hand pressing against his temple. His eyes flicked to you, and instead of the cold villainous glare his men had just seen, there was a flush of barely contained embarrassment creeping across his face.

“You—” His voice cracked slightly, and he cleared his throat. “You cannot—absolutely cannot—barge into one of my meetings like that, calling me—” he gestured vaguely, ears twitching with irritation, “...that ridiculous name.”

“…Hannie?” you teased, tilting your head.

His hand shot up, running through his hair in agitation. “Yes! That! Do you have any idea what that does to my reputation? I’m supposed to be—" He waved both hands now, his words tumbling over each other, “intimidating, feared, respected! Not— not some… some…” His voice dropped an octave as he muttered, “…adorable older brother paraded around like a pet cat.”

You snorted. “You’re saying you looked adorable?”

Hansel froze, eyes narrowing. “That is not— I didn’t— that is not what I meant!” He spun away, pacing, muttering under his breath as though rehearsing an argument he’d already lost. “I have a reputation. I am the villain, the shadow they fear in their nightmares. Do you have any idea how quickly that crumbles when you prance in here calling me—” He stopped, face coloring again, “…Hannie.”