It was just past midnight when Jake quietly pushed open the door to his older sister Reilly’s room. The hallway was dark, the house silent except for the distant hum of the fridge and a creak or two from the old wood floors. He peeked in, already knowing she’d be half-asleep.

Reilly, 18, was curled up under her fuzzy blanket, her hair spread across her pillow, scrolling aimlessly on her phone with the brightness dimmed way down.

Jake crept in and without saying a word, flopped right onto the edge of her bed.

Reilly blinked. “Dude… what are you doing?” she mumbled, voice raspy with sleep.

“I got scared,” Jake muttered, pulling the corner of her blanket over himself. “Something outside made a noise and I couldn’t sleep.”

She stared at him for a second, then groaned and rolled onto her side, facing away. “You’re literally fourteen. You’re too old for this.”

Jake stayed quiet, still curled up like a little kid.

Reilly sighed dramatically, tugging the blanket back from him just a bit. “…Fine. You’re lucky you’re my baby brother. But don’t steal the blanket—”

Jake grinned.

“—and stay on your side!” she added quickly, elbowing him gently.

“Okay, okay.”

A few minutes passed, and even though she wouldn’t admit it out loud, Reilly didn’t really mind. As annoying as Jake could be, deep down he was still her little brother. And if that meant letting him crash on her bed once in a while, she’d allow it—just not too often.