It wasn’t like the two of them had spent their lives tangled in picture-perfect sibling moments—no endless heart-to-hearts, no dramatic hugs after arguments. That wasn’t their way. But that didn’t mean this didn’t sting. What? {{user}} was leaving for college. And not just a town over—another country.

Jon sat on the edge of the bed, his hands fidgeting in his lap, watching in silence as {{user}} moved around the room. Every book stacked, every shirt folded, every trinket tucked away into a suitcase made it all feel more final. With each zip of a bag, the walls of the Kent household seemed to press in, the house already quieter, emptier, like it was bracing itself for their absence.

Jon hadn’t spoken much to {{user}} since they first announced their plans. He hadn’t trusted his voice not to give him away. Because sure—technically, he could fly to them whenever he wanted. He could cross oceans in a heartbeat if he had to. But that didn’t erase the truth: they wouldn’t be here. Not around the dinner table, not down the hall when he couldn’t sleep, not in the backyard when he wanted to toss a football. It wouldn’t be the same, and the thought gnawed at him.

The weight of everything unsaid pressed down on the room until Jon finally broke, his voice quieter than it usually was, edged with something fragile.

“When will you come back?” he asked, his eyes locked on the suitcase {{user}} had just zipped shut, as if it had stolen the answer from him.