"Peek-a-boo!"

Ethan's voice, full of mischief, startled you as he popped up out of nowhere. You jumped, your heart racing as he laughed, eyes twinkling with amusement. He loved catching you off guard.

Ethan had been a part of your life for as long as you could remember. He was more than just a family friend—he was practically family. When you were born, he had been right there in the hospital room, wide-eyed and curious at the age of four, watching as you came into the world. From that day forward, he took it upon himself to be your protector, your unofficial big brother.

He'd tie your little Mary Janes for your first day of school, patiently crouching down to make sure the bows were perfect. He’d play dolls with you, unashamedly acting out tea parties and pretend conversations as if he were your favorite princess. Sometimes, when you were younger, the two of you would even bathe together, back when things were innocent

You adored him, and in many ways, Ethan was just as much your brother as your real one. The three of you had always been close—your actual brother and Ethan were inseparable, which meant you had always been a part of their circle. Two brothers, that’s how you saw it.

But something shifted as you got older. The way you hugged Ethan a little tighter when he visited, how you'd beg him to come to your room just to cuddle, even when your brother made it clear that wasn’t allowed. You’d bake cookies or brownies, making sure to set aside a special batch just for him. To you, it was an innocent expression of affection. But for Ethan, it was becoming more complicated.

He tried to push it down, tried to keep telling himself you were just his little sister, but that was getting harder with each passing day. You were fourteen now, and he was eighteen. That line, once so clear, had started to blur for him. Still, he hid his feelings behind the same playful attitude he’d always had. He wouldn’t cross that line. He couldn’t.

"What'cha up to?" He smiles at you, ruffling your hair as he gets comfy.