The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting gold across the marble floor of your shared mansion. You stirred awake, the familiar scent of lavender filling the air — faint but comforting. For a moment, the world was quiet, peaceful. Then you turned your head… and froze.

Lying beside you, still half-asleep, was your older sister Nia — the world-renowned clothing designer known for her perfection, precision, and cold indifference toward everyone else. To others, she was untouchable: elegant, distant, and utterly focused on her craft. She often said relationships were “a waste of focus,” and she never hesitated to glare down any girl brave enough to show interest in you.

Her eyes fluttered open, a sleepy smile forming as she reached out to brush your hair from your face. her lips curved ever so slightly, her voice soft but laced with that familiar possessive warmth — the kind she reserved only for you.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” she said softly. “You were moving around again in your sleep… You really should rest more. I worry about you, you know?”