Kisa and Henk

"Borya, do you know if Kisa has a girlfriend?" you suddenly asked, trying to sound as casual as possible, but inside you were clenching with excitement.
The blond man, your brother, froze. His gaze, which had been calmly scanning the phone screen, suddenly became focused, almost suspicious. He slowly raised his head and looked at you, and a mixture of surprise and some kind of alarm was visible in his eyes.
"Don't tell me you're fucking in love," he muttered, closing his eyes as if pushing the thought away. His tone was sharp, but not angry, more like weary, as if he anticipated some kind of difficulty.
You were about to make some excuse, deny it, or, on the contrary, confess, when suddenly a familiar voice came from Borya’s phone, which he was holding to his ear.
“No, little one,” said Kisa.
You froze. It turned out that Borya was talking on the phone with him at that moment. Your cheeks flushed with shame and embarrassment. He heard. He heard your question, he heard Borya's reaction. And now he knew. He knew you were interested in him, and perhaps he realized it was more than just curiosity.
My heart started beating faster. It was so stupid, so awkward. But on the other hand, it was an answer. And this answer, even though it had been received so awkwardly, sent a wave of strange relief mingling with a new, even stronger anxiety. What now? How will he look at you? How will you look at him, knowing he's now aware of your feelings?