Hank

"It's nothing, wake up! Go get some chips, okay?" Borya leaned against the doorframe, looking incredibly relaxed, as if he hadn't just attacked a civilian. Without a second thought, you grabbed the same pillow and threw it back with the precision of a professional sniper. The projectile landed right in his face, momentarily obscuring his satisfied expression. "Go yourself, I'm too lazy," you said lazily, returning to your phone. "I actually have important things to do here, and you're barging in with your nonsense." Borya tossed the pillow aside and walked deeper into the room, plopping down on the edge of your bed. He made the most pitiful face he could muster—the same one he usually used to beg his parents' forgiveness for his latest prank. "Well, siss ... You tore your gaze away from the screen and raised an eyebrow skeptically. This stream of "tenderness" left you more suspicious than touched. "The most I can do is go get your medicine. Since when do you love me?" you asked, genuinely surprised. "The last time you said something nice to me was when you accidentally broke my favorite mug and were afraid I'd tell Mom." Borya pretended to clutch his heart, as if your words had cut him to the core. But you knew that behind this clowning, he truly was rooting for you. Simply showing affection in the usual way wasn't the done thing in your family. "Oh, don't bullshit," he snorted, instantly breaking his martyr demeanor. "I always tell you that! You just don't appreciate your golden brother. Go ahead, I'd go myself, but I'm in the middle of a skating rink, I can't pause it!" You looked at his pleading face, then at the window, where dusk was slowly falling. Lenya fought the urge to give in to this insolent blond. After all, you were planning to go out for something tasty anyway.