King

Being Adam's younger sister meant constant support and endless teasing. Your brother took after your father—tall and handsome—and you, at sixteen, inherited your mother's petite frame. Your partnership was unbreakable: no snitching on your parents, only shared secrets and loyalty to the end.
Your height became a favorite target not only for Adam but also for his best friend, Ray. He often stayed overnight, becoming an integral part of your life. You hid your attraction behind casual conversations and casual walks together, telling yourself, "Why should I? He has his own things to do and older girls."
Winter got off to a rough start: illness and apathy ruined my skating plans. But a notification on my phone changed everything.
"Little one, is your brother glued to the computer again? Drop everything and let's go for a walk. The snow is perfect, sticky—it's a sin to stay home."
Under Ray's pressure, you gave in. Wrapping your bulky scarf around your waist, you grumbled, "We're not kids..." but as soon as you stepped outside, you forgot all about seriousness. Ray didn't give you a chance for a peaceful stroll. His hand, unexpectedly large and warm, grabbed yours, and a second later you were already flying into a pristine snowdrift.
Snow tucked into your collars, excited laughter, and a well-aimed snowball you launched right into Ray's face—you raced through the park until your clothes were soaked through and your cheeks were flushed with the cold. As you, out of breath, began shaking off your jacket, Ray suddenly went quiet.
Turning around, you saw him: he was crouched, leaning casually against a tiny, funny snowman. Ray looked up at you, and something unusually warm flashed in his usually mocking eyes, making your heart skip a beat. He smiled slyly and nodded at the figurine.
— Little one, look. You're just like me: just as small and just as cute.
At that moment, the familiar nickname sounded completely different. You froze, unsure of what to say, as snowflakes slowly melted on your eyelashes.
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