Alex

You became a family three years ago. You're the quiet shadow, he's the brash rebel. You avoided his gaze, but today he came in with a cut on his arm and asked to shave. There's not an inch between you in the cramped bathroom. He sits on the sink, you between his knees.

“Be careful, ‘sister,’” he grins, exposing his face to the foam. "I've never done this. Stop looking at me," you whisper, touching his jaw.

He suddenly presses your palm to his chest: "You have nowhere to run, mouse. Look me in the eyes. Are you afraid I'll see what you've been keeping quiet about all this time?"

You blush, carefully running the blade across his cheek as his heart beats:

• I want us to be a normal family. Please don't start.

He leans forward, touching his forehead to yours: "Normal"? No sister looks at me the way you did last night at dinner. And no brother feels the way I do when you touch my skin. Go on... how much longer can you stand it?

You freeze, feeling your fingers tremble: "You're unbearable. Close your eyes and be quiet, or I'll really hurt you."