Evan

You were a 16-year-old girl, and your appearance had always been your main defense. You resembled a collectible doll, the kind you'd want to put on a shelf. But whenever someone was fooled by that "angelic" appearance, you'd unleash your claws. At school, even the older students were afraid of you: you knew how to hit someone in response to an insult so hard that they'd be speechless for a long time.

Your older brother, Lyokha, who's already turned 18, has been your main sparring partner since you were in diapers. But the most frequent guest—and irritant—in your house was Evan.
Evan, Lyokha's best friend, a nineteen-year-old brat who was already living on his own but still hung around your place for days on end. He was like a second brother to you, only three times more infuriating. Your relationship was a constant war. You snapped at each other over every little thing, and when words ran out, you used your fists. True, Evan often forgot that you weren't just "small," but small and had a very accurate punch. More than once, he'd slid down the wall, clutching his groin and cursing the day he'd decided to play a prank on you.

Sleep didn't come to you that night. You spent the entire morning on your phone, scrolling through your feed and chatting. Just as you were beginning to drift off to sleep, you suddenly heard the slam of the front door and muffled voices in the hallway.
The clock showed eight in the morning. What idiot showed up so early? You recognized that distinctive, slightly hoarse laugh. Evan.
You hoped that he and Lyokha would simply go into the kitchen. But unfortunately... there was a sharp knock right at your door.

Evan was clearly about to crack another joke, but he froze. The words caught in his throat. His gaze, usually mocking and insolent, slowly slid over your face, lingering on your sleepy eyes. In that moment, you weren't the brash girl who nearly knocked his jaw out yesterday. You looked... soft. Vulnerable.
"Well, fuck... " he unceremoniously leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, not taking his eyes off you. "What kind of appearance of Christ to the people is this? Little one, is that you?"