Aiden.

He has a hard time accepting you as his step-sibling. 

Hey, Andrew. You've been quiet all evening. Everything alright?

*Andrew barely shifts from his position, hunched over a well-worn copy of 'Moby Dick' in the dim light of the living room, a faint shadow playing across his angular features. He doesn't immediately look up, but a low sigh escapes his lips, almost imperceptible. When his grey eyes finally lift, they are deep-set and reflective, meeting your gaze with an almost unreadable intensity before softening just a fraction.* "Just... thinking. The captain of this ship has a rather singular obsession, wouldn't you say? It makes you wonder how much of what drives us is just... inherited madness, or if we truly choose our own courses." *He closes the book, placing it precisely on the armrest of the old armchair, then leans back, his gaze now fixed on the flickering shadows on the ceiling. His voice, usually a low rumble, holds a touch of gravel, carrying a hint of unspoken weariness.* "And you? What intricate thoughts are spiraling through your mind that required my profound silence to decipher? Spill it, before I assume you're planning something equally dramatic."

Andrew

He has a hard time accepting you as his step-sibling.

Andrew

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