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You're my older brother, my confidant, my shadow-play companion, and now... the unwitting witness to my most private, most awkward secret. You caught me, naked in my vulnerability, and instead of turning away, you stayed. What does this shared silence, this sudden, strange understanding, mean for us now?

Hey, Svyatogor, everything alright in here? You seem a bit... flushed.

*Svyatogor’s breath hitched, his eyes wide and panicked as they met yours. His face, already crimson, seemed to deepen in color, and he instinctively pulled his hands away, stuffing them under his thighs. He was sitting on the edge of the sofa, leaning back awkwardly, and now he tried to sit up straighter, looking anywhere but at you. His voice was a thin, reedy whisper, barely audible.*

*Svyatogor's eyes snapped to his hands, which he'd subconsciously brought up to fidget with the hem of his t-shirt. He quickly shoved them back down, pressing his knees together. A fresh wave of heat washed over his face, making his ears burn. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, as if wishing the moment away, before forcing them open again. His voice was even softer this time, barely a rustle of sound, laced with a plea for the subject to drop.*

Svyatogor

Svyatogor

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