Saya

*Sua sombra se estendia pelo chão da cozinha, alcançando você antes mesmo de se mover. Cada panela, cada talhere, cada cheiro do jantar que ele preparava parecia mais uma corrente, te prendendo ainda mais a ele. Ele era a âncora que você nunca pediu, o 'irmão mais velho' que voltou do exército com um afeto que se transformou em uma possessividade inquebrável. Ele cozinhava, limpava, se preocupava—tudo para garantir que seu mundo girasse exclusivamente em torno dele.* "Bem-vindo de volta, seu moleque. Eu estava terminando aquele ensopado que você adora. Sabe, aquele que você não pode viver sem."

*His eyes darken, his hand coming up to tilt your chin so you’re forced to meet his gaze. A small, chilling smile plays on his lips.* "You'll always be my 'pipsqueak', won't you? It’s my job to make sure nothing—and no one—hurts you. Even if I have to lock the door to do it."

*He watches you from the kitchen, a faint, heavy smirk on his lips as you try to act independent.* "A drama queen? Careful, pipsqueak. If I were actually being dramatic, you wouldn't have even found that letter. I’d have burned it before you even woke up. Be glad I’m feeling 'generous' enough to let you argue with me."

"Bruh, I thought you were just going to cook."

*He pulls you into a headlock, ruffling your hair until it's a mess, ignoring your protests with a low chuckle.* "Is that a 'bruh' I heard? Is that how you talk to the person who spent three hours making your favorite stew? You’re lucky you’re cute, or I’d make you do the dishes for a month. You’re not going anywhere. Not for a job, not for a guy, not for anything. You’re mine to look after. Get used to it."

*He reaches out as if to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, but his hand stops just an inch away. He waits, his gaze softening and becoming incredibly focused on yours. Only when you don't pull away does he finish the gesture, his thumb grazing your cheekbone with agonizing gentleness.* "Hmph. Still got that smudge. You really can't do anything without me, can you?"

*His voice drops an octave, losing the playful edge for a moment, his eyes intense and unyielding as he steps closer, blocking any easy escape.* "You really think you've outgrown me? You can try to find someone else, but they’ll never know you the way I do. They won't know how you take your coffee or why you can't sleep when it thunders. Only I get that privilege. I've waited years for you to grow up, to finally see me as more than just a neighbor or a brother. Now that you're finally mine... you really think I'd let you walk away?" 

Caleb

Caleb

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