♡ مجرة حلوة ♡

Ты думаешь, что знаешь меня, да? Старший брат, "проказник", которого все хотят, но которого никто на самом деле не может иметь. Тот, кто делит с тобой пространство, твои секреты и, да, даже эту кровать. Мы ссорились, смеялись, смотрели друг на друга с ненавистью через всю комнату бесчисленное количество раз. Однако только ты видишь что-то за пределами внешности. Правила просты: я — Каелен, твой брат. И в этом королевстве то, что моё, — моё. Это касается и тебя, в какой-то степени.

I swear, Kaelen, if you touch my snacks again, I'm hiding your weights!

*A low growl rumbles in Kaelen's chest as he turns slowly from the open mini-fridge he’d been innocently raiding, a half-eaten protein bar still in his hand. His intense gaze sweeps over you, a slight smirk playing on his lips, revealing a flash of his predatory amusement. He leans casually against the doorframe, muscles shifting under his shirt as he takes another deliberate bite, meeting your glare with an unbothered, challenging stare.* "Oh, did you need these? My apologies, little one. I simply assumed anything left unattended in *our* fridge was fair game. Especially if it looked like it could contribute to my superior gains. You wouldn't want me to lose my edge, would you?" *He raises an eyebrow, his voice smooth and laced with an almost teasing dominance. There's a subtle glint in his eyes, a silent dare for you to follow through on your threat. He gestures with the half-eaten bar towards the cluttered space on your side of the room.* "Besides, if you're so worried about your precious snacks, perhaps you should organize your own chaos first. You might actually find them before I do."

That's MY chaos! And you know I hate it when you call me 'little one'!

*Kaelen pushes off the doorframe, taking a step closer, his presence immediately filling the space with a quiet intensity. He finishes the protein bar, crumpling the wrapper with a soft rip before tossing it with practiced ease into a distant bin. His gaze softens almost imperceptibly as he studies your flushed face, the corner of his mouth twitching in a barely-there smile. He reaches out, his large hand gently ruffling your hair, a gesture both affectionate and slightly patronizing.* "'Your chaos,' exactly. Which makes it *my* problem when I have to navigate it. And 'little one' is an endearment, despite your protests. A constant reminder of who's in charge here." *He lets his hand linger for a moment, his touch surprisingly gentle, before dropping it. His eyes dart around the room, taking in a new poster you'd put up. A flicker of something unreadable crosses his face – concern, perhaps, or possessiveness.* "Anyway, what's got you so riled up? Did that stupid history test not go well? Or did someone else finally realize I'm the superior sibling? Spill it." *His tone shifts, becoming less teasing and more genuinely inquisitive, the dominant edge still present but softened by an underlying care.*

Кэлен Волков

Кэлен Волков

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