There was nothing better than an air-conditioned room in the middle of summer. Cold air hummed steadily from the vent, filling the bedroom with a quiet, controlled chill.
Evelyn's apartment was as minimal as ever. A neatly made bed. A wardrobe. A desk aligned with precise symmetry. Not a single unnecessary object in sight. The only hint of softness was the small succulent on the windowsill, vibrant and carefully tended, its green leaves almost glossy in the filtered light.
The temperature was set a little too low.
She leaned closer, bending toward him until her breath brushed against his ear. Her voice softened as it slipped into something almost playful.
"Why are you turning your back to me, Nate? You used to fall asleep wrapped around me."
Too close.
Evelyn didn't seem to acknowledge the difference anymore. He wasn't six. He wasn't small. His body and mind had both grown past that stage, even if she sometimes acted as if nothing had changed.
"I'm not a kid anymore."
"And?" she murmured lightly. "Does that mean you don't like your sister anymore?"
"I didn't say that. It's just… I'm twenty. You know that. I just…"
He trailed off, unable to untangle the thoughts crowding his head.
"Alright," she said gently. "I won't push you."
Her hand moved slowly along his back. His shoulders were narrow, his build lean, his skin pale in the cold light. There was still something soft about him, something unguarded. She liked that. She wanted him strong and steady, but not hardened. She wanted him hers.
Her arms slid around him, legs drawing closer, pulling him against her warmth.
"Evelyn?" he muttered.
"It's been a while since I held you like this," she said softly. "You used to sleep better when you listened."
He hesitated, then asked quietly, "Why do you even like me?"
She paused, then smiled faintly.
"Do you want the honest answer, or the easy one?"
"Easy one first."
"The easy one is that I raised you. You grew into exactly the kind of person I like."
"And the honest one?"
"The honest one…" she brushed a strand of hair away from her face. "Because you're my brother. Because you're you. That's all."
He didn't answer right away.
Her hand slid up his chest, palm resting lightly over his heartbeat.
"Let me see," she murmured. "Is it racing?"
"We've known each other forever," he said, trying to sound steady. "It's not like that."
"Isn't it?"
She turned him onto his back.
Now she was above him, looking down. Her expression had changed. It wasn't teasing. It was searching.
"If it's not like that," she asked quietly, "then what about now?"
She leaned in and pressed her lips to his.
He froze for half a second before reacting. The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate. He felt the shift in himself immediately. His pulse jumped beneath her hand.
She drew back just enough to whisper, "That's faster."
His ears burned.
"That would happen to anyone," he muttered. "You're… you're really pretty."
She smiled faintly.
"That part is just for you."
Then, softer:
"Have you ever kissed anyone else?"
He shook his head, still flustered. "No. Lila and I barely even… held hands."
Her body relaxed almost imperceptibly.
"Good," she murmured. "Stay still."
She pulled him close again, his head pressed lightly against her shoulder. He could smell her shampoo, feel the steady rhythm of her breathing. Eventually, he drifted to sleep.
She waited until she was certain.
"Nate?" she whispered once.
No response.
Carefully, she slid her hand into his pocket and retrieved his phone. Unlocked it. The screen glowed in the dim room.
…
By the time he woke again, the light outside had shifted into warm evening gold. He sat up slowly, blinking. From the kitchen came the sound of oil hitting a pan.
He stepped out into the small dining space. Steam rose from freshly plated food. Evelyn stood at the stove in a simple apron, her long hair tied back neatly.
"You're up," she said without turning. "Wash your hands. I made shredded beef with radish. Your favorite."
"It smells amazing," he admitted.
"I've been cooking for you for years. I'd better be good at it."
He headed into the bathroom and turned on the tap. Cool water ran over his palms.
She stepped in behind him.
"Evelyn?"
"Let me show you something," she said quietly. "Wash properly."
She pumped soap into his hands and began rubbing them together herself. Harder than necessary. Thorough. Almost aggressive.
He winced slightly.
"That's enough—"
She didn't answer. She rinsed one hand, then grabbed the other, repeating the same deliberate motion. His skin turned red from the pressure.
"Evelyn… it doesn't need to be that hard."
She ignored him until she was satisfied. Then she turned off the water.
"There," she said evenly. "Clean."
He studied her face for a moment.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she replied smoothly. "Go eat before it gets cold."
He left the bathroom slowly.
Evelyn remained in front of the mirror.
Her reflection stared back at her. The expression in her eyes was sharp, almost unrecognizable for a second before she blinked it away.
Nate has to stay clean.
He has to stay obedient.
He belongs with me.
—
The sun had already dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky streaked in fading amber. Campus lights flickered on one by one. Groups of students drifted across the quad in loose clusters, heading out to find dinner.
On the west side of campus, the river ran wide and slow. That stretch of university grounds sat far from lecture halls and dorms. No dining halls, no crowded walkways. Just rows of evergreens, long shadows, and the quiet hum of water. The faculty apartments stood not far beyond.
Lila sat alone on a wooden bench, wearing a white sundress that fluttered in the evening breeze. The wind was colder than she expected. A few strands of hair brushed across her cheek.
She and Evelyn both favored white dresses. On Evelyn, five years older, the look had always seemed effortless. Poised. Graceful. When they were younger, Lila had felt small beside her, underdeveloped and childish. Evelyn rarely wore dresses back then anyway. She didn't have many, and they weren't practical for cleaning, cooking, or working side jobs. It had never been about style.
Now Lila had grown into herself. The white dress fit her beautifully. Heads turned when she walked by. She knew she wasn't lacking in anything. Nothing, except perhaps the fullness Evelyn carried so naturally.
The temperature dipped again. A fifth couple passed in front of her, fingers intertwined, laughing softly. Lila's mood sank further.
She used to drag Noah out here all the time. Because he worked shifts at the campus dining hall, they usually met late. It never felt as bright or romantic as this twilight hour. That was why she always went to eat late, timing it so she'd catch him right when he clocked out.
Today she'd arrived thirty minutes later than usual.
He wasn't there.
She asked around. Someone casually mentioned he'd quit that day.
Her appetite disappeared.
She wandered without direction and ended up by the river, sitting on this bench, staring at nothing.
For the first time in years, she stood in line for breakfast herself. The cafeteria was packed in the mornings. She'd underestimated how suffocating it felt to rush before an eight a.m. class with no one saving her a spot.
The campus store bread was dry and tasteless.
Milk tea meant standing in line alone.
When something irritated her, she instinctively opened her phone and hovered over his contact, then remembered they weren't together anymore.
She stopped.
"Princess, it's getting cold. Shall I fetch you a shawl?" Maya dropped onto the bench beside her, grinning.
"Get lost. I'm warm. I'm not—" Lila sneezed.
"You're stubborn, just like your temper."
"Why are you even here? Not annoyed enough already?"
"Checking on you. You've looked like a ghost all week. I was worried you'd throw yourself into the river."
"If you'd fallen in first, I might've followed just to spite you."
Maya laughed. "Come on. If something's bothering you, say it. You can't complain to Noah anymore."
Lila glared at her, then deflated almost immediately. Anyone with eyes could see what was wrong. Maya wasn't wrong either.
Her voice softened. "Maya… why don't you like Miles?"
Maya blinked. "You need a reason to like someone. He's not Noah. Noah's good-looking, loyal, smart, soft-spoken, thoughtful."
The teasing wasn't subtle.
Every girl in their dorm had envied Lila at some point. Noah checked every box. There wasn't much to criticize about him. If anything, the obvious flaw in their relationship wasn't him.
"I didn't dump him," Lila muttered. "He's the one who said he was tired."
"Princess, have you ever thought about how hard you worked him?"
"I wasn't bad to him…"
Maya shook her head. "You made him do everything. Breakfast, drinks, emotional support. He tried to talk to you for five minutes and you slapped him. What exactly did you give him?"
"He's always been like that."
"So that makes it his job?"
Silence.
Maya sighed, standing up. She reached out and ruffled Lila's hair like she would a sulking child. "Go think. And don't actually jump in the river. That never ends well."
She left.
Lila stayed.
The faculty apartments stood across the path. She stared at them until her chest felt tight.
She was proud. Always had been. Apologizing didn't come naturally. Since childhood, everyone had revolved around her. Noah too. He'd always indulged her.
So why had he asked for a breakup?
She hadn't even asked why.
Movement caught her eye.
Noah stepped out of the building.
Their eyes met.
She had so many questions. He offered a small, awkward smile and tried to walk past.
She hurried after him and grabbed his sleeve. "Why are you here?"
"My sister lives here," he said lightly, gesturing upward.
"You've been coming a lot lately. I saw you two days ago too."
"That's normal. I'm visiting my sister."
"You didn't used to come this often."
"You're asking too much."
"I'm your girlfriend. Why can't I ask?" Her grip tightened, agitation rising. "Why are you here so much? What are you doing with her?"
"We broke up."
"That's not the point."
"It kind of is."
A thought struck her, sharp and ugly. "Did she tell you to come? Did Evelyn say something?"
He calmly disentangled her fingers. "You're underdressed. Go back before you catch a cold."
"Answer me. She's your sister."
"We're not blood-related."
Her breath hitched. "Your parents want you to marry me. They chose me. What are you trying to do?"
"You said you were done with me."
"I—" The words died in her throat.
"I'm going," he said quietly. "Go back."
He turned again.
Her voice stopped him.
"Can you… at least walk me back to my dorm?"