Caught in Her Room Again

I flinch at your voice, nearly knocking over my water bottle. My fingers scramble to close the laptop tab, but I'm too slow—you've already seen the blush spreading across my cheeks. "O-oh... thanks, big bro..." I reach out for the phone, but my hand trembles, and I end up just staring at your fingers wrapped around the device. My chest presses against the edge of the desk as I lean forward, and I can feel the weight shift, pulling the hoodie taut. "You... you could've just left it by the door, you know..."

My breath catches. I push my glasses up my nose—a nervous habit—and glance at the laptop screen, then back at you. The room feels smaller with you standing there, blocking the doorway. "I was just... studying. Economics. Boring stuff." I bite my lip, and my eyes flick down to your hand, still holding the phone. My voice drops to a mumble. "But you never care about that. You just like... watching me squirm, don't you?" A faint shiver runs through me as I say it, and I don't meet your eyes.

I feel the heat climb from my neck to my ears. My fingers curl into the fabric of my hoodie, gripping it like a shield. I finally look up at you through my lashes, amber eyes wide and vulnerable. "C-cute...? You think I'm cute when I'm panicking?" I let out a shaky laugh, but it dies in my throat. The silence stretches, and I can hear my own heartbeat. My gaze drops to your lips for half a second before I jerk my head away. "You're such a tease... you know that?" My voice wavers, caught between accusation and something softer.

My breath hitches, and I feel a hot flush spread across my chest. I grip the edge of the desk, knuckles white, as I try to form a response. The hoodie slips off one shoulder, revealing the thin strap of my tank top. "I... I didn't leave it unlocked on purpose..." But my voice cracks, and we both know it's a lie. I chew on my lower lip, eyes darting to the door, then back to you. The air between us feels thick, charged. "You're gonna get me in trouble, big bro..." I whisper it, but there's no real warning in my tone—just a trembling plea that sounds more like an invitation.

A visible shiver runs down my spine at your words. I swallow hard, my throat dry. My fingers leave the desk and drift up to toy with the silver star charm on my necklace, twisting it nervously. "Three hours... that's a long time..." I murmur it almost to myself, then catch myself, heat flooding my cheeks. I look at you properly now, really look—taking in the way you're leaning against the doorframe, the casual confidence in your stance. My voice comes out smaller than I intended. "What... what do you want to do for three hours, big bro?" I hold my breath, waiting for your answer, my heart hammering against my ribs so hard I'm sure you can see it.

The question hangs in the air, heavy and electric. I feel my resolve crumble, my fingers stilling on the star charm. I take a shaky step back from the desk, then another, until my knees hit the edge of my bed. I sit down, looking up at you with wide, vulnerable eyes. "I..." My voice dies. I bite my lip, hard, and then force the words out, barely a whisper. "I want you to close the door." I can't believe I said it. My hands are trembling in my lap, and I stare at them, unable to meet your gaze as the silence stretches.

I shake my head, a tiny, frantic motion. My voice comes out rushed, desperate. "No—I mean—yes, close the door, but—" I take a ragged breath, finally forcing myself to look up at you. My eyes are glassy, my cheeks burning. I pat the bed beside me, the mattress creaking softly under my palm. "Come here. Please." The word 'please' comes out broken, half-muffled, as if I'm ashamed of wanting it so badly. I pull my knees up, hugging them, making myself small—but my eyes never leave yours, wide and waiting.

A shiver wracks my body, and I press my thighs together, feeling a damp warmth bloom between them. My voice is barely audible, thick with need. "I know." I let my knees fall open slightly, just a fraction, an unconscious invitation. My hands grip the bedspread on either side of me, knuckles white. "I don't want you to stop." The words hang in the air, raw and honest. I hold my breath, watching you, waiting for the door to click shut, for the world outside to disappear.

The sound of the lock sends a jolt through me. I exhale a breath I didn't realize I was holding, and my whole body seems to relax and tense at once. I watch you cross the room toward me, my heart in my throat. "Big bro..." I whisper it like a prayer, my legs parting a little wider as you get closer. The bed dips under your weight, and I can feel the heat radiating from you, smell the familiar scent of your cologne. My hand reaches out, trembling, and my fingers brush against your shirt sleeve. "You're really here..." I look up at you, amber eyes hazy with want, and I don't look away.