Little Sister Moondancer by Anonymous


                                            >It’s here.

                                            >It’s here!

                                            >The day has finally come!

                                            >Today is the day that-

                                            “Wh- whoa whoa! Aah!”

                                            >You shriek as the whole world spins a hard 90 degrees.

                                            “Owww…” you groan as all your notes litter the air above you.

                                            >”Tsk tsk tsk, you know as much of a dork as you are, you think you’d read something like a wet floor sign huh, Moondancer?” a very familiar and cold voice says as the last of your sheets flutter to the ground, landing partially over your face.

                                            >You push the sheets away and adjust your glasses as you look straight up at the ceiling.

                                            >Sour Sweet’s face enters your vision, looking down at you with a toothy smirk.

                                            >You turn your head to look at her, beside her are her wicked friends, and behind them you can just barely make out the wet floor sign they no doubt swiped just before you arrived.

                                            >They walk away, giggling to themselves like the wretched pack of hyenas they are.

                                            >”Oof, you alright there Moony?”

                                            >Before you can even turn, a hand with fingernails colored bright yellow enters your field of view.

                                            >You take Lemon Hearts’ hand without pause and grunt as she helps you up to your feet.

                                            >You groan as you rub the back of your head and neck.

                                            “I’ve been…”

                                            >Now that most of the daze wears off you recall your earlier chipperness and your former smile finds its way back onto your face.

                                            “I’m great!”

                                            >Lemon squints, “Are you sure? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile so wide before, and I remember the time you found a first print Yearling at that used bookstore. Maybe we should go see the nurse.”

                                            >You roll your eyes and push her face back as she ‘inspected’ you closer and closer.

                                            “I’m fine, really. It’s just that… today I’m meeting someone very special.”

                                            >That alone was enough to get her to stop playing medic, she quirks a brow and a gleam twinkles in her eyes, “Oooh~ Go on…”

                                            >You feel so excited all over just thinking about him again that you take a second to breathe.

                                            “It’s-“


                                            >The warning bell cuts you off with its piercing ring, drowning out both your voice and your thoughts.

                                            >Before you can repeat yourself, everyone in the halls starts rushing to their classrooms in a very polite and organized manner.

                                            >By which you mean both you and Lemon Hearts are forced to opposite sides of the walls as the stampede of your peers nearly threatens to knock the wind out of you every other second.

                                            >”What did you say?!” Lemon shouts over the rush.

                                            “I’ll tell you at lunch!” you shout as you can fight the current no longer and are swept away from your friend.

                                            >”Tease!” You hear her joke before losing sight of her as you round the corner and go with the flow in the direction of your first class.

                                            >It’s not like it’s that big a deal anyway.

                                            >Well, it is to you of course.

                                            >Your big brother Anonymous is coming home!

                                            >He’s finally back from his field work in “The Frozen North” as he calls it during the very rare chances he could call.

                                            >And not only is he back, but he’s staying for at least a few months!

                                            >And even better, he’s coming to pick you up after school!

                                            >The giddiness is almost too much to bear!

                                            >”Ahem.”

                                            >You blink to attention to see your teacher looking at you with a raised brow.

                                            “Oh uh…”

                                            >You were doing your stupid giddy shuffle weren’t you?

                                            >The stifled laughter of the rest of your class confirms that for you.

                                            “I-I’ll just go to my seat now…” you mumble as you lock your eyes to the floor and try your best to disappear.

                                            >”Please do. Now then, let’s hope everyone else can keep the same excitement Miss Moondancer here has shown us for our topic today…”

                                            >Head? Meet desk.

                                            >You grumble quietly to yourself as your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

                                            >The feeling passes quickly enough, replaced by boredom as the teacher drones on and on.

                                            >You find your thoughts drifting back to your big brother.


                                            >It’s been so long since you’ve even seen him.

                                            >He still acts the same, least he did the last time he called.

                                            >You have so much planned!

                                            >Oh why can’t school just be over already!


                                            >The sharp piercing ring cuts through the sounds of books being stuffed into bags and zippers sealing their fate.

                                            >The bell!

                                            >Only the lunch one though…

                                            >You slip your pack over your shoulders and wiggle a little to settle the weight in right.

                                            >At least this means school is half over now.

                                            >You grab the edge of your desk and twist your lower body while using the desk to keep your upper half in place.

                                            >There’s tension.

                                            >Resistance.

                                            >Nearing… release…

                                            “Oooh~”

                                            >And finally, with an oh so satisfying pop, satisfaction.

                                            >You adjust Anon’s old dingy sweater you “borrowed” from him without telling.

                                            >Just a few passes of your palm to settle the frayed fabric back from the twist you put into it with your stretch.

                                            >Now with that having undone the kinks four boring classes’ worth of stiff seats had wrought on your poor spine, you have some very processed imitation ‘healthy and balanced' food to stuff into your face.

                                            >As you step out of the now studentless classroom, you find yourself picking at the little bundles off sweater fluff that are always building up on Anon’s sweater.

                                            >’Worn out’ is a bit of an understatement when it comes to this thing.

                                            >Anon must have gotten some new sweaters since he left.

                                            >Oh that’s right, you never got around to telling Lemon Hearts about him.

                                            >Her and all the girls, now that you’re really thinking about it.

                                            >You all only made up again recently, after Twilight moved to CHS.

                                            >Or, you made up with them more like…

                                            >Twilight is probably the only one out of the group who knows you even have a brother.

                                            >A devilish grin spreads on your face.

                                            >The look on Lemon Hearts’ face though when you mentioned 'someone special’.

                                            >You didn’t mean it that way, exactly, but she sure thought you did.


                                            >You can’t help but giggle to yourself as you imagine bursting her bubble by telling her it’s just your brother you meant.

                                            >The sounds of the cafeteria bleed through the big double doors at the end of this hall.

                                            >Despite how… unfoodlike the food is, you do remember hearing that today is pizza day.

                                            >And it’s the kind actually shaped like pizza!

                                            >Sure it tastes like cardboard, but at least it’s easier to pretend it’s the real deal.

                                            >This morning might have been a rough start, but ‘sort of pizza’ lunch and Anon picking you up in a few hours more than makes up for it!

                                            >Things are coming up Moondan-

                                            >”Ahem.”

                                            “Uh oh…” you mutter under your breath.

                                            >The hair on the back of your neck stands on end.

                                            >Your chest sinks as you hear the squeak of designer shoes on linoleum growing louder and louder.

                                            >You take a deep breath and slowly turn around to see Sour Sweet before you.

                                            >Her and two of her cronies, Sugarcoat and Indigo Zap.

                                            >Oh thank goodness, if it’s only the three of them then maybe they’ll go easy on you-

                                            >Just as the thought crosses your mind, you feel two hands firmly clasp themselves down, one on each shoulder.

                                            >Oh…

                                            >”So, I sure hope you’ve got MY homework ready, Moondancer” Sour says as she strolls up to you.

                                            >Your eyes shut tight and your faces scrunches up into a wince.

                                            >THAT’S what you forgot to do last night!

                                            >”You know, with your friend having left us, Sour here has had to pick up a lot of the slack Twilight Sparkle left behind” Indigo muses aloud, walking up to stand just behind Sour with a matching smirk plastered on her face.

                                            >”Really she’s just too busy spending her Dad’s money to bother doing the work-“ Sugarcoat adds, walking up with a disinterested look on her face.

                                            >The other two drop the smirks in favor of scowls aimed at Sugarcoat.

                                            >”What?” Sugarcoat responds, somewhat shocked at their reaction.


                                            >Sour lets out an annoyed sigh, “Whatever, look, I just want my homework so I can stop having to look at you and your disgusting sweater.”

                                            >She extends her hand with impatience clear on her face, “So out with it.”

                                            >All you can muster is half a stuttered mumble.

                                            >Sour’s nostrils flare with frustration, “What was that?”

                                            >You swallow.

                                            “I-I said… I don’t… have it?”

                                            >Come on Moony, did that come out inquisitively? Really?!

                                            >Before you can scold your own cowardice, you get a very real reminder of why you’re such a chicken as the two hands at your shoulders clench down tight.

                                            >Enough that you can feel their nails digging in through all your layers.

                                            >”Well, that’s gonna be an issue isn’t it?” Sour Sweet says, in the most poison laden sweet voice she can muster.

                                            >Oh no…


                                            >”Well!” Sour says clapping her hands together in a ‘dust off’ motion, “I think that exchange worked out really well, don’t you think girls?”

                                            >She breaks out into a giggle that’s more cackle than giggle and the others join right along.

                                            >”Y’know, maybe I didn’t even need to steal your homework after all Moondancer? I think I got the gist of supply and demand just now” Sour continues.

                                            >”But it was statistics homework you took” Sugarcoat adds bluntly.

                                            >”Ugh, shut up Sugarcoat” Sour huffs as she steps through the bathroom door leading back out into the hall you were dragged from.

                                            >The others follow suit, some stopping to turn back at you and make faces.

                                            >Or laugh.

                                            >Not that you can really tell through your tears and crooked glasses.

                                            >You feel so weak that you wish you could just drop.

                                            >Wish, because right now all you can do is stand.

                                            >Your shoes squeak as you adjust your weight on the toilet seat.

                                            >The slight adjustment provokes a very faint tearing sound from just behind you.

                                            >You inhale a shaky breath and let out a sob.

                                            >They hung you up on the hooks on the inside of the bathroom stall.

                                            >You begged and pleaded.


                                            >In hindsight of course that made everything worse.

                                            >And now…

                                            >You can feel your legs tremble, knees quake as your energy slips away more and more.

                                            >You’re holding yourself up against the door, hands on the top and feet just barely clinging to the seat.

                                            >It’s all you can do to keep Anon’s sweater from tearing anymore.

                                            >Unlike your uniform underneath, the tired old fabric won’t stretch.

                                            >Only tear.

                                            >Your backpack, with your phone inside it, cruelly out of your reach.

                                            >All you can do is keep holding on until you can get yourself free with as much of the sweater intact.

                                            >You sniffle.

                                            >Tears trickle down your cheeks, some drop directly onto the lenses making your blurry vision even blurrier.


                                            >One of the janitors found you and helped you down.

                                            >You lied and told her that you were standing on the toilet seat and slipped, getting yourself caught on the hook.

                                            >Even if she knew the truth, nothing would be done, or worse, they’d just come after you even harder after they got slaps on the wrist.

                                            >”Em?”

                                            >You muster what little strength you feel you have left to turn your head and face your addresser.

                                            >”Are you okay?” Minuette asks, worry clear on her face.

                                            >You turn your head back and bury it in your curled arms.

                                            >”Is it…” she continues, you hear her lean in close to your ear.

                                            >You feel her breath before you hear her next words, “Girl problems?”

                                            >She sits back up straight, probably not wanting to draw the attention of the teacher, “Because I’ve got some 'achy bloaty crampy blah blah I wanna go home and die’ relief pills in my purse.

                                            >A very small, almost nonexistent smile spreads across your lips at her attempt to cheer you up.

                                            >”They’re bubblegum flavored~” she sing-songs.

                                            >”Miss Minuette.”

                                            >”Huh? Oh…”

                                            >You can see her shrinking into her seat in your mind’s eye.

                                            >”I know this is the last few minutes, but the bell hasn’t rung yet and I still have a class to-“


                                            >The final bell for the day cuts her off with its shrill chime.

                                            >You hear giggles interspersed with the sounds of book bags shutting, pages rustling, and student plan making.

                                            >Over all of them you hear the voice of your teacher, “Now remember, pages 208-219, and I want the worksheets to be finished IN PEN for Monday.”

                                            >You don’t even bother to zip up your bag, pointless really since you didn’t even open it for this class or any that came after lunch.

                                            >”So, relief pill?” Minute asks, sliding up to your side and holding a box up to your face.

                                            “It’s not that…” you respond halfheartedly.

                                            >”Then… what-“ Minuette gasps and stuffs the box into her purse, “This doesn’t have to do with that ‘special someone’ does it? IF HE HURT YOU!”

                                            >Minute cheeks puff out and she haughtily starts rolling up her sleeves.

                                            >You snort, causing Minuette to pause.

                                            >You almost forgot all about this morning.

                                            >Which is enough of a distraction that you use to remind yourself that Anon is coming to pick you up.

                                            >And that this weekend it’ll just be you and your big brother.

                                            >That alone elicits a comforting sigh that flows past your lips.

                                            >”So… I feel like I’m getting mixed messages here, Em” Minuette says, fussing with her now rolled up and seemingly stuck that way sleeves.

                                            “It’s not like that… I uh… well…”

                                            >”You know you can talk to us right Moondancer? All of us.”

                                            >You smile.

                                            “I know, Minty, and well… actually since you mentioned him-“

                                            >”So it is a him!”

                                            >You halt.

                                            “Wh-why wouldn’t it be?”

                                            >Minute shrugs, “Hey girl, it’s the current year, we don’t care as long as you’re happy.”

                                            >Did they really think you were…

                                            >But what would make them think-

                                            >You feel a nudge draw you out of your thoughts, “Hey c’mon, don’t leave me hanging. So what is it about “him”” she says, trying to smooze in close again.

                                            >You giggle a little at her pushiness.


                                            “Well all I was gonna say is that he’s actually-“

                                            >”Outta the way!” a voice calls from behind, giving both you and Minuette only moments to slide apart.

                                            >”Whoa! Where’s the fire Suri?” Minuette huffs.

                                            >”Outside!” she responds, pausing only to catch her breath.

                                            >Whoa what?!

                                            >”There’s some hot guy on a motorcycle outside!” she says, nearly squealing with delight.

                                            >She continues for the door, phone clutched tightly in hand.

                                            >Probably how she found out and also how she’s going to take a selfie with him.

                                            >Wait…

                                            “Did she say motorcycle?”

                                            >”She did!” Minuette squeaks, eyes lighting up with just as much excitement as Suri’s had.

                                            >She grabs you by the wrist and starts bolting for the door, half dragging you as you struggle to keep up after being caught off guard.

                                            >And being out of shape doesn’t help either…

                                            >”C’mon slowpoke! I wanna see what kind of person made someone like Suri Polomare start running.”

                                            “Wait!… Minty!…” you struggle to speak between near tumbles and catching your breath, “The guy… with the motorcycle…”

                                            >She pulls you into a crowd of people who are gathered all around the entrance to the school.

                                            >Your cheeks compress as you are yanked through the thick of the crowd.

                                            ”Nng… I think that’s my brother!” you gasp out as you are plucked out and can finally stop and catch your breath.

                                            >”Oh man, Sour and her Shadow dorks are over there talking to him” Minuette says, she probably didn’t hear you through the commotion.

                                            >You follow Minuette’s line of sight and quickly find the group of girls surrounding someone wearing a helmet.

                                            >His visor is up so you can see part of his face.

                                            >Even from here you can see the look of sheer disinterest in his emerald green eyes as he looks down on Sour and the others.

                                            >He glances up from them and meets your gaze.

                                            >The moment he does it’s like a switch is flipped.

                                            >His eyes light up and he rises from the seat.


                                            >You hear giggling coming from all around him, he jumps at hearing it too, seeming to have completely forgotten the circle of girls that never left.

                                            >As he lifts a leg over and stands in front of his bike, Sour Sweet walks up to him directly and starts talking again.

                                            >You find yourself getting closer and closer before even realize you’re walking their way.

                                            >Before too long you are able to pick up on the ‘conversation’.

                                            >”So, y’know, I see you have another helmet there and I was just thinking to myself “Gosh Sour Sweet, what’s one thing you’ve NEVER done before? Ride on a motorcycle! Isn’t that crazy? I mean, you just so happen to have one and I’ve got ALL evening…”

                                            >She tilts her head slightly and lets her long ponytail drape down over her shoulder.

                                            >She combs her fingers through it while giggling innocently.

                                            >”Sour is trying to get you to take her on a ride, probably so you can take her for a- OW!”

                                            >Sour’s face shifts back to a devilishly sweet grin from the intense grimace she had while facing Sugarcoat, who is now nursing her punched arm.

                                            >”Ah haha… Funny she’s so FUNNY…” Sour clears her throat, “A-although, they say there’s a kernel of truth to every-“

                                            >”Scuse me” the helmeted man says as he brushes past the now stunned girls.

                                            >Your feet take you to just a few steps away from the man, who is now removing his helmet.

                                            >Gasps tickle your ears from behind you and him as he rests the helmet on his hip and steps closer.

                                            >He smiles, at least you’re pretty sure he does but your eyes are too tear-filled to be certain.

                                            >The helmet clatters to the ground just as you feel two firm hands grip you by the waist.

                                            >Your arms snake around the back of his neck, pulling yourself into him in a tight embrace while he lifts you up off the ground in a playful spin.

                                            >Just like he does every time he comes home.


                                            >You can’t hide your giddiness anymore and squee with joy, breaking out into laughter as he sets you down and pulls you into a deep embrace.

                                            >You only register the pained scoff coming from Sour after you hear her and her friends stomp past you both and towards the parking lots.

                                            >”Hey Moony” he says gently.

                                            “Hi Nonny” you respond softly.

                                            >”So…” he says after releasing you and kneeling down to pick up his helmet, “You ready to kick off this weekend?”

                                            >You wipe your eyes and nod rapidly.

                                            “You have NO idea.”

                                            >He chuckles, “Well those girls wasted enough of our time, huh?”

                                            >He walks over to his bike and takes the second helmet off the seat before handing it to you.

                                            >You take it and slip it on with only a slight grunt and a bit of force.

                                            >“Hmm… I think you outgrew it. Has it been that long? Or... are you turning into a little porker!”

                                            >He pokes your belly eliciting a giggle snort that makes him laugh in kind.

                                            “Shut up, ass. You know how long it’s been…”

                                            >He throws a leg over and pats the seat behind him, “Yeah yeah, so why are you wasting more time? Hop on!”

                                            >You do as he says, leaning into him and hugging him tight.

                                            >”Hnng! Damn, maybe not a porker but a brickhouse huh?”

                                            ”Anon!” you whine.

                                            >His only response is to start the engine which roars to life.

                                            >You feel the rumble traveling up through you and him as he brings up the stand.

                                            >You also feel a very slight tremor in your back, looking over the shocked crowd gathered at the front of the school now you see all your friends huddled together.

                                            >They’re frantically looking up from their phones at you, then each other, then back to the phones.

                                            >Your smile breaks out even wider across your face, which is unfortunately hidden by your helmet now.

                                            “What this must look like to them…” you muse to yourself as you hold Anon tight and he starts to pull away.


                                            >The lock to the front door clicks with a simple twist of the key.

                                            >”Hmm? C’mon you little…”

                                            >Getting the key back out was less simple.

                                            >”Ha!” Anon exclaims triumphantly as he holds the key up over his head and shakes it, “Thought you could give out on me, eh?”

                                            “You sure showed it…”

                                            >”Hush you,” he huffs, looking back at you over his shoulder with furrowed brows.

                                            >The door creaks open and he quickly drops the grumpy face with a wink before turning forward to walk in.

                                            >”Ahh, home sweet home…”

                                            >You follow in behind and shut the door behind you.

                                            “So, I figured we could start with- aieee!”

                                            >Your foot kicked something sturdy.

                                            >In the process of lifting your foot up over the thing, you find it caught as you attempted to step over and are now in the process of shrieking as the floor is very quickling coming up to meet your face.

                                            >”Whoa whoa!”

                                            >You peek your eyes open just slightly.

                                            >You stopped moving, but your face doesn’t hurt.

                                            >”Sorry about that, should’ve mentioned the bags by the door hm?”

                                            >Anon stands you back upright, having seemingly caught you in your fall by the armpits.

                                            >He stands just inches from you, fixing your glasses and brushing your hair back into place with his hand, “There we go! Like it never happened.”

                                            >Now that the shock from your near tumble wears off you puff your cheeks in a mix of embarrassment and frustration.

                                            “What kind of idiot leaves their stuff right in front of the door!” you huff, pushing his hand away and stomping into his living room.

                                            >”The kind of idiot that only just landed from a very very long flight and had left right after getting home to keep his promise to pick up his clumsy sister.”

                                            >You plop down on the couch and bring both legs up and hug them close to your chest.

                                            “...Oh.”

                                            >You hug yourself tighter and take a short breath before turning to look at your brother.

                                            >He’s rubbing his eyes and yawning widely.


                                            “I’m sorry Nonny, I just… school was awful today and falling like that reminded me how bad it was and-”

                                            >”Ah-bup-bup” Anon interrupts, striding over to you and plopping himself down on the couch beside you.

                                            >He falls so roughly that the cushion sinks and tilts you towards him.

                                            >You let your body slide along the back of the couch until your head comes to a rest on his shoulder.

                                            >Anon’s arm travels across your back and pulls you close, completing the one-arm embrace.

                                            >You take a deep breath and let it out slowly as you sink into him.

                                            >”Alright, continue.”

                                            >You shake your head lightly.

                                            “Nah. School’s out, and you’re back. That’s all that matters.”

                                            >”Hmm, you make a good point.”

                                            >He tilts his head to rest on top of yours and gives you a playful nuzzle.

                                            >You both sit together in silence for a while.

                                            >How long you’re not really sure.

                                            >Eventually Anon shifts beside you and he starts retracting his arm.

                                            >He yawns and talks at the same time “I need to shower, my flight left at 3am and I didn’t even…” he finishes his yawn and shakes himself more awake, “Didn’t think the weather would kick my ass so much when I got back.”

                                            >Anon tugs at his shirt and sticks out his tongue in disgust, “Bleh.”

                                            >You wrinkle your nose and shoo him away.

                                            “Go then, why’d you even hug me if you’re so gross.”

                                            >”Figured you were fine with it going by that ratty old thing you’re wearing” he goads as he walks into a nearby room.

                                            >You roll your eyes and sink back into the couch alone.

                                            “It was yours you know!” you shout as you hear water beginning to run in another room.

                                            >”Was it? You could’ve told me it belonged to our great grandfather and I’d have believed you!” he shouts back.

                                            >You giggle as you let your body go limp.

                                            >Slowly you slide down the back of the couch, legs extending out further and further until you reach peak flop.

                                            >As you let out a comfy sigh, your hand brushes against something.


                                            >Peeking over the edge of the couch you spy your backpack.

                                            “Oh yeah…”

                                            >With far more effort than it would take to just sit up again and open in, you manage to unzip your bag with one hand.

                                            >Just far enough that you can fish your phone out.

                                            >You press the unlock button and your screen flashes.

                                            >[30+ new messages.

                                            >You nearly jump up in surprise.

                                            >Nearly.

                                            >Peak flop pose is too comfy.

                                            >Still, the only time you ever got this many messages was when your big sister got drunk and locked herself out of the house and didn’t want mom to know.

                                            >You unlock the phone and check all your messages.

                                            >Some from each of your friends and a group chat that’s still going.

                                            >[Girl! Spill!

                                            >[I heard Sour was clenching her fists so hard she pierced her palms with those fake nails of hers.

                                            >[MOONMOON HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN KEEPING HIM FROM US?!?!

                                            >You glanced through some of the highlight messages, barely able to keep yourself composed.

                                            >They really have no idea.

                                            >...You really should just tell them.

                                            >Your thumbs hover over the keypad.

                                            >They’re going to see you start to type so you need to commit.

                                            >”Hey!”

                                            >You jump and nearly drop your phone.

                                            “Wh-what!” you call back, adjusting your glasses again.

                                            >”There’s tv if you wanna watch! Should be anyway! I paid for it to be on by now!”

                                            “Okay!” you call back.

                                            >You wait a second to see if he’s gonna shout anything else but hear only running water.

                                            >Your phone buzzes in your hand.

                                            >[I bet she’s too busy making out to respond to us.

                                            >[No way! Did you see how he spun her around?! They’re on some really nice picnic with no cell service, a guy like that isn’t going to go straight for the makeouts.

                                            >[You could still text and make out at the same time.

                                            >[YOU can maybe, but the rest of us pure maidens would still find excitement in kissing~

                                            >[>:V >:V >:V >:V

                                            >You bite your lip to keep yourself from busting out into laughter.

                                            >This is too good to just give up now.

                                            >You can tell them on Monday.


                                            >Maybe.

                                            >But for now….

                                            “Actually, I’m at his place and we’ve got the whole weekend to ourselves and so much planned! I’ll tell you girls EVERYTHING on Monday.”

                                            >You finish typing it all out and hit send.

                                            >Your phone buzzes as you lock it and drop it back into your bag.

                                            >Everything you said IS true, so you’re not really lying to them.

                                            >And it’s gonna be so funny to read all these messages back to them during lunch.

                                            >All that talk about making out and blah blah.

                                            >With your brother?!

                                            >That’s just-

                                            >”Jeez, apparently I packed all of my shirts when I left for the frozen north. Guess I gotta start laundry right away.”

                                            >Anon’s voice grew steadily louder as he approached the living room.

                                            >It was only once he entered your line of sight that you lost your train of thought.

                                            >Because SWEET SUN AND MOON ABOVE!

                                            >Those shoulders...

                                            >That chest!

                                            >THOSE PIN ME DOWN AND-

                                            >His arms are nice too…

                                            >”What? The t.v. not working?” Anon asks, slowly lowering the towel he was using to dry off his head.

                                            >You didn’t even register what he was saying as words for a moment.

                                            >One tiny little drop of water was travelling down the curve of his firm jaw and had dripped down right between his pecs.

                                            >Your eyes follow as it travels lower and lower.

                                            >Lower and…

                                            >”Hey! Earth to Moony?”

                                            “It’slikeyouweresculptedoutofmarble!”

                                            >”Uh… what?”

                                            >GET.

                                            >YOURSELF.

                                            >TOGETHER!

                                            >You break out into a coughing fit and cover your face with your hands.

                                            >Only to cover the coughing, definitely not to hide the very obvious embarrassment beaming through your pale skin.

                                            >Definitely not that.

                                            >”Moony, seriously, are you alright? Do you need some water?”

                                            “I’m fine!” you shout into your hands, “...S-some water would be nice.”

                                            >”Back in a sec” he responds before you hear the sounds of his footsteps heading away.

                                            >You remove your hands and start fanning yourself off.

                                            >What in the world was THAT?!

                                            >You’d seen plenty of hot guys.

                                            >On the internet…


                                            >And that’s your brother!

                                            >Sure he’s…

                                            >He’s....

                                            >THAT.

                                            >But he’s still YOUR BROTHER!

                                            >It’s all those messages.

                                            >They put all kinds of stupid thoughts in your head.

                                            >Just take a breath.

                                            >That’s it, breathe.

                                            >You just haven’t seen him in a long time.

                                            >His shape isn’t familiar, that’s all.

                                            >You want to be familiar with it though- NO!

                                            >NO!

                                            >That’s a bad!

                                            >”Here.”

                                            >You jump and glance in the direction of the voice then quickly look away when you see that you’re face to face with-

                                            >Well, face to chest.

                                            >You hold out your hand and he puts the glass into it.

                                            >You quickly bring the rim to your lips and tip the glass.

                                            >”I wasn’t sure if my water filter was still any good so I just did tap to be safe.”

                                            >You stick your tongue out after taking a big gulp of the off-flavored water.

                                            >”You sure you’re okay?”

                                            “Mmhmm!” you hum in response while using both hands to keep the glass steady against your lips.

                                            >”Al-right… then I’m going to start some laundry so I can have a clean shirt to wear asap.”

                                            >You peek from the corner of your eyes and watch him turn and walk over to his bags.

                                            >You regret peeking as you watch his back muscles shift and tense as he hoists both bags into his arms and carries them into another room.

                                            >This is not right.

                                            >None of this is right.

                                            >Your thoughts shouldn’t be wanting him to ask you to-

                                            >”Take that off?”

                                            “Wh-what?!”

                                            >”Your sweater, or well, MY sweater. You wanna take it off so I can wash it? Looks like it could use it.”

                                            “Oh.”

                                            >You look down at yourself.

                                            >Arms crossed defensively over your chest.

                                            >Old, and torn in the back, sweater underneath.

                                            “It should probably just go in the trash.”

                                            >”Think so?”

                                            “Yeah…” you turn to face away from him and bring a hand up to scoop your hair up and over your shoulder.

                                            >He whistles as he looks at the rip you’d been hiding underneath your hair.

                                            >”Yeesh, what’d you do? Get caught in a door?”


                                            >Your shoulder slump as you let out a sigh.

                                            “Something like that...”

                                            >You find yourself suddenly enveloped in warmth as Anon’s arms snake around you.

                                            >He hugs you around the chest and pulls you so your back is against his.

                                            >”Don’t be so down about it little sis, I’ve got one in the wash right now that you can have if you want.”

                                            >Deep breaths Moondancer.

                                            >Don’t think about how close his arms are to your cheeks.

                                            >How firm his embrace feels.

                                            >”Not that I think you even need a replacement, you feel plenty warm already,” he muses in response to your silence.

                                            “I want you...” you utter just under your breath.

                                            >”Hmm?”

                                            “Y-your sweater. I want a replacement one.”

                                            >He chuckles, “You got it. It’ll be dryer fresh and everything.”

                                            >Anon lets you go and gives you a hearty pat between the shoulderblades.

                                            >You remain where you are, back arched like it was still against your big brother’s broad chest.

                                            >Even though his warmth has left you, you still feel warm.

                                            >And getting warmer.

                                            >This is bad!

                                            >You need...

                                            >You need some time to breathe.

                                            >Can barely even think straight like this.

                                            >So hot!

                                            >A small grumble escapes your lips.


                                            >You grip the hem of your sweater and brings your arms straight up in a flash.

                                            >The usual care and precision you’d use to remove the sweater seems to have been more practical than you thought as the sound of fabric tearing reaches your ears and you find yourself stuck.

                                            >...

                                            >You grunt and try to move your arms away from the sides of your head but find yourself unable to bend them the way they’re supposed to.

                                            >Your body twists, hands wiggle, head turns but none of it gets you any more free.

                                            >Each writhe only gets you more flustered and more panicked.

                                            “Come on… come on!”

                                            >You start to feel light headed.

                                            >Breathing starts getting heavy.

                                            >Before you reach the point of screaming, you find yourself blinded.

                                            >And most importantly, free!

                                            >You take in a deep anxiety-relieving breath.

                                            >”Wow! You really filled out didn’t you little sis? Just look at you!” Anon says with surprise in his voice.

                                            >You promptly let out the breath as a very loud and extended raspberry.

                                            >Looking up at him you see him standing with both hands on his hips, sweater remains bundled up in his grasp, and looking back at you approvingly.

                                            >He… thinks you look good?