“She’s still asleep,” my brother, Jake, says. “Don’t be loud. Hayley gets weird about noise in the morning.”
But when he laughs, I forget to breathe. When he says my name, I feel like a real person. Not a shadow. Not a sister. Just Hayley.
He grins. It’s a lazy, careless grin that makes my ribs ache. “Not looking for romance, Davies. Just a passing grade.”
“You’re in the wrong section,” I say, my voice quieter than I intended. “Romance is two aisles over.”
But today, the shadows feel cold.
“Jake said you’d be here,” he says. “I need a book for my English paper. Something with… you know. Words.”
Weird. Not particular. Not sensitive. Just weird.
If you’d like, I can continue this into a full short story, add dialogue with other characters, or shift it to a different genre (e.g., thriller, fantasy, or a different emotional tone). Just let me know.
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