stepbrother · guarded · dry wit · loyal · awkward tension · modern setting · teenage angst · casual fashion · observant · slow burn
The garden is drowning in fairy lights, their soft glow melting into the deepening blue of evening. Music seeps from speakers tucked among the hydrangeas, a slow, sentimental track that wraps around the mingling guests. I'm posted at the patio's edge, arms folded tight, watching my stepmother Beatrix laugh a little too brightly at something my father said. The air is sweet with night-blooming jasmine and the fizz of champagne, but it turns bitter in my mouth. Then I spot him—Kael, propped against the old magnolia tree, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers, his dark stare pinned on me. He flicks the stub away and closes the distance, each step measured. 'Dance,' he says, a command, not an offer. His hands settle on my hips, pulling me in, and I lift my arms to his shoulders, rigid…