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Ceramic bowls and plates cluttered the kitchen. They towered in the sink until the bottom was unseeable to the naked eye. You would have to dig through piles of dirty dishes just to get a glimpse of the silver hidden away underneath. Just from a glance, you noticed the hardened bits of food stuck to the sides of bowls and glued imposingly to the plates surfaces. A weird stench came from the general area of the sink, making your nose crinkle in disgust.
Cleaning was a calming activity for you, when no one was in your way to disrupt the flow of your mind and the working of your hands.
You loved to help around the house to keep yourself busy, and to also keep the house in tip-top shape.
What you didn’t love, however, was how that seemed to warrant people to treat you like their personal maid.
Your mother slowly began to slacken in her efforts to maintain the house after seeing you take up the job so diligently, and your step-father never really helped out around the house to begin with. But neither of them would leave this big of a mess for you to clean, because while your mother slowly but surely placed the weight of the household chores on your shoulders—she at least had some class to clean up after herself.
This heaping mess was caused by one person who would do the opposite, and you knew exactly who.
Rafayel was your step-brother. His father married your mother while you both were still quite young, so that meant you witnessed the awkward stages of growing up together. Being around the other was a familiar ordeal. He took you to and from school, he stood up for you when a group of girls started being a bit too mean to you, and he played silly games to keep you both entertained. He was everything anyone could want in a brother.
Until something changed in your relationship.
You don’t know what shifted in your relationship for him to distance himself from you so coldly. It started a couple years ago, actually. His presence ever so slowly started to disappear from your everyday life. He wouldn’t walk you to school, he wouldn’t look for you in the crowd, he wouldn’t speak to you unless spoken to. Rafayel sneaked to his room after every meal, avoiding having to be around you and face your prodding questions.
During the time of it happening, you were confused. Well, of course you were. Someone you loved so dearly was avoiding you as if you were infected with something he could catch. You tried to spot him in the school halls, corner him at home, but he would sneak away before you ever got a good grasp on him. It was like trying to hold an eel with soapy hands.
Everything about the way Rafayel acted with you changed for the worse.
His kindness turned into annoyance.
His love turned into indifference.
His affection turned into disinterest.
Rafayel loved you like any brother would a sister. He had been so caring and attentive to you, especially during the initial marriage process between your parents. You were still mourning the loss of your father, and Rafayel was there for it all. The process of becoming family was a quick one. It felt like Rafayel was the only one who really understood any of your problems at the time. He held you close to his chest during the darkest moments of the night and soothed you back to sleep when it was hard to do so on your own.
So, it was safe to say that your heart cracked a little at his constant act of rejection. A piece of yourself had chipped away and you were left to fill the void by yourself.
Your step-brother had become a pillar in your life, with him gone it was like everything around you started to crumble. All the pieces began to unravel.
The girls at your school had seen your supposed protector leave your side and they immediately dived straight in at the chance to push you around. They tormented you because Rafayel wasn’t there to keep you safe anymore—they had free reign. If he had been there, you wouldn’t have to patch yourself up every couple of weeks. You wouldn’t have to walk home in the pouring rain alone. You wouldn’t have to hold yourself in the late nights. You would still have your big brother to guide you through the horrible world of high school.
But he distanced himself and left you to fend for yourself. You wondered for a long time if you had imagined all of those years together to be a figment of your imagination, all a ploy just to make yourself feel a little bit better.
He had been acting weird lately.
“Rafayel?” You called hesitantly, knocking on his door. You entered after a moment to see him sitting on his beanbag, controller nestled between his hands and his dark eyes focused intensely on the screen in front of him. “Raf’?” You repeated, eyes taking in the span of his room. It was dark, LED lights making the room glow an ethereal purple, and many posters and figurines lined the walls and bookshelves. It was a classic gamer’s bedroom.
The joystick of his controller snapped side to side. The loud sound of bullets firing from his gaming set up echoed. “What?” He asked, voice lined with an aggressive edge.
”Is everything okay?” You asked, a bit nervous for his reply. There had been an unspoken tension buzzing between the both of you, and you didn’t know how to adress it properly.
The rattling of pressing buttons and cracking the joystick filled the silence for a while. You almost wanted to speak again and repeat yourself, but you kept your mouth shut. A heaviness weighed on your chest the longer he continued to ignore you.
“Why wouldn’t it be?” He muttered. A loud curse left his lips when his character in the game died, and ran an annoyed hand down the plane of his face.
Nerves prickled under your skin as the silence consumed you in its dark tangling webs. “It’s just—we haven’t been hanging out recently.. so.. you know.”
”No,” he drawled. “I don’t know.” He stood from his seat and the beanbag rustled from his movements. Rafayel towered over you. His eyes were shadowed and tired, something foreign in his eyes when he looked down at you. It was weird. There was a squinted annoyance lurking behind his eyes and the more he seemed to be around you, the more eager he was to leave. “Can I not do shit without my annoying little sister?”
You were.. annoying?
”Oh..” You laughed, a soft sound that wasn’t strong enough to hide the hurt you felt. His eyes flashed with something akin to regret. It disappeared as fast as it came. “I see. I’m sorry, I.. I just wanted to see if you were okay..” you trailed off, swallowing thickly as he seemed to grow more annoyed with you.
”Is that all?”
”Yes, sorry.” You mumbled, backing out of his room. He was quick to shut it. As soon as the door closed, you let the tears fall. Your chest squeezed tightly, your heart wound in sorrow. The walk back to your room was a shameful one. There was a deep rooted embarrassment that clung to your conscious, wondering why you even bothered in the first place.
You were just his dumb little sister.
You were growing up now, he didn’t have time for you.
Or, that’s what you thought.
This scene was oddly familiar to you, you think. Standing in front of the plain wooden door, you simply looked at it for a long while, wondering why you were doing this again. Putting yourself in the same position you were in when you were younger. It was cruel. You were setting yourself up for failure and an onslaught of mean words.
What good would it be to talk to Rafayel?
He was the one to distanced himself away from you, and yet here you were, at his door again like a beaten dog waiting for affection. It was weird to think of yourself in such a way when all you were really doing was telling him to clean up his mess.
The heaviness in your chest didn’t let up, despite reassuring yourself that this would be a quick ordeal. It felt like a block of cement had lodged itself into your throat.
You didn’t know much about him, really. He had distanced himself so far away from you that you had forgotten every little thing about him. You didn’t know his favourite colour, what foods he didnt like. The most you knew about him was that his friends were questionable company, he played shooting games nearly every afternoon, and he had a job down at the gaming store in the nearest shopping centre.
You only knew that because you overheard your step-father congratulating him on finding a stable job.
A part of you ached—you liked to say that you didn’t care anymore. That you grew out of waiting for him to come into your room and act like you were the bestest of friends again, but logically, you knew it never would have happened. Rafayel was a stubborn bastard. There was nothing you could have done to sway him otherwise.
And, you tried. You really did try for the longest time to get him to talk to you again.
Fruitless tactics that ended all the same, your heart a little more sore than it was before and tears lining your waterline.
For a while, you blamed yourself. There was something wrong with you that he found so utterly repulsing to the point he couldn’t stand to be around you.
That’s what you believed for a year. And then, you gradually started to lose interest in seeking his company.
The girls at school got worse, you were coming home with a fresh new bruise or scrape every couple of days.
You held yourself when the nights became too lonely to endure.
You remembered a time, the first night you felt so pathetic and afraid, you had pattered your way to Rafayel’s bedroom, knocking on his door to see if he was awake. If he was, he didn’t reply. You had talked to a wooden door about how you couldn’t sleep—that you needed him.
No response.
There wasn’t even a whisper of his presence in there. After that, you retreated back to your room and cried yourself into unconsciousness. You woke up the next morning with bags under your eyes and a numb sensation blurring every nerve.
Even if he did apologise now, you don’t think you could forgive him.
You doubted that he would, anyway.
Lifting your hand, you knocked three consecutive times.
Both of your parents had gone out for a date, so it left only the two of you in the house.
”Honey, we’re leaving now. No one is allowed in the house while we’re gone, okay? Take care of your brother, see you!”
And the giggling woman left arm in arm with her husband.
They were none the wiser to the conflict that was simmering between you and your step-brother. You didn’t have the heart to tell either of them. What would they be able to do anyway? Chastise Rafayel for being a dick-head? You scoffed at the thought.
”What?” You snapped out of your daze and realised that Rafayel had responded to you.
”Can I come in?”
There was a pause. “Can you?”
That annoying basta— You opened to door and entered the room. A frown tugged on the corner of your mouth, annoyance lingering like an ever present guest. His smug expression was the first thing you noticed. It was subtle, barely noticeable unless you really looked at him.
The room was different, you noticed. The furniture had moved around, but he still kept the same purple LED lights. His beanbag was still, just like the last time you stood here, in front of his TV.
”The dishes in the sink,” you mentioned, ignoring the sarcastic drawl of his voice.
“What about them?” He sighed. His focus was centred around the game in front of him and it didn’t seem like he wanted to entertain a conversation with you—as if he ever did in the first place. The whole situation was growing more and more annoying, especially his attitude towards you.
”What about them? Do you not know how to clean up after yourself?” You took a step forward into the room, unable to ignore the smell of his cologne. The same cologne you always complimented him on. Rafayel spared you a momentary annoyed glance, before reengaging with his stupid shooting game. The shots from his character’s gun echoed in the silence, and anger was slowly simmering under the surface of your skin, waiting to be let loose.
The confusion, the disappointment, the loneliness of not having your step-brother around anymore was making its appearance. You hated it. You tried to swallow it back down and not have to face the ugly feelings.
”I can.” He snipped, rolling his eyes.
”Oh, so then you’re just a lazy fucking bastard.” His character died and his head moved to your direction. There was a chilling calm on his face, save for the slight narrow in his eyes and the curl of his top lip. “What did you think was gonna happen with all the dishes down stairs? Disappear? Oh, no,” you laughed in faux understanding. “I get it. Fairy godmother was going to come along and take the mess away, my bad!”
The sheer sarcasm in your voice, the sweltering undertone of your anger was enough for Rafayel to stand to his feet.
”Shut up.” But you were far from done.
”No, because this really has me confused.” The two of you were practically toe-to-toe now. You sneered a grin up at him. “You do nothing around the house. You’re a fucking loser who does nothing but game with his shitty little friends all day, and burden my mother and your father about everything under the sun. You’re nineteen and still don—“
Rafayel shoved his palm over your mouth, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your cheeks until you finally shut up. You glared at him, bitterness clinging to every pore of your body.
”I think I told you to shut the fuck up, didn’t I?” Looking down at you, so defiant and angry, it was so bad for him. He should let you go and tell you to leave, before he loses himself. “You don’t ever stop talking. All you do is talk with your little girlfriends on the phone,” he leaned in close, noses almost brushing. Rafayel could feel the warmth of his breath on the back of his hand. “Complain and whine like a little bitch,” that hurt. “It's always about you. Oh, look at me, I’m [name].” He mocked.
You slapped away his hand and breathed heavily. “Why are you such an asshole for? Being a lazy incompetent loser is one thing, Rafayel, But being an asshole on top of that is just adding to a long list of things that are wrong with you.”
Anger radiated off of him in waves, you could feel it—smell it. It was ashy, it reeked with danger. It was everything wrong. For a moment you wondered if you went too far, but you disregarded that as your own anger seemed to react to his—flaring up in challenge.
”Oh really?” He laughed, it was a cruel sound. It didn’t hold the joy a laugh was supposed to have. And his eyes were mean, they assessed you in all the wrong ways. Dark depths of mystery, clouded with critical judgement and annoyance that felt like it could burn. “Do tell, little sister, what this list of issues are.”
A snarky grin was what he got in response. “Let’s start with your lack of self-awareness.” His eyes darken dangerously. “Maybe how you expect me to clean up after your messes like your personal maid, or how you never contribute to this house, you leech off of my mothers money like a homeless piece of shit and yet you wanna ask me what the list is?” Your eyes burned with rage. You stepped closer, bringing your chests together in a light graze. His breath was warm on your cheek. His chest heaved up and down as if he had ran a marathon. “You’re pathetic.” You spat.
The shared eye contact was intense, boiling with something hot and malicious, but you refused to back down.
”Are you mad because I stopped playing best-friend with you?” Your eyes narrowed at his haughty remark. His fingers locked around your chin and tilted your head up. He was dangerously close, you realised. Too close for a heated argument. “Are you sad that your big brother lost interest in a loser like you?”
”Are you serious?” You laughed, and his eyes tracked your parted lips. “That’s what you take from this?”
”Look,” he stepped away, bringing a much needed relief to you through the distance he created. “I was going to clean them up later.”
He’s trying to avoid the topic.
You could see the aversion swimming in his nasty eyes.
”You distanced yourself,” and he wanted to blame your anger for a longing for him? “You pushed yourself away on a random Tuesday afternoon.”
The sigh that fell from his lips felt like a dagger to your chest. “Can I not just stay away from you? What do you want from me, [name]. Brothers and sisters never get along. I got busy with other things.”
”It’s always just being busy with you, isn’t it?” You swarmed his personal space again and shoved a finger into his chest. He glared at it offensively. “Can’t ever just admit that you were being an asshole.”
”Oh give it—“
”No!” He paused, looking down at your face with an unreadable expression. You were breathing heavily, face flushed an angry red, brows pinched together, and eyes that held such a raw, vulnerable intensity to them that it made him shut up. Finally, he stopped talking. “You left me..” your laugh was a bitter sound in his ears. “You.. you left me.”
”[Name],” he frowned.
”Shut the fuck up and let me speak.” And he did. “You left me. A random day of the week, you just decided that you were never going to be around me again. I blamed myself for so long, because I thought that something was wrong with me.” Something lodged in your throat. Traitorous tears started to blur your vision. “The first night I had a nightmare without you.. I came knocking on your door. I begged a wooden-fucking-door for a brother that refused to look at me without being repulsed with what he saw.”
”I was never repulsed with you.”
You stared at him, incredulously. Your eyes were wide, assessing, so confused. Rafayel tracked the tear that fell from your eye with rapt attention. “What?”
He stayed silent for a while, hesitancy crawling up the back of his throat. “I said, I was never repulsed by you. I acted like I was.. [name], you don’t understand..”
Tears slipped down your face as if trying to lull you into calmness, but your head was a wreck so their efforts were futile. Your heart was thrumming nervously. The light of the situation was starting to peak through cloudy skies, and you didn’t know if you were ready for it. “Make me understand,” your whisper was a surrender to the anger that once controlled you. “Because I’m tired of running around in circles.”
This was the first time you’ve truly seen Rafayel in such a conflicted state. What could be so bad for it to come to this?
A pit settled in your stomach. There was something off about this whole conversation, the way his eyes levelled on you made you feel uneasy.
”Because..” his jaw ticked.
”Because..?”
”I want you, [name].” He could see the confusion in your eyes. There was a heaviness in his chest as realisation slowly hit you. Like a hug that only got tighter, and tighter, and tighter.
”Raf—“
”I let you speak,” he interrupted. “So let me speak.” And you did, with anxiety clawing at your chest, trying to break free and run away from the heavily breathing man in front of you. “When you.. when you started to grow into your body, I.. I started to dream about you in a way a brother never should have. I was scared of my own need for you, I couldn’t do that to you, [name].” He stepped closer, and you couldn’t move away even if you wanted to. His tone grew more desperate the longer you held your silence. “It’s not right, I know.. I had to distance myself.” He cupped your face. “I thought that if I stopped being around you, it would make my feelings go away. But all I wanted to do was have you in my lap.. fucking ruining you.”
Your breath hitched. Horror painted across the plane of your glassy eyes. “Rafayel..”
”I know,” he pressed himself closer to you, eyes searching yours endlessly. “I tried to make it go away, [name], I really did try. Nothing could make it go away. That night when you came to me, begging for me to put you back to sleep—I couldn’t bring myself to. Because it was the worst then. If I held you too close, if you moved just a bit too much.. I.. I’m so sorry.”
It was then you realised the two of you shared the same spillage of tears.
You stepped away.
Rafayel straightened in alarm. “[name]..”
”Don’t..” You turned and exited his room. “Just don’t.”
Because you didn’t know what you would do if he hadn’t stopped.
It had been a week since that encounter with Rafayel. You had avoided him at all costs after his confession. It was.. you didn’t know how to feel. For the whole week you had been on auto-pilot. Your mother had noticed and brought it up over dinner, but you brushed it off and left the table. Rafayel watched your every move.
From not paying any mind to you, to watching your every move, it was an understatement to say you were drowning in your own inner conflict.
You avoided looking at him, being in the same room as him, and merely just looking at him.
Which, was hard, considering he decided that now he wanted to be in your vicinity. Everywhere you looked, Rafayel was there.
It was like he was waiting for something. What he was waiting for? You didn’t know. You didn’t want to know.
His confession had left you in a stupor. It, to be put bluntly, disgusted you. Well, you weren’t sure. You were feeling a lot of confusing things right now, and Rafayel’s irrational decision to place himself in the most inconvenient places was not helping whatever was going on inside of your head.
Rafayel was attractive, you’ve known this. You would have every friend and random people at school tell you about how utterly attractive your step-brother was.
But you have never looked at him and thought of him in the way he thought of you.
You remember his eyes when he told you about his infatuation with you. So desperate. Searching for something in your eyes. You didn’t know what he was searching for, but you guessed he didn’t find it with the way his lips twitched downwards. Was it acceptance that he was looking for? Did he expect you to take him in your arms and let the past melt away like an ice cream on a hot summers day?
Everything told you to keep your reservations, but another, smaller, much more annoying part of you longed for a connection with your brother. He wasn’t your blood, but it felt like it to you. To find out that he looked at you in such a desirable way made your heart sink to the acidic depths of your stomach.
Soap bubbled eagerly against the skin on your face, and your hands worked diligently to scrub away the lingering presence of the day. Exhaustion clung to your consciousness no matter how many times you tried to blink it away. It was persistent in trying to drag you under inky depths of malicious waves and crashing foamy water.
Hot water splashed against your face. You held your breath for a little longer than you should have; roughly wiping away the left over face wash. For a moment you just stood there, water cascading down your neck, eyes clenched shut, breath falling short. The darkness behind your eyes was almost comforting.
The weight of the week came crashing down on your shoulders, straining your muscles, and shattering your bones.
Rafayel had been persistent in making you realise that you wouldn’t be able to get away from him, so having this small moment where you could forget about his confession felt nice—normal. It was easier to breathe when he wasn’t staring at you.
You felt safer knowing that you were confined in these walls, undisturbed.
Your hands flatten against the cool sink, breathing in through your nose and releasing it from your mouth.
Peace was something you rarely came across. It was a fleeting part of your life when Rafayel was still around to be your brother, but now it left a bitter taste in your mouth. To know he looked at you with an urge to.. you swallowed thickly. Why couldn’t anything in your life go in the right direction?
Your father had died when you were young, but you remember him clear as day. His brown hair and hazel eyes were a stark presence in your mind. He was an awfully kind man who was too good at lying for his own good. He lied about being okay. He told you and your mother not to worry about his doctor appointments. They were just check ups, he said.
Nothing to worry about, he said.
Oh what a liar he was. You think he had a heart too big, he had a mentality that if he was okay, his family was okay.
He was taken from you too young, and your mother moved on far too quickly.
Four months after the funeral, she had met someone. The man was kind, but you were a bitter child. He attempted to connect with you, and your mother had snapped at you for not wanting the same. “He is making an effort to be kind to you.” Only, you didn’t want his kindness. You didn’t want him to suck up to you for your approval.
All you had wanted then was for your father to come back.
You had resented them both for a time. A bitter little girl who missed the warmth of her father’s hugs. No one could replace him. Absolutely no one. The role of your father was reserved for a ghost, not for a man that tried too hard in the eyes of your mother.
Then they had brought Rafayel into the picture. Your mother told you it was time to meet his son, you didn’t want to. Your mother dressed you up in the prettiest outfit from your closet, styled your hair—but you felt like a fake. A shell. No amount of pretty clothes and exquisite hair styles could cover up the hollowness in your eyes. Your eyes had a misty sheen, no life on your expression as you stood in front of Rafayel.
He was one year older than you. His hair was cleanly styled and he wore freshly ironed clothes. It was almost laughable to see two young children be so dressed up only to meet each other.
Your step father stood eagerly behind Rafayel and nudged him forward. Rafayel, at the time, was so nervous. He couldn’t look at you for more than five seconds. On the other hand, you stared at him straight on. You assessed your step-brother with a keen eye, judging his purple hair and his flushed cheeks. Him and his father looked nothing alike—so you supposed he got his looks from his mother.
Time went on and it was as if your mother had washed away every reminder of her late husband. You hated her for that. How could she move on so quickly and paint this picture-perfect family when there was an imposter in your father’s place?
Rafayel noticed your distance. You would linger on the outskirts of family activities, watching as if you were an outsider. He had approached you one night on the porch, he sat next to you. You didn’t speak, and for a time—he didn’t either.
”Aren’t you lonely?”
His voice was so much softer then, so innocent and filled with curiosity.
”What?” You turned to him and he frowned.
”That look in your eyes.. why do you have it?”
Your eyes squint, trying to assess what he wanted from you. “Why do you care?”
He looked embarrassed. “You never join us, so, I was wondering why.”
You bristled in annoyance, standing to your feet and clutching your skirts. “It’s none of your business.”
You left him on the porch that night. There was an alarming anger that burst in your chest from his prodding questions. Why did he care? He didn’t. He was just a curious child wondering why this girl hated any interaction with the new additions of her family.
It took a long time of an annoying little Rafayel sticking to your side and forcing his presence into your everyday life before you opened up to him.
He had listened to you as you spoke of your late father, about how your mother had moved on so quickly. He frowned a little when you told him that you didn’t like them for imposing on your family like they had. Invaders, you had called them. Invading your family and forcing unnatural change.
After your father, you believed it would just be you and your mother.
Rafayel held you close to his chest that night. He told you he loved you, and that you could always count on him.
Just like your father, Rafayel had lied to you.
Because you couldn’t count on him. The night he distanced himself from you, you had a nightmare like no other. It was horrible, it left you writhing in your sheets and wetting your flushed skin with salty tears. You sought him out and he ignored you for his own selfish reasons.
The door rattled and your body stiffened. You were brought out of your relatively peaceful moment and glared at the door. The door that led to Rafayel’s room. He waltzed in and you immediately looked away. Anger, bitterness, resentment, it all started to build—just like when you were younger.
“[Name],” he lingered in the doorframe, looking at you, from the annoyance in your eyes to the water that trickled down your neck.
”What?” You snapped, hands tightening around the bowl of the sink.
With every passing second, you wanted to leave. You didn’t want to stand under his far too curious gaze. You didn’t want to look at his own growing annoyance. You know Rafayel, and you know that he doesn’t appreciate being ignored for so long. He could do it to other people, it seemed, but he couldn’t handle experiencing it himself. What a hypocrite.
”Can we talk?” You didn’t want to.
”What’s there to talk about?” You deflected. The last thing you wanted to talk about was how your step-brother wanted to fuck you.
”Let me talk, yeah?” He walked to you, pressing your stomach into the sink. His warmth was invasive, your breath caught in your throat. You could feel the ridges of his stomach and the contours of his shape against you.
Your eyes glared at him through the mirror, but he seemed more than content to be where he was. Of course he would, you thought, he would love any chance to be this close to you. To feel the curve of your ass pressed snugly against his crotch like the disgusting pervert he was.
”Make it quick.” It wasn’t like you were in a position to make demands, and by the look in his eyes, he knew that too.
Rafayel gripped the sink on either side of you, caging you in and suffocating you with his scent. That stupid cologne, you regret ever complimenting him on it.
”You know I’m sorry, right?” His words were mumbled right by your ear. You felt sick to your stomach, being this close to him. “I can’t control the way I feel about you, [Name], please.” He nosed your cheek, and you moved away—as far as you could being trapped in his arms. “I’m sorry, yeah? Please, just forgive me.”
Your jaw clenched tightly, grinding your teeth together. “Get off me.”
“[Name],” he said your name like a warning, as if he were talking to a child. It only enraged you further.
”Rafayel, I won’t repeat myself.”
He must have heard the bubbling anger in your voice because he backed away.
With his suffocating presence further away from you, it felt like you could breathe again.
Your knuckles were white with how hard you gripped the sink.
Turning around, you pinned Rafayel with a sharp look. “You’re disgusting, and selfish, and a stupid fucking freak.”
”I know,” he mumbled, staring intensely at you, flickering down to your lips. Something about you being so angry with him aroused him.
You saw right through him. Of course you did. Your face coiled up in disgust. Stepping close to him, you stared into his eyes. He stared back. There was a moment of consuming silence before a loud SMACK echoed within the walls of the bathroom.
Rafayel’s face twisted to the side, mouth agape and eyes blown wide.
You breathed heavily, taking a step back, almost like you couldn’t believe what you had done. “You have lost yourself, Rafayel. I don’t know who you are anymore.”
Guilt mixed with anger. He kept silent, slowly turning his head back to you. There was no remorse for what you did, even if it was out of anger. It simmered down to annoyance, and he watched you look away to calm your breathing. You really were disgusted with him, weren’t you?
”I’m still me.” He insisted softly, like he was begging for you to see reason. But what reason was there? This was all so incredibly wrong.
”And I wish I could believe you.” It was now that he could see the tears in your eyes. His gaze lowered in regret. “The day you left was the day you changed.”
”I never left, I was still here.”
Anger burned behind your eyes at his ignorance. “You were never here, don’t you understand? If you were actually present, you wouldn’t have left me to walk to and from school. You wouldn’t let those girls bully me and shove me around,” his eyes snapped to yours at the revelation. “You wouldn’t leave me when I needed you the most.”
“[Na—“
”I wish you stayed gone.” You walked to the door that connected to your room. A part of him didn’t want to let you leave. His heart ached at your words. “Maybe then I wouldn’t be burdened with the knowledge of your.. feelings.”
He watched the door, even as it closed. The soft click of the lock snapped him out of it and he walked back to his room with bitterness in his chest.
Dressed in a loose nightgown, you sat on the edge of your bed with your face in your hands.
That confrontation had left you far more exhausted than before.
You hated him. You really did. He was selfish. Why was it that he couldn’t take your feelings into consideration?
Rafayel would more than likely try and talk to you later, and you didn’t want any of it.
You straightened yourself and rummaged through your bedside table, picking out a container of melatonin gummies. You picked out one, then another, and put them in your mouth. After you swallowed them, you placed the bottle back and laid flat against your bed, awaiting the inevitable sleep to come.
A couple minutes go by and your eyes slowly start to grow heavier and heavier. You didn’t fight the sleep that swarmed your consciousness. You let your eyes fall shut, you let yourself be consumed by darkness, you let yourself be consumed.
Rafayel sat on the edge of his bed with furrowed brows. Sleep was no where to be seen, his mind was acutely aware of everything around him and his mind would not rest. His thoughts were consumed by you. All you, always you.
Your anger, your bitterness, your disgust. He hated to admit that he was turned on by it. The tent in his pants evidence of such.
If you saw him now, you would be horrified—disgusted with him beyond redemption, and he would love it.
He palmed himself roughly, groaning at the friction he brought to his aching cock. He needed you, Rafayel needed you more than he had ever needed anything else. He didn’t care if you wanted it anymore. All he cared about was relieving all fo this.
The walk to your room was a quick one, since h knew the bathroom door was locked he would have to go through the other one. He had to be quiet so he didn’t alert either of your parents or you. The anticipation of having you in his hands had his cock twitching in his boxers.
Rafayel slipped into your room and closed it gently behind him. You were laid on your side, back facing the door and, in turn, him. You were asleep, that much he could tell. He walked stealthily over to your bed and sat down on the edge. It wasn’t enough to wake you.
”[Name]?” He gently touched your arm, but you didn’t budge. He sighed softly. “Look, I’m sorry, yeah? I don’t know what else I’m supposed to say. I know that my feelings for you are wrong, and you have the right to be disgusted with me.. but.. please, just, talk to me. I can make this right again.”
When he looked at you, you were still on your side.
“Don’t ignore me, please.” His eyes trailed down to your thighs, exposed by the nightgown you wore, then to the back of your head. Annoyance started to build the longer the silence drawled on. Surely you were awake, you couldn’t be ignoring him, right?
Rafayel moved you to lay on your back, gently moving the strap of your gown down your arm. You were completely knocked out, unnaturally so. He knew you to be a light sleeper. The opening of your door would have been enough to wake you. But to touch you and move you?
Your nightstand came into his view, more so the draw. He knew you had gummies that made you go to sleep, out like a light until morning. Rafayel also knew that you would have taken them to avoid him. To avoid whatever confrontation that would have happened tonight.
Something in his chest started to sizzle. It was hot, it flooded his system. Annoyance, anger, whatever you wanted to call it.
How dare you? He was trying his best to make it up to you for his confession, for making you uncomfortable. He could handle everything you had given him so far, but this? This was tipping him over the edge and he was dancing on a very thin line.
But, his eyes darkened as he roamed over your figure. Over your delicious curves. You were a little bigger than the girls that used to be at your school, but he found himself infatuated with your curves and the extra plumpness nonetheless.
Rafayel wasn’t able to stop his curious hands even if he wanted to. This was a perfect chance, maybe the only chance he had.
The softness of your thighs nearly made him groan. They were so soft, so easily mouldable in his hands. He crawled closer to you, parted your thighs and slotted himself in between. Your figure was one to be worshipped, he thought. Your tits, nearly spilling out of your gown, it was like you wanted him to do this to you. You did, didn’t you?
His hands lifted your nightgown to reveal your lacy black panties. His breath hitched, just taking a moment to appreciate the way the fabric clung to your folds. Abandoning his previous goal, he trailed a hesitant finger over your slit. The warmth of your cunt was addicting and he had barely experienced it. Hearing your breaths more audibly now only spurred on his movements to become more confident.
The pad of his finger circled your clit. Your hips shifted and he stopped, looking up at your face to see that you were still deep asleep.
That only confirmed it all for him.
With one hand between your thighs, he reached the other up to grope your breasts. Just like the rest of you, it was warm. Rafayel felt himself growing addicted to the feeling, of you, of your skin, of having you so close to him.
His breaths were heavy. “You dirty slut,” he nosed at your neck, chest pressed to yours. Your nipples hardened and he swallowed thickly. “You’ve wanted your big brother this whole time, haven’t you? Yeah.. I bet you have.”
Gripping the hem of your nightgown, he bunched it over your hips and pulled it from the top, letting your breasts bounce free. Your nipples pebbled in the cold air, so pretty and ready to be sucked. Rafayel leaned down and did just that, he sucked on your nipples, swirling his tongue and grazing his teeth over your sensitive skin. Even as you slept, soft sounds passed by your lips.
As he let his hands roam and his mouth explore your soft breasts, he started to grind his hips against you.
He let himself rub against you harder than the initial brush, it wasn’t like you were going to wake up anyway.
You wanted to sleep the night away, so he would have his way with you. It was a fair trade.
His sweet, virgin little sister. He knew you were a virgin, he would hear you touching yourself late at night. He would sit against the bathroom door leading to your bedroom and stroke himself raw. He would always have vision-blurring orgasms those times
Leaning back on his ankles, Rafayel pulled himself free from the confinements of his sweats and boxers. His cock was already hard, aching, and ready to sink into you. What would your reaction be, he wondered, would you even wake up? He slipped your panties to the side. You were wet. Folds all sticky and shining with arousal. He knew you wanted this, and this was all the proof he needed.
”Dirty whore.” He grunted, slipping his tip between your folds and soaking himself with your slick. “How could you not want this when you’re so wet already? At least your body knows what it really wants.” He mocked lowly.
A whine slipped passed your lips when he sunk his tip in. You writhed for a moment, pained sounds causing his cock to twitch. The warmth of you sucked him in, so he did as anyone would and slipped himself in completely. Balls pressed flushed against your ass.
Fuck, you were tight. So incredibly tight. He knew you would have been. It took a moment to gather himself, to keep himself from pounding your tight little cunt with everything he had.
”You want this, yeah?” He laughed, breathless. Thrilled that he got to have you around him, finally, he got to have you. It was even better that you were none the wiser. It was sinful how your walls fluttered around him, as if responding to his words. Every ridge of your cunt squeezed him, so needy for him. If only you acted how your body acted with him.
Rafayel slowly pulled his hips back, watching intently as he sunk himself back in. It was magical, so fucking arousing. You were asleep, and your big brother was fucking into your tight little cunt. How would you feel knowing that your brother was the one to take your virginity?
His hips thrusted a little harder at his own dirty thoughts. Your whines were music to his ears and would be played on repeat for months to come. You shifted every now and then, but sleep continued to hold you captive. Hold you under while your brother took you so wantonly.
The squelches coming from your body as he pounded into you drove him absolutely insane. You were soaking the hairs at the base of his cock and he wanted you to lick it all clean like the dirty girl you were.
You felt divine. Absolutely divine.
His little sister wrapped around him so greedily, trying to milk him dry.
With a relentless pace, his cock hammered into you. Hitting you in all of the right places. You moaned, whined, and writhed. The way your face squeezed up in pleasure was enough for him to spill into you with a gasping breath.
”Fuuuck,” he buried his face into the crook of your neck, hands gripping your hips so tightly as his hips thrusted unsteadily. Hot ropes of cum coating your insides white. Painting a beautiful picture of sin and something so taboo. “My slutty little sister, all laid out for me.” He kissed your neck and continued to thrust his hips. “Dirty fucking slut.” His voice was gravelly and husky, thick with desire and a need for more.
Your body stirred, becoming tense, and he watched shamelessly as you started to come to. The rough jostles of your body and the heat between your legs was enough to wake you, even after having two of those gummies. They weren’t enough to keep you under, and you would come to wish they had.
A low moan slipped from your mouth, and confusion filled your weary eyes. You blinked, allowing your vision to clear.
Messy purple hair and lustful brown eyes stared down at you. Your heart nearly jumped out of your throat.
”What—“
”Shh,” he cooed, rubbing your clit with a gentle touch. You couldn’t stop the noises from escaping even if you wanted to. “Let your big brother have this, yeah? You’ve been teasing him for too long to keep this pretty pussy away from me.”
”Mngh.. no—Rafayel..” you protested weakly.
His hands were sure to leave bruises on your hips. A part of you crooned about how good the pain felt.
”Shut up,” he grunted, picking up his pace again. He was insatiable when it came to you. Like a dog in heat. “Or do you want our parents to hear how your big brother fucks you so good?”
You didn’t want to admit the surge of arousal that pulsed down to your clit. Unwillingly grinding back against him. His grin was triumphant and cocky.
The clap of your skin hitting against each other was a slow symphony as you started to become more and more aware of the situation.
You felt sick to your stomach but your body betrayed you in every way. Your body felt aroused, but your mind battled against everything that you believed in. You believed that that was wrong, but your body craved for him to go a little faster.
His hand wrapped around the base of your throat, starting up a brutal pace just as your body had begged for him to.
Muffling your moans as best you could, you squeezed your eyes shut to avoid looking up at him. The coil in your stomach was tightening, and it was tightening quick.
”Stop—please..” You sobbed quietly, cunt clenching around your step-brother’s cock as you came with a shattering cry. You didn’t want to feel this good, but you walls tightened around him and Rafayel came for the second time, groaning and pumping lazily into you.
Your body felt sticky and disgusting.
”Don’t lie, you’re loving this, aren’t you?” You shook your head at his words, eyes round and glassy as you stare into his predatory eyes. He has lost all sense and it both scared and aroused you at the same time.
”Rafayel, please. Just get off me.” You begged, pushing against his chest and writhing to get away from him. “I won’t tell anyone—just leave. You’ve gotten what you wanted.”
The grin on his face sent shivers down your spine. “What if I want more? I’ve got you now, little sister, and I don’t wanna let you go.” He cooed, nosing your neck before sucking and biting your flesh. You squirmed, so uncomfortable and confused. He leaned back and slipped himself out of you.
You could feel his cum leak from your quivering hole and you wanted to cry.
It wasn’t as much of a relief as you wanted to be, because he was still rock hard.
Your eyes pleaded with his, but he was merciless. He flipped you onto your stomach, and your breath caught in your throat when his tip nudged your entrance again.
You could do nothing but accept your fate when he thrusted back inside of you.
Burying your face into your arm, you let him do as he pleased. Chasing his own pleasure while your cunt squeezed him so traitorously. Lust clouded your body, and you tried to fight falling into it head first. It was so hard, especially when his cock hit all of the right places. This feeling was so unfamiliar to you, it felt so wrong yet felt so good at the same time.
His hands were on your hips, gripping you and thrusting your ass back into him with vigour. His breaths fell heavy against your shoulder and he was groaning like a feral animal. Rafayel stretched you wide, it was almost painful—no, it was painful. But the pain mixed with the pleasure and had you a whining mess and drooling.
It was too good, but it was so wrong. And, at this point, you said to hell with it. You imagined him to be someone else, to be anyone else and let yourself enjoy the feeling of being fucked into your mattress like a whore. You played the part to, soaking his dick and biting into your pillow to keep your parents from hearing. The sounds from your body’s were filthy. Squelches and obscene slaps of your skin connecting sounded loudly.
”Ah,” you could practically hear the grin on his face. His grip on your hips tightened and you groaned. “So you’re finally letting go, huh? You like when your big brother fucks you?”
Filthy fucking bastar—your thoughts were cut off by a sharp thrust that had you seeing stars. Your thighs start to tremble and every logical reasoning started to blur.
”Fuck—you!” Your gasping breaths filled the room, you tried to crawl away but his hands had you sliding back on his cock.
”You already are, sis.” He brought himself close to your ear, your panting breaths mixing with his own. His hand gripped your chin and brought your lips within range. Your eyes rolled as his lips connected with yours. A sloppy symphony of raw desire and all sorts of wrongness. There was nothing that could stop the onslaught of his hips and the pressing of his mouth against yours.
A hot chill ran down your spine, your stomach tightened just as his hips started to become erratic.
Tightening your hands around your sheets, you came with a choked sob. The pleasure poked coloured dots behind your vision and blurred every sound around you. Warmth spread in your stomach and you know Rafayel had cum too.
An ache pulsed between your legs. You disconnected your lips from Rafayel’s and dug your face into the pillow, panting hoarsely.
His hands rubbed soothing circles on your hips and manoeuvred you both into a spooning position. His sweaty body stuck to your back, making it increasingly obvious he would not be leaving. Neither did his cock slip out of you, it was nestled deep and stubborn. You tried to shift as inconspicuously as possible to slip it out of you, but to no avail. Rafayel had his arms wrapped around you tightly, leaving no room to wiggle about.
”Can you leave?” You were still breathless, skin lightly humming with the orgasms you’ve just had.
”No.” and you sighed, displeased.
You needed time to gather your thoughts, because you didn’t know what to think right now.
Rafayel had come in and started to fuck you while you slept, you woke up with his cock inside of you, and now he was cockwarming you.
You blinked down at his hands as they readjusted your nightgown, covering your aching breasts and shuffling the fabric down your thighs.
Warmth spread throughout your chest, and unwillingly—your face warmed.
Even if he was being an asshole, he took enough care to cover you up.
“You know I love you, yeah?” He nosed your neck, sending a chill down your spine.
You stared at the wall for a moment. “I know.”
”Forgive me?” He whispered hotly against your neck. The feeling of his fingers travelling down the plane of your stomach made your body flush. He was slowly chipping at your resolve and he knew it too. “I’ll treat you so good, sis.” He placed an open-mouthed kiss on your shoulder. “Let me.”
”We can’t,” you swallowed, trying to hold onto some dignity. “What about our parents?”
”What about them?” He thrusted shallowly into you, making you cover your mouth and whine. “They don’t have to know. It can be our little secret.”
One arm slipped between the crook of your neck to holster you across your collarbone while his other hand gripped your hip. His hips started slow, much more sensual compared to the aggression he displayed before. This pace was almost loving, like he was making love to you instead of releasing his pent-up desire.
Your body reacted to his easily, moving to connect back with him after each thrust.
It was almost soothing. His motions slow and purposeful, slapping into your ass with a newfound passion. A passion that wasn’t imposing or harsh, more so caring and kind. His hold on you felt like a gentle embrace.
Just as the pleasure was building, a knock echoed. Three.
Your eyes snapped open and stopped, but Rafayel continued his slow pace, grinning against your shoulder. “Come on, answer.”
You shot a glare over your shoulder, eyes nearly rolling when he rolled your clit between his fingers. The arm around your collarbone had moved between your legs.
”Hello?” You called out, albeit a bit hesitantly.
”Is everything okay in there?” The voice of your mother made your heart drop. “Your step-father and I heard noises.”
”Uhm..” you bit back a noise that threatened to escape. Damn him. You could feel Rafayel’s smugness. You could also feel his cock in your cunt, but that was a different story. “Everything’s fine—mgh!” You gasped.
”Honey??” Your mother sounded concerned, and you almost felt bad, but with Rafayel stimulating every part of you, it was hard to think about your concerned mother.
”S-sorry ma, I’m just.. hah.. having a rough sleep. Mm—a nightmare is.. is all. Sorry for—“ you squeezed your eyes shut as your orgasm came tumbling over you. “For worrying you!” Your voice was a pitch higher than before.
You were glad to hear the retreating footsteps.
Reaching behind you, you slapped Rafayel, you don’t know where it landed but at least it hit him. “Asshole!”
Rafayel laughed into your neck, tucking his arms around your waist. “Go to sleep, yeah? M‘gonna use this sweet little pussy all night.”
You dreaded the morning for when the pain would bombard you between your legs.