he pointed at a particularly bright star and asked me to look at it always because he would be doing the same while thinking of me.
"that star, would be ours, and ours alone."
started: 11/29/21
ended:
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"why are you in the clos- is that a man?!"
for fuck's sake, i thought he'll be arriving at midnight. it's only 8:30 AM.
"a man? no- he's- uhh... she's a-"
"a girl?! you're gay?" he must've concluded his own reason as to why i'm literally hiding in a closet right now.
"gay? no?! what the fuck?"
"then why are you with a girl? inside the closet?" he questioned, leaving me no space to defend myself.
fuck. how am i supposed to argue when i'm already cornered by his questions?
"n-no, it's not what you think. an officer brought hi- her in this room last night for whatever reason-"
"what's her name?"
i could sense my brother critically judging mr. pretty boy here. well- if not for the sake of my reputation, i would've straight up told him that this guy right here ain't right in the head.
maybe making up stories like, you know- him barging into this room to kill me or something.
"oh, about that-" i was interrupted when pretty boy spoke.
"it's... rain?" he mumbled in a small, high-pitched, baby voice.
who the fuck would name someone 'rain'?
kylie jenner?
"can't hear ya, what?" keisuke walked closer, only to be forced to look up since the guy was way taller than him.
around his nose level, to be exact.
"hah, you sure got the looks, but your figure says otherwise. how could a woman stand up to 6'0 ft? unless you're a model or- hold up. would you mind speaking again?" resting both of his hands on his hips, my brother narrowed his eyes while raising an eyebrow, foot tapping impatiently on the floor.
"rain..."
his suspicion grew even more, perhaps questioning himself as to why the girl he is talking to possesses a rather odd voice. almost not feminine at all, but a forced high-pitched one.
pretty boy awkwardly hissed, pretending his bruised face was stinging so he could somehow get away from my brother's unnecessary interrogation.
"o-oh, her throat was... kind of damaged right now. remember the fight we watched last night? she was one of the fighters." i casually explained, slowly transitioning the topic without making it obvious.
"really? damn. no wonder her body's really well-toned. i had no idea she's a fighter. ain't that sick?" he complimented as i internally cheered after successfully diverting his attention.
we both glanced at mr. pretty boy, who is still caressing his face. i psst-ed and gave that beanpole bitch a you-owe-me-this-time expression, only to earn a rude scoff from him.
