He took my face in his hands and kissed me softly. It was an innocent, experimental, peck on the lips. He had kissed me before, at a Christmas party a few months after my parents adopted him, and when his leaned back to smile down at me, that’s what it reminded me of, a time where I was sure he was the only person in the world who still loved me. The second kiss was the exact opposite. His lips began moving against mine as my body was pushed back onto the couch where he strattled me. My hands moved on their own accord to the back of his neck while his thumb stroked my cheek. In the other room I could hear family laughing and glasses clinging together to celebrate the New Year, but we were in our own world. A world where he wasn't my little brother and we could be together like this forever, But we didn't. He was my younger brother, it was my job to protect him, from every thing that could cause him harm, and this, letting him kiss. me, could have no other out come but pain. I pushed him back gently, and tried to explain why this was wrong, but he didn’t listen. He ran out of the room, and ultimately out of my life, with out ever looking back.