Chapter Eight: Lines That Blur
Ethan wasn't looking for signs.
But they were there—quiet, subtle, and impossible to ignore.
He first noticed it when Leo stopped teasing Alina the way he used to. His jokes were gentler now, his sarcasm softer, almost like he was afraid of hurting her. And Alina? She smiled differently when Leo was around. Not just a polite smile, but that quiet, real one Ethan remembered from when she used to draw cartoon hearts on her notebooks and hum Taylor Swift under her breath.
One evening, Ethan walked into the kitchen to grab a drink and paused.
Leo was helping Alina with something on her laptop. They were close—shoulders touching, laughing softly. She nudged him playfully, and he brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Neither of them noticed Ethan standing there.
And in that moment, something shifted.
Later that night, when Leo stepped outside to take a call, Ethan joined him on the porch. They leaned against the railing in silence for a few minutes, listening to the city hum around them.
"I saw the way you look at her," Ethan said finally.
Leo stiffened. "Ethan—"
"I'm not mad," he said, cutting him off. "Not yet, anyway."
Leo turned to him. "I didn't plan this. I swear. It just… happened. I tried to ignore it, but she's not a little girl anymore."
Ethan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I know."
A long pause.
"Just promise me something," he said.
"Anything."
"Don't break her. She's been through enough."
Leo nodded, his voice serious now. "I won't. I care about her, Ethan. Way more than I should."
Ethan looked at him, then out at the dark sky.
"Then do it right."
He walked back inside, heart heavy—not with anger, but with the weight of letting go. His little sister wasn't so little anymore. And his best friend might just be the one person crazy enough to love her the way she deserved.