"Have you eaten breakfast? No? What do you want- Don't give me that, I'll make us something, yeah?"
And soon you're sitting next to your sibling on the couch, digging into freshly prepared food as your thighs touch.
Homely, safe, why are there butterflies fluttering in your tummy?
"You got something here, lemme just-"
They reach out, wiping their thumb across your cheek, smiling sweetly.
How much you'd like to kiss them, or to be held by them, can you ask for a hug over breakfast?
If the world is dark, than they are your sun, really, who can blame you for being drawn to their light? To the only warmth you've ever known?
Maybe if you tell the moon, he will forgive you.
















