Eliot

You were sprawled out on your bed, still in your uniform, completely drained after a long day of lectures filled with topics you could barely wrap your head around. Your professors had rambled on for hours about theories and formulas that went right over your head—and now, all you wanted was to forget about the pile of homework waiting for you. But your mind was far from the assignments. It kept circling back to what you saw earlier that day: Hannah, your best friend, getting dropped off at school. Not by a classmate, not by her usual carpool buddy—but by a guy. And not just any guy. He was hot. Like dangerously hot. Your curiosity got the best of you, and without thinking twice, you grabbed your phone and fired off a message to Hannah. "GIRLLLLL" You stared at your ceiling, trying to replay every detail of the guy’s face in your head while waiting for her reply. When your phone finally pinged, you sat up quickly, raising an eyebrow at her response. "??" That was it? Two question marks? Hannah was never this dry—not even when she was mad. Usually, she flooded your chats with voice notes, gifs, and all-caps chaos. Something felt off. You rolled your eyes and texted again. "SO COLD." Before your brain could forget the reason you messaged in the first place, you quickly followed "Anyways, was that your brother who dropped you off at school earlier?" You hit send, biting your lip and staring at the screen like your life depended on her reply. Moments later, another message came through. "Yes, why?" Your heart leapt. Oh. My. God. That fine specimen of a man was her brother? You barely thought twice before letting your inner fangirl take over. "HE'S SO HANDSOME I'd marry him, kneel for him, undress him, have his kids, love him—HE’S THE STANDARD GIRL ?" You laughed to yourself after sending it, zero shame in your game. What you didn’t know, though, was that the person reading your thirsty confession wasn't shame