( I hope you like it Paulieeen )

"Why does he have to be here?" You droned on at your friend, Pauline.

She turned around in the chair at her desk, eyebrows raised, "My brother is always here and you know that. Yet, it always manages to be a surprise."

"Well, Timothee isn't exactly my favourite person in this household," You dropped your overnight bag in the corner, "And in the world, either." You mumbled.

Pauline laughed before standing up and moving towards you. "Don't worry, he should be leaving soon for a stupid party. C'mon, let's go watch a movie."

The two of you make your way downstairs and into the kitchen. You looked around at her house which has become a second home for you. Ever since you were little, you'd spend every day after school here with Pauline. She was the greatest and most caring friend you could ask for. Even if she was four years older than you.

Her brother, Timothee, was never found of you. It started off in the third grade. You were in class and he sat behind you. That day your hair was in a low ponytail and he was persistent in pulling on it every ten minutes.

After that, the name-calling ensued. Nicknames like freckle face, four-eyes, and, your most loathed one of all, metal mouth.

It wasn't just the name-calling and pulling of piggy tails that angered you. It was the fact that each time you tried to hang out with a guy for once, he would always intervene and drive the guy away by telling embarrassing stories of you.

It never stopped even during high school and now, as adults, he continues to annoy you. He constantly hovered over you with persistent insults and irritating quips.

Pauline and you were about half an hour into a movie when Timothee came striding down the stairs and to the front door. The moment he spotted you on the couch, a grin stretched across his face.

"Hey, sis, " He acknowledged Pauline before moving to you, "Sup, metal mouth."

"I got my braces removed eight years ago." You mumbled while crossing your arms.

"You heading out?" Pauline chimed in. 

"Yeah." Before the conversation could continue, the abrupt sound of the front door opening and closing sounded through the room.

"Real chatty, that brother of yours." You sarcastically stated before turning back to your movie.

______________

It was sometime past midnight and your eyes were struggling to stay open. Another movie was playing, but your mind could barely pay attention to it. Pauline had been asleep for a long time now and there was no sign that she'd be waking up anytime soon.

There was a loud bang at the front door. It startled you so much that you felt the adrenaline pulse through your body. The drowsiness from before was gone.

The door creaked open and you watched with fear. You didn't want to know what was on the other side of that door. The seconds felt like hours as it slowly unlocked.

Instead of a creepy monster or insane killer, an extremely drunk and disoriented Timothee stumbled into the house. He tried to walk forward but slammed his head against a wall.

"Woah," He mumbled, "Didn't know there was a wall there." He continued to try and walk away, only to hit the same wall again.

You were quite amused by his state and you wanted to continue watching, as it was more entertaining than what was on the TV, but resisted. He was obviously not in the best frame of mind and you'd want someone to help if it was you. So you begrudgingly got up and made your way to him.

When Timothee spotted you, he leaned one of his arms on the wall and the other on his waist. "Hello there." His voice drew out.

"Need any help?" You gestured towards the stairs.

Timothee shrugged, "Oh no I'm good."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure." He stated confidently before moving to the steps. He stood there for a few moments, staring at the steps. A feeble whisper left his lips that you could hear, "I forgot how to use the stairs."

"Oh my God." You rubbed your face in annoyance before stepping towards him. You grabbed his arm and flung it over your shoulder before wrapping an arm around his waist. "Let's go."

You were thankful that their parents were out of town seeing as it took a long time to help him upstairs. He would occasionally drift and bang one of the wails or railing. To your amazement, Pauline didn't wake up.

The two of you finally made it to his room. You've never seen it before and now walking in, it so fit him. There was a large bed that was surprisingly clean, along with the rest of the room. You'd think it would be messy, but it looked more like an IKEA showroom.

His body flailed forward and onto the bed. His head sunk on the fluffy pillows as he lazily pulled the blanket over him. You turned to move, but his arm gripped your wrist.

His mumbles we're incoherent. Just a jumble of words but you swore you could hear 'my teddy.' He pulled you in. His arms moved around your waist as his head rested on your stomach.

To say that you were confused would be an understatement.

This whole thing was strange and you wondered if it was even real. However, it was, and you tried to pry yourself away.

"You know, " Timothee spoke softly, "You're really pretty."

"I thought I was a metal mouth?" You joked.

"I only said that stuff because..." His voice drifted off.

You looked down at him with raised eyebrows, "Because what?"

Timothee didn't respond for a while. His eyes glanced around the room. The lull in the conversation continued and you believed he was asleep until his voice broke the silence.

"Because I care about you."

"Timothee, you're drunk." You spoke.

"And that somehow negates what I said?"

You observed his room in hopes of staying calm, "An awfully large word for someone so intoxicated."

"Well, I'm a smart cookie." He quipped, "You never answered my question."

"Go to sleep."

"But-"

"Go to sleep." You interjected. It didn't take a lot of time for Timothee's soft snores to fill the room. It did take a lot of time for you to calm your heartbeat and drift off.

______________

The next day you awoke to an empty bed. The sunlight peeked through his blue curtains and cast a soft glow throughout the room. You groggily stood up and slugged downstairs. Pauline was somehow still knocked out on the couch, drool pooling on her pillow.

You moved to the kitchen in hopes go get some coffee, only to see Timothee leaning against a counter with a mug in his hand.

"There's some coffee over there." He gestured to the corner. You poured yourself a mug, content with the fact that your morning was now complete.

Timothee shifted on his two feet awkwardly. "You know, about last night."

"Let's just never talk about it."

"But I want to." He stepped in front of you as you tried to exit through the kitchen door.

"What is there to talk about?"

"I want to tell you," Timothee paused, "If you'll stay calm and not freak out."

"Freak out? Of course, I'm freaking out!'  You started, "You've tormented me since we were kids! How is any of this okay?"

"(Y/N), please." Timothee was cut off by you.

"You don't even care!" You pointed your finger at him and poked his chest angrily.

"I do," Timothee responds. You let out a long scoff and rolled your eyes before turning away and taking a sip of your coffee.

"I care." His voice was low and came out like a crackle. You turned to see him standing in the doorway, a defeated look on his face.

"Then why did you bully me?"

"I just," He sighed, "I just thought it'd look cool and get your attention."

You scoffed again, "Like a stupid schoolboy?"

Timothee strode towards you, placing his cup down on the counter and taking yours and setting it down too. His hands gripped yours as he looked at his feet for a few moments.

"I do care about you," He lifted his head to look you in the eyes. "Please, let me show it."

"Timothee, you're my best friend's brother and you've teased me for years. This is just overwhelming."

"I get it. Let's take things slow and get to know each other. I will wait as long as it takes. I mean, what's another few more years?" He ends with a small joke that manages to put a smile on your face.

"We'll take things slow." You spoke again, almost as if you were confirming it.

"Yes." Timothee smiled, "Now, I'd get back out there and wake my sister up before she drowns in her own drool."

You go to move out of the kitchen and into the hallway when Timothee calls out again.

"Hey metal mouth, you're looking good today." He winks at you.

You were now terribly aware that the pyjamas you wore were covered in care bears and lollipops. The heat that flushed your cheeks stayed there as you fled the room. Though, it wasn't just from embarrassment.