𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 -- 𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐛𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫
                        𝟎𝟎𝟓: Board Games
                (𝘼𝙧𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙚, Stay Ready)

𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 was offended—honestly, she was. Should she be? Not really. In fact, she should have expected it. But that didn't make it sting any less.

She was the youngest of their group. Six months younger than Powder, a year and seven months behind Ekko, four years behind Mylo, and five and a half behind Claggor. She was used to being babied—treated like the little sister by her siblings' friends and even the patrons at the Last Drop.

But Ekko? Ekko had always been different. At least, that's what she told herself.

Mylo had once laughed, saying, "You know Ekko probably sees you as a little sister, right? Same as the rest of us." She'd bristled at that, dismissing him with an eye roll and a sharp "Whatever." But the words stuck with her, lingering in the back of her mind, unwelcome but impossible to ignore.

And now? She was starting to think Mylo was right.

Not that it should bother her. Most friends saw their friends like siblings. It was normal. Expected, even. But the thought of Ekko seeing her like that—just another little sister—it got under her skin in a way she couldn't explain.

Her siblings had a habit of bending down to place a quick, reassuring kiss on her forehead. It was a gesture they'd had to ease into when she first came to live with them, back when any kind of touch sent her spiraling into a panicked frenzy. Over time, it stopped bothering her. She was healing, after all. But that small act of affection remained, a symbol of the love they all shared.

When Ekko placed that kiss on her forehead, though, it hit differently. Her chest tightened as the truth she'd been avoiding settled in.

Ekko saw her the same way everyone else did: a fragile little sister.

Gods, she hated how much it bothered her.

It wasn't rational—she knew that. Ekko didn't mean anything by it, didn't even seem to realize the weight of the gesture. But it lingered, gnawing at the edges of her thoughts, burrowing its way under her skin.

She hated the way it made her stomach twist, the way it felt like an unspoken confirmation of every word Mylo had teased her with. She hated the sting of it, sharp and raw, as if it had peeled back some delicate layer of her pride she hadn't even realized was there.

Most of all, she hated that it mattered to her at all.

But it shouldn't bother her, really. Ekko was her friend—of course he cared for her. Him seeing her as a little sister just meant that. So why did it bother her so much?

Powder was his best friend, his partner in crime, his other half. Did he see Powder as his sister too? She had always felt that bond between them, that unspoken understanding. But somehow, it never felt the same when it came to her. Maybe she was overthinking it. Maybe it was just her own fears creeping up, but the thought of being placed in that same box—the "little sister" box—felt suffocating. She didn't want to be seen as just another sibling. Not by him. Not when everything inside of her ached to be seen as more.

Moon stretched, the heavy silence of the house interrupted only by the faint creak of her joints as she awoke. She shuffled into the living room, Claggor's old t-shirt drowning her in its oversized comfort. Sleep tugged at her edges, but she resisted. Sleeping was her favorite pastime; it felt like hitting pause on existence.

All she wanted was to make herself a drink, flop onto the living room floor, and stare pointedly at the ceiling. But it seemed someone had beaten her to the floor.

"Moon!" Powder greeted her with a grin so wide it almost split her face. She sat cross-legged on the carpet, the living room table shoved aside to make room for the board game sprawled between her and Ekko.

Moon's gaze flicked to him instinctively. He was half-lying on his side, propped up on one elbow, his other hand holding a set of dice. The glow of the lamp caught the sharp angles of his cheekbones, and his braids, usually tied back, fell lazily over his forehead in a way that was, unfortunately, unfairly distracting.

"Don't just stand there," Ekko said, his voice tinged with amusement. "Come sit. Powder's about to lose, and she's trying to stall."

"I am not!" Powder huffed, slamming a game piece onto the board with entirely too much force. "You're cheating somehow. I just haven't figured it out yet."

Moon rolled her eyes, dragging herself to the couch instead of the floor. "Let me guess. You've both been at this for hours?"

"Try all night," Powder said proudly, her focus back on the game. "And I'm not losing. He's just lucky."

"Skilled," Ekko corrected, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Moon watched them with mild amusement, tucking her legs beneath her as she sank into the couch. Powder's competitive streak was always a spectacle, and Ekko was maddeningly good at egging her on just enough to keep things lively.

"What are you playing, anyway?" Moon asked, though she didn't really care about the answer.

"Some strategy game," Powder said, her voice distracted. "Ekko said he'd teach me, but I think he's just making up rules as we go."

"I'm not making them up," Ekko said, feigning indignation. "You're just bad at following them."

Powder stuck her tongue out at him, and Moon couldn't help but laugh softly. There was something undeniably comfortable about the scene—the easy banter, the shared focus, the sense of familiarity that filled the room.

Still, she couldn't shake the slight pang in her chest when Powder placed a hand on Ekko's arm, laughing at something he said.

"You look like you're thinking too hard over there," Ekko teased, glancing up at her.

"Just wondering why you two are playing a children's game at this hour," she quipped, masking her thoughts with sarcasm.

"Because we're fun," Powder said, grinning. "You should try it sometime."

Moon smirked, leaning back against the couch. "I'll pass. Watching you two is entertaining enough."

And it was. But as her gaze drifted back to Ekko, watching the way he leaned in to explain something to Powder, she couldn't help but feel like an outsider in her own home.

Moon stretched, letting her gaze linger on the soft, worn edges of the living room. There was something comforting about this place—the chaos, the noise, the way it always seemed to pulse with life. It felt like home, even when her thoughts scattered and the familiar faces around her grew distant. But today, it was different. There was an odd sense of displacement she couldn't shake, as though she were standing on the edge of something she wasn't sure she was ready to face.

Powder's loud, competitive voice snapped her back to the moment. "You're cheating! I'm telling you, there's no way you could've rolled that number!"

Ekko's laugh followed, a soft but infectious sound that seemed to make everything feel a little lighter. "Maybe you should accept defeat with some dignity. I'm just that good."

Moon couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at her lips, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. She wanted to stay wrapped up in this easy, familiar dynamic, to let herself blend into the background like she always did. But somehow, the energy in the room felt different. She felt like an observer, a spectator to the inside joke that no one had invited her into. It was an uncomfortable realization, one that made her want to retreat even further into the quiet corners of her mind.

She adjusted her position, trying to mask the discomfort, but she couldn't quite ignore the ache that gnawed at her chest. Ekko and Powder had this effortless connection. It was deep, rooted in years of shared memories, understanding, and unspoken words. There was history between them, a bond forged in the fires of their past. And though Moon had always been part of their group, sometimes it felt like an outsider, just outside the line of closeness they shared.

It wasn't that Ekko didn't care for her—she knew he did. But there was always this unspoken distance between them, a line she could never quite cross. Maybe it was her own insecurities creeping in, or maybe it was the ever-present reminder that Ekko had known Powder longer, had trusted her more, had shared things with her that Moon could never hope to be part of.

But that wasn't fair. She wasn't just the "little sister" anymore, was she? She was strong, capable, independent. Yet, with Ekko, it was hard to feel like she wasn't still that girl who needed help, who was fragile and dependent on others. Was that all she'd ever be to him? Just another person in the background of his world?

"Are you even paying attention?" Ekko's voice cut through her spiraling thoughts.

Moon blinked, shaking her head slightly as she refocused on him. He was still leaning in to explain something to Powder, his eyes alight with the kind of energy that only came when he was fully immersed in something. His lips moved as he spoke, explaining in his usual sarcastic way how to win the game, even though they both knew it was mostly a joke.

"Sorry, I was... thinking about something," Moon replied, offering a half-hearted smile.

"Don't hurt yourself," Ekko teased, but there was an underlying softness to his voice that made Moon pause for a second. He didn't push her—didn't ask her what was really bothering her, but somehow, she felt like he knew.

"Are you alright?" Powder asked, her voice quiet for once, as she stopped her competitive banter and leaned forward, her eyes searching Moon's face.

Moon's chest tightened, but she nodded quickly, offering a smile that felt a little too bright. "Yeah, just tired, that's all."

Powder didn't buy it, but she didn't push either. She leaned back and shot Ekko a knowing look, one that made Moon shift uncomfortably. Was everyone starting to see through her? To notice that something was off? Was she really so transparent?

"Alright, let's call it a night before we end up arguing about dice rolls for another few hours," Ekko said, pushing the game pieces aside. He stretched out, yawning as he ran a hand through his hair. "We can finish this tomorrow."

Moon barely acknowledged his words, the discomfort still lingering like a weight she couldn't shake off. She stood, excusing herself with a soft murmur. "I'm going to bed."

"Goodnight, Moon," Powder called out cheerfully. "Don't let the bed bugs bite."

Ekko waved her off casually, but there was something in his gaze as he looked up at her, something that made Moon hesitate. It was like he was trying to read her, figure out what was really going on inside her head. And maybe, just maybe, she wanted him to. But she wasn't ready to let him see the cracks yet. Not when she was still trying to put herself back together.

Moon retreated to her room, shutting the door softly behind her. She leaned against it for a moment, closing her eyes, trying to steady her breathing. She had to stop thinking about it—stop letting this gnawing insecurity fester. Ekko cared for her. That was enough. It had to be.

But still, a part of her couldn't help but wish for something more. Something she couldn't quite name. Something that might shift everything between them and make it all feel just a little less uncertain.

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒!

Shorter chapter. Since Can't Catch Me and most of this book will be from Ekko's point of view I realized you'll never see Moon developing feelings for Ekko simply because no one thought she had any for him, so it'll come sort of out of nowhere and I didn't really want that so I'll have like 2-3 chapters of her.

Forgot to mention in the disclaimers, you can request scenarios of Ekko and Moon. This book isn't serious it's just a fun spin off, I will put out chapters I feel are needed for the plot in the order I feel is needed but I'm more than happy to squeeze in other side plots if they make sense.

Powder doesn't like Ekko. Moon is 14, Ekko is 16.