My stepbrother and I are the main characters in a step-siblings romance novel. After realizing this, I avoided him like the plague to stop these inappropriate feelings. However, he pinned me against the kitchen counter, biting my neck, and growled, “You can only love me.” The day Jack brought his girlfriend home, I had a ridiculous dream. In the dream, I was the female lead in a step-siblings romance novel, and my stepbrother Jack was the male lead. Jack’s girlfriend, Emily, was the antagonist in this story. In the book, Jack had liked me since childhood, and a strong sense of guilt haunted him throughout his adolescence. He had sneaked into my room countless times to kiss the corner of my mouth while I was asleep, and had woken up sweating profusely in the middle of the night, calling out my name. To let go of these abnormal feelings, Jack agreed to date Emily, who had a crush on him for six years. At this point in the story, I woke up from my dream. Frightened by the absurd scenes in my dream, it took me a while to calm down. Jack liking me? How could that be possible? I recalled Jack’s cold attitude towards me in daily life and shook my head slightly. But even so, I still felt uncomfortable. When I was young and naive, I did have a crush on Jack. I remember being encouraged by my best friend to knock on his door late at night, only to see the impatience and disgust in his eyes when he saw me. So, those secrets were gradually buried deep in my heart, rotting away.
The next day, when I went downstairs, Jack and Emily were sitting on the couch. Jack had his head slightly lowered, his long fingers playing with Emily’s bracelet. Emily greeted me enthusiastically, and I noticed how beautiful and charming she was. As my gaze shifted to her lips, I was slightly taken aback. The girl’s red lips were slightly swollen, making it easy to guess what they had been doing. I hurriedly tried to look away, but accidentally met Jack’s cold gaze. “Jack,” I forced a natural smile. Jack didn’t respond. Seeing this, Emily gave me an awkward smile and playfully pinched Jack’s arm. As I left the house, I thought to myself, it really was just a ridiculous dream after all. When I returned home that evening, Jack wasn’t back yet. I went to the kitchen and made a simple dinner for myself. While washing the dishes after eating, I heard the sound of the door opening. Jack had entered the kitchen at some point. I was slightly startled and asked, “Jack, do you want something to eat?” Jack didn’t answer me, he just walked up to me. That’s when I noticed his beautiful and delicate face had an unusual redness to it. He was drunk. I quietly took a step back and asked him softly, “Jack, did you have a fight with Emily?” Jack stubbornly took another step forward and forcefully grabbed my chin. I was forced to look into his eyes, and I realized his gaze was incredibly cold: “Jack?” “Don’t call me that.” Jack’s long fingers slowly caressed my cheek, “Are we even related by blood?” I froze on the spot. Seeing this, Jack let out a mocking laugh and released his hand, then asked with a smile, “What kind of sister would harbor such unspeakable thoughts for her brother?” I closed my eyes, suppressing the bitterness welling up inside. When I opened my eyes again, there was only calmness in my gaze: “But Jack, I don’t like you anymore.” “Liking you was too painful.” “So Jack, whether that dream was real or not, I don’t want to like you anymore.” Hearing what I said, Jack, who was about to turn away, paused slightly, but he didn’t respond to me.
That night, I had another dream. In the dream, Jack pinned me against the kitchen counter and kissed the corner of my mouth passionately. The kitchen door was wide open, and I could faintly hear our parents talking in the living room. I struggled, trying to get Jack to let go of me, but he lowered his voice and asked, “You don’t like me anymore? Hm?” “Jack, you already have Emily,” I said in the dream. Jack bit my neck without a care, his voice husky as he said, “I only want you.” I woke up from the dream once again, the stinging sensation of the bite on my neck still lingering. It was too strange. The dreams I’ve had these past two days were too strange. Could it be that Jack really liked me? I remembered the photos of me that Jack had secretly taken in the dream I had the other night. If the dream was real, would those photos be in Jack’s album? I picked up my phone and checked the time – 2 AM. Throwing on some clothes, I still went to Jack’s door. When Jack sleeps, he usually leaves his phone on the desk, quite far from his bed. If his room door wasn’t closed, I could just sneak in, take the phone, check it, and put it back quietly. If the door was closed, I’d give up for now and find another way to check his album later. But what I didn’t expect was that the doorknob turned easily without a sound. Jack’s room had a pleasant scent, the same as the one he carried. But ever since Jack found out I liked him, it had been a long time since I’d smelled this scent. I quietly walked to the desk, and sure enough, the phone was right there. Just as my hand touched the phone, a cold voice came from behind me: “What are you doing?” I trembled slightly in fright and immediately turned around: “Jack…” Jack was standing right behind me, just a step away. He stared at me for a few seconds, then suddenly reached out to touch the corner of my eye: “Why are you crying?” “I’m not crying.” Jack didn’t say anything, but his touch became rougher, his calloused fingertips rubbing my eye corner painfully. For some reason, I felt that Jack was very dangerous right now. “Let me guess what you’re doing?” Jack’s cool hand slowly slid down to my neck, his voice husky, “Were you trying to sneak a look at my phone?” Seeing that I didn’t answer, Jack let out a mocking laugh and picked up the phone himself, holding it in front of me. He unlocked it with his fingerprint: “What do you want to see?” “SnapChat, text messages, or…” Jack paused slightly here, his deep gaze fixed on me, “my photo album?” My eyelashes fluttered. Jack’s expression became even more dangerous. Just as I was about to explain, Jack suddenly grabbed my wrist and placed the phone in my palm, opening the main interface of the photo album. I couldn’t help but look down at my hand. The album was visibly filled with page after page of intimate photos of him and Emily. My hand holding the phone trembled slightly. Jack took the phone from my hand and stepped back, his voice turning cold: “Aren’t you leaving?” I didn’t leave, just stood there firmly and said word by word: “Are you serious about Emily?” Jack didn’t answer, but the usually cold person seemed to think of something, and a hint of tenderness and deep affection rippled in his eyes. His gaze now was identical to how he looked at me in the dream. My stepbrother and I are the main characters in a step-siblings romance novel. After realizing this, I avoided him like the plague to stop these inappropriate feelings. However, he pinned me against the kitchen counter, biting my neck, and growled, “You can only love me.”
Jack could only love me. For some reason, this thought suddenly popped into my head. That night, I couldn’t sleep at all. The desire to find the photos Jack had taken in my dream grew stronger. The next day, I bumped into Jack as I was leaving. Unusually, I didn’t greet him, and Jack didn’t say anything either. We tacitly acted as if nothing had happened the night before, calmly treating each other like strangers. What I didn’t know was that the moment I left, Jack’s eyes instantly darkened, all traces of his previous calmness gone. As a senior, I didn’t really have many classes, but staying in the same space as Jack made me even more uncomfortable. Jack and I didn’t always have such a strained relationship; at first, he was just a bit cold towards me. It wasn’t until the night before college registration five years ago, when I knocked on Jack’s door, that things changed. At that time, my feelings for Jack were at their strongest. Jack’s bangs were slightly damp, and his delicate features showed a hint of impatience. I lowered my head, then mustered up the courage to speak: “I like you, Jack.” Those few seconds felt like centuries. I didn’t dare to look up at Jack’s expression, but I saw his pale, slender hand hanging by his pants suddenly clench, veins popping out. After several seconds, Jack’s icy voice finally sounded above my head: “Lily, I’m your brother.” “I know, but we’re not blood-related…” “Look up,” Jack interrupted me. I obediently looked up at him. Jack stared at me for a few seconds, then suddenly grabbed my chin, his voice ice-cold: “You like me?” I nodded slightly. Jack smiled: “You want to be with me?” I hesitantly nodded. Jack chuckled, his voice mocking: “Are you worthy?” Those three words, “Are you worthy?”, became like a curse. Later, every time I saw Jack, these words would flood my mind, tormenting me. From that day on, Jack’s attitude towards me changed drastically, becoming cold and dismissive. After that day, I didn’t go home for about two weeks straight. Until I had to return home to get a USB drive. To avoid running into Jack, I deliberately chose a time when he usually wouldn’t be home, planning to grab the USB and leave. But I didn’t expect that as soon as I opened the door, I’d be pulled into an embrace that smelled of alcohol and faint mint. Jack’s usually cold voice now seemed to carry a hint of grievance: “Where have you been?” “What’s it to you?” “How is it not my business?” he said, half-pushing, half-carrying me towards the living room. After struggling in vain, I was brought along with him as we fell onto the living room couch: “Jack, what exactly do you want?” No one answered me. I looked up and realized that Jack had already closed his eyes. He looked heavily drunk, his face flushed, and his usually neat suit now wrinkled.
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