Stay away from her

Noah froze in place as Henry leaned against the doorframe of his room. Henry's eyes were cold, filled with something between anger and disdain, but most of all, they radiated dominance.

Noah's chest tightened. Henry didn't need to say anything for Noah to feel the familiar, crushing fear that his brother always brought. He hated Henry—he truly did—but he was also terrified of him.

When they were younger, it wasn't unusual for Henry to lash out at him. But it wasn't just roughhousing or childish fights. Henry's violence was calculated and brutal.

There was the time Henry broke Noah's nose during an argument over a baseball. Blood had poured out like a faucet, and even now, years later, Noah sometimes got random nosebleeds because it hadn't healed properly. Another time, Henry had pinned him to the ground and twisted his arm so far back that it popped out of the socket.

Noah remembered screaming in pain, begging for help, but Henry hadn't let go until their dad walked into the room. Even then, there was no scolding, no punishment—just a brief, dismissive, "Boys will be boys."

Those days had left a scar. Not on Noah's body—that had healed—but on his mind. Even now, as Henry stood there, not even touching him, Noah could feel that same helplessness crawling up his spine.

---

Henry finally broke the silence. His voice was low and sharp. "Stay away from her."

Noah blinked. "W-What?"

"You heard me," Henry said, stepping into the room. "Stay away from that girl you've been talking to."

Noah stared at him, confusion written all over his face. "What are you talking about? What girl?"

Henry narrowed his eyes. "Don't play dumb. You know exactly who I mean. Maiya… whatever her name is."

Noah's jaw tightened. "Maiya? Why does it matter to you? She's my friend."

"Friend?" Henry let out a humorless laugh. "Don't kid yourself, Noah. You don't have friends."

That comment stung more than Noah wanted to admit. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. "You can't just come into my room and tell me who I can and can't talk to."

Henry took another step forward, and the air in the room felt heavier. "I'm not telling you. I'm ordering you. Stay away from her."

Noah felt his frustration boiling over. For once, he wanted to stand up for himself. "I'm not your slave, Henry! You can't just boss me around like I'm some kid!"

Before he could process what was happening, Henry grabbed him by the collar and yanked him forward. Their faces were inches apart now, and Noah could feel his brother's breath on his face.

"You think you can talk back to me?" Henry growled. His grip tightened on Noah's shirt. "Let me make this simple for you. Either you stay away from her on your own, or I'll make sure you stay away from her. Do you understand me?"

Noah's heart pounded in his chest. He wanted to fight back, to push Henry off, but he couldn't. His legs felt like jelly, and his arms hung limply at his sides. Every time he thought about fighting back, flashes of the past came rushing back—Henry pinning him down, punching him, hurting him over and over again.

Seeing the fear in Noah's eyes, Henry smirked and released his grip. Noah stumbled back, catching himself against his desk.

"I'm doing this for your own good," Henry said, his tone cold and dismissive. "Stay away from her. Stay away from them. You don't belong with people like her."

Noah stared at him, his chest heaving with a mix of anger and despair. "Why? Why do you even care?"

Henry didn't answer right away. He just stared at Noah, his expression unreadable. Then, without another word, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving Noah alone with his thoughts.

---

Noah sat on the edge of his bed, his fists clenched tightly in his lap. He felt a storm of emotions swirling inside him—anger, sadness, frustration, and most of all, hopelessness.

Maiya was the first person in years who had treated him like he mattered, and now Henry was trying to take that away from him.

Why does he always do this? Noah thought, his nails digging into his palms.Why does he think he can control me?

But no matter how angry he felt, he couldn't shake the fear. Henry's words echoed in his mind, and with them came the memories of every time Henry had hurt him. Noah hated how powerless he felt, how easily Henry could reduce him to this scared, broken version of himself.

---

---

Noah's feet dragged as he made his way to school. The sun was shining, birds were chirping, but he barely noticed. His thoughts were too loud, replaying the argument with Henry over and over.

"Stay away from her."

The words grated on him like sandpaper.

Does he think he owns me? Noah thought bitterly.He can't control who I talk to. He's not my boss.

But even as he tried to convince himself, the fear lingered in the back of his mind.

When he reached the school gate, he spotted Maiya waiting by the classroom door. She was sketching in a notebook, but her head shot up when she saw him. Her face lit up, and she waved enthusiastically.

"Noah!" she called out, tucking her notebook under her arm and hurrying toward him. "Hey! I was hoping I'd see you this morning!"

He froze for a moment, his thoughts racing. His heart told him to smile back, to respond, to let himself enjoy this rare moment of connection. But Henry's voice loomed in the back of his mind.

Maiya reached him, still beaming. "So, I was thinking about what you said yesterday about using dynamic angles in action scenes. I tried it out last night, and oh my gosh, it made such a difference! I mean, it still kinda sucks, but I think I'm starting to get the hang of it."

Noah tried to muster a smile, but it felt forced. "T-That's… good."

Maiya frowned slightly. "Are you okay? You look kinda… off."

Noah's stomach churned. "I… I'm not feeling well," he mumbled, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground. "I need to be alone."

Maiya tilted her head, concern flickering across her face. "Alone? What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"No," Noah said quickly. Too quickly. "It's nothing. I'm just… tired."

Maiya hesitated, studying him. "Are you sure? You don't look 'just tired.' You can talk to me, you know. I'm a great listener."

"I'm fine," he insisted, taking a step back. His voice was shaking now. "I just need… I just need some space."

Maiya's brows knitted together, her usual bright energy dimming. "Oh. Okay, if that's what you want."

Noah nodded, not trusting himself to say anything more. He walked past her and into the classroom, his chest heavy with guilt.

"Hey, Noah!" she called after him, her voice softer now. He stopped but didn't turn around.

"If you ever want to talk… or just sit and draw together or something… I'm here, okay?"

Her words were kind, but they felt like knives. Noah clenched his fists, hating how torn he felt. "Thanks," he muttered, barely loud enough for her to hear, before slipping into the classroom and sinking into his seat.

For the rest of the day, he avoided her glances, his mind a constant war between Henry's warning and his own desire for connection.

---