The house was filled with noise again — the kind I used to wake up to years ago. 

Ethan and Kim were already in the living room, arguing over who was better in basketball at college.

“Ray, back me up!” Ethan yelled when I walked in. “You’ve seen me play. Tell him I’d win.”

I grabbed an apple from the counter and said. “You’d win… if he let you.”

Kim laughed, stretching his arms behind his head. “See? Even your sister agrees.”

Ethan groaned. “

She’s only saying that because she likes you more.”

I almost choked on my bite. “Excuse me?”

Kim smirked. “Wow, I didn’t expect this early in the morning.”

My cheeks warmed, and I quickly looked away. “You two are still children.” And ran to my room

But deep down, I could feel that small, quiet pull again — the one I’d been pretending not to notice.

The day passed. The summer heat made everything feel slower, softer. Ethan left to meet some college friends in the afternoon, 

and for the first time since Kim arrived, it was the first time just the two of us in the house.

He was sitting on the porch, headphones on, sketching something in a small notebook. That surprised me — I didn’t know he drew.

I leaned against the doorframe. “Since when do you sketch?”

He looked up, smiling gently. “Since forever. You just never noticed.”

I walked over and sat beside him. “Let me see.” I tried to look.

He hesitated, then turned the notebook around.

 It was a messy but beautiful drawing of the old basketball hoop in our backyard. The lines were a bit rough, but I could feel the memory in it.

“You’re good,” I said honestly.

He shrugged, brushing it off. “Not really. I just draw when I don’t want to think too much.”

I looked at him, noticing the small details — the way the sunlight touched his hair, the soft concentration in his eyes. 

He wasn’t the same boy I remembered. There was something more careful, more thoughtful about him now.

Maybe that’s why I couldn’t stop staring.

I was in my thoughts, didn't realise. 

He caught me and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing,” I said too quickly. “Just… surprised you can draw, that’s all.”

He smiled a little. “Guess there’s a lot you don’t know about me anymore.”

Something in his voice made my chest tighten. 

I immediately looked away, pretending to fix my hair, but my hands were suddenly unsteady.

That evening, when Ethan came back, he noticed the sketchbook on the table. “Whoa, Kim still doodles?”

Kim rolled his eyes. “They’re not doodles.”

Ethan laughed and flipped through the pages anyway. “Man, you used to draw me as a superhero when we were kids.”

I smiled at the memory. And said “Yeah, I remember that. He even gave you a cape.”

Kim smiled faintly. “You used to sit beside me when I drew. You’d always ask why I didn’t add you in the picture.”

My cheeks warmed again. “I was five, Kim.”

“Still,” he said, a little softer. “You looked disappointed.”

Ethan looked between us, confused. “What are you two even talking about?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly, snatching the apple from the counter again.

 “Old memories.”

But as I turned away , I could feel Kim’s eyes on me — the kind of look that said some memories don’t stay old for long.

That night, as I lay in bed, thought about how strange it felt now.

He was still Kim — the same person who used to steal my snacks, tease me, laugh at me.

But now, every small thing he did made my heart beat fast, feel differently.

I didn’t know what it meant yet, what to do with this strange feeling.

But I knew one thing for sure — I wasn’t seeing him as just my brother’s friend anymore.