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Todos os capítulos de CRAVING MY SISTER'S BOYFRIEND : Capítulo 71 - Capítulo 80

80 Capítulos

FATHER IS DEAD

FATHER IS DEAD. DOMINIC The phone rang at 2:47 in the morning, The phone vibrated on the nightstand. The screen lit up to show the name HelenMy stomach dropped. Sweat broke out on my forehead. My hands started shaking before I even reached for the phone. I knew why she was calling. The doctor said weeks, maybe less. But knowing did not make it easier.Cyrus stirred. His hand moved on my chest."Dominic?" He sounded sleepy. "What's wrong?""My mother is calling.""At this hour?" I stared at the screen. Helen. My mother. The woman who had stood in the doorway and watched my father throw me out. The woman who had not spoken a word in my defense. The woman who was now alone in that house with his body."I think he's gone," I said.The words came out flat."Baby," Cyrus said softly. He sat up. His hand moved to my back. "Do you want me to answer it?""No. I need to do this."I picked up the phone. Swiped answer. Pressed it to my ear. My hand was shaking so much I almost dropped i

A NEW HOUSE

A NEW HOUSE DOMINIC We stayed on the lake until the sun started going down.Cyrus had the key in his pocket. He kept touching it. Every few minutes, his hand would go to his pocket and his fingers would feel the metal through the fabric. I watched him do it while.He did not know I was watching. His eyes were on the water. His lips were parted. He was thinking about something.We did not talk much on the water. The boat drifted. Cyrus sat across from me with his feet up on the seat. His shoes were off. His socks were wet from dragging his feet in the water earlier. He had rolled his pants up to his calves. His legs were pale. I could see the small scar on his right shin from when he fell off his bike as a kid.I let the boat drift. I did not care where we went. We were in no hurry.Cyrus touched his pocket again. He pulled the key out. He held it up to the light. The brass caught the last of the sun. It glowed."I cannot believe you bought a house," he said. His voice was quiet.

I WANT YOUR COCK

I WANT YOUR COCK. DOMINIC We sat on the porch swing until the realtor showed up twenty minutes late. She apologized. We did not care. Cyrus signed the papers with his left hand because his right hand was holding mine. The realtor asked if we wanted to take a walk through the house together. We said no. She handed us the keys. Two of them. One for me. One for Cyrus. Cyrus looked at his key like it was made of gold."Congratulations," the realtor said. "You are homeowners."Cyrus turned to look at me. His hand went into his pocket. He touched the key again."What do you want to do first?" I asked. He looked at me. His eyes were dark. His lips were parted. His chest was rising and falling faster than normal."I want to fuck you in our bedroom," he said. His voice was low. The words landed in my stomach and spread down to my cock. I felt myself get hard. My jeans felt tight."Our bedroom does not have a bed," I said.He grabbed my hand. His fingers wrapped around mine. He pulled me

OUR END

OUR END. DOMINIC The house was quiet.My mother had gone to bed an hour ago. The lights were off downstairs. The only sound was the wind outside and the creak of the porch swing settling.Cyrus and I were in the living room. The fireplace was burning. The flames were low. The room was warm.He was sitting on the couch. I was sitting on the floor between his legs. My back was against the couch. His legs were on either side of me. His hand was in my hair. His fingers moved slowly."We have to go back to work tomorrow," he said."I know.""The companies are merged now. Everything is official." I leaned my head back. I looked up at him. His face looked a little anxious."Are you nervous?" I asked.He was quiet for a moment. His fingers kept moving in my hair."Yes," he said. "A little.""Why?" He looked at the fire. The flames reflected in his eyes."Because people will talk," he said. "The staff. The board. Everyone. They will point fingers. They will whisper. They will say we only

JUST ONE NIGHT

JUST ONE NIGHTCYRUSThe apartment was quiet. Dominic and I sat on the couch. The TV was off. The lights were dim. The only brightness came from the city outside the window, He was sitting close to me. Close enough that our thighs touched i looked at his hand. At the lines on his palm. At the way his fingers curved slightly, relaxed."You keep looking at my hand," he said."I like your hands."He turned his head. His eyes found mine. In the low light, they looked darker than usual. Almost black."Yeah?""Yeah." I reached out and traced my finger along one of the lines. "This one means something. I forget what.""It means I'm going to live a long life.""Does it?""No. I made that up." He smiled. "But I'm going to anyway. Live a long life. With you."I felt my chest get tight. Not in a bad way. In the way that happens when someone says something so simple and so true that it knocks the air out of you."You can't promise that," I said."I know." He turned his hand over and caught mine.

SILENT REMORSE

SILENT REMORSECYRUSA week passes and it doesn’t soften anything. It just stretches the pain thinner until it’s everywhere, like I’ve been skinned and forced to live anyway. Every hour feels the same. I don’t wake up refreshed, I just surface from one kind of numb into another. I keep thinking there should be a moment where my body realizes Doninic is gone and adjusts. It never does. It just keeps waiting, stupid and hopeful, like I trained it wrong.I stop eating first. Not deliberately. I sit in front of plates and stare at them until the smell turns my stomach. When I try to force it down, my throat closes. My body rejects it like it’s foreign. Like it doesn’t deserve to be fed when the person who mattered most to it isn’t here anymore. I tell myself I’ll eat later. Later never comes.Sleep goes next. Or maybe it goes first and I just don’t notice. I lie in bed for hours, eyes open, staring at ceilings, at corners, at nothing. My mind loops relentlessly—what I said, what he said,

THE GRAND PLAN

THE GRAND PLAN Dominic I haven’t stopped moving since I got here. That’s the first thing that hits me every time I become aware of myself again. Not where I am. Not what I’ve done. Just the fact that my body refuses to settle, like if I stop, something worse will catch up to me. The room feels wrong in a Foreign hotel. Neutral colors meant to offend no one, comfort everyone, and somehow they do the opposite. Thick curtains pulled shut even though it’s still daytime. My suitcase is open on the bed, clothes half unpacked, folded and unfolded again without purpose, like my hands needed something to do so they wouldn’t reach for my phone.I pace from the window to the desk to the bed and back. Over and over. The same steps, the same path, like if I repeat it enough times it will start to make sense. My fingers twitch. My jaw aches from being clenched too long. My chest feels tight, heavy, like something is pressing inward, something that won’t let me take a full breath. I keep thinking

OUT IN THE AIR

OUT IN THE AIRCYRUS POV.I swore I’d never step foot in Festus’s house again.I said it years ago, out loud, drunk and furious and bleeding from a fight that never should’ve happened. I remember pointing at the place like it was cursed ground, telling Timone if he ever dragged me back here it’d be because I was dead or desperate. Turns out desperation counts.The door closes behind me and the sound lands wrong in my chest. Too final. Too quiet. The house smells like coffee and wood polish and something citrusy that doesn’t belong to me. Festus’s place has always felt like a territory line I wasn’t supposed to cross. Clean. Controlled. Everything I’m not right now.I stand there longer than necessary, hands shoved in my pockets, jaw tight, trying not to think about how I don’t actually have anywhere else to go.Timone notices. Of course he does. He always notices.“I’m sorry,” he says, low, careful. “I know you hate this place. I know you said you never wanted to come back here.”I le

I LOVE YOU

I LOVE YOUCYRUS POV.“I love Doninic ,” I say, and I don’t pause, don’t soften it, don’t give her time to brace because I’ve been bracing for years and I’m done carrying that weight alone. “I don’t love you, Stella. I never did. I tried to convince myself I could, that it would come with time, that marriage would fix something that was already broken in me, but it didn’t. It just made the lie heavier. If you need the truth stripped bare, then here it is: I've been gay my entire life. This didn’t start with him. It didn’t start last year or last month or whenever the rumors decided to crawl out of the gutter. I was born this way, and I buried it because it was easier to be the son, the husband, the partner everyone expected than to be honest.”She doesn't move at first. Just stares. Like she’s watching something collapse in slow motion and can’t look away. Her lips part, then press together again, like she’s tasting every word, weighing how much damage they’ve already done. I can se

OUT IN THE AIR

OUT IN THE OPENCYRUS POINT OF VIEWI woke up to noise, I didn’t open my eyes at first because my head was pounding and my body felt pinned, heavy, wrong, the whispers kept going anyway.“—that’s him.”“I know.”“I thought he died.”“Well obviously not.”I opened my eyes. I saw White ceiling. Hospital lights. Curtains half pulled. Two nurses standing just outside my room, angled toward each other, heads close. One of them noticed my eyes were open and stopped talking mid-word. They both looked at me like I’d caught them doing something dirty.I swallowed. My throat burned. “Morning.”Neither answered. They exchanged a look. One nodded. They walked off together and started whispering again the second they were a few steps away. My heart started racing. I lay there staring at the doorway, jaw tight, chest feeling too small.Another nurse passed by. I tried again. “Hey.”She smiled without stopping. “Morning.” Already gone. They were avoiding me. All of them. Talking around me. Like I wa

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