Hours dragged by after the incident...
I lay there staring at the ceiling, contemplating my bleak fate.
Suddenly...
there was a soft knock at my door.
"Come in," I said, my voice half-dead.
Hana walked in, her steps hesitant, wearing a light cotton pajama — way too short, almost exposing her thighs — and a loose simple shirt that hung over her slim body.
Her big eyes looked at me, uncertain.
"Big brother..."
"Hmm?"
"I... I want to learn how to... be closer to you..."
That one line — innocent on the surface, loaded with unintended danger — almost stabbed straight through my heart.
> "Fuck... this is a disaster on top of a disaster."
She sat at the edge of my bed — way too close — so close I could smell the fresh scent of her skin, like she had just stepped out of the shower.
"Closer? What do you mean?" I asked, fighting to keep my voice steady.
She dropped her gaze, nervously playing with the hem of her shirt.
"At school... the girls say you have to know how to show love... through touching... caring... hugging... stuff like that..."
She looked up at me with a kind of pure, deadly shyness.
"And you're my big brother... I want to learn with you first... You trust me, right?"
> "Kidnapped. I am officially kidnapped."
...
I cleared my throat and sat up straighter.
"Uh... okay... well, hugging is simple..." I said, praying to every deity I could think of not to lose the last shred of dignity I had.
I opened my arms awkwardly and gave a half-assed smile.
She dove into me immediately —
burying her face into my chest, wrapping her small arms tightly around my waist.
The warmth of her body, the feel of her soft skin under the thin fabric... it was like my soul quietly slipped out of my body.
...
She stayed there, hugging me way longer than necessary.
Then, slowly, she lifted her head, her breath brushing against my neck.
She looked at me with those bright, wide eyes.
"What comes next?" she whispered.
...
> "What comes next? You wanna kill me? Bury me alive? Crucify my feelings on the altar of your innocence?"
...
"After the hug... sometimes... there's a kiss on the forehead," I said, practically biting my tongue to hold back an emotional meltdown.
She nodded quickly.
Closed her eyes.
Tilted her head up toward me — waiting.
...
God...
Her tiny pink face... that delicate nose... her lips, slightly parted in shy anticipation...
I leaned forward slowly — the kind of slow that knows it's marching straight into execution —
and kissed her forehead softly.
...
She shivered slightly under the touch...
then opened her eyes, still not moving away.
"Can I kiss you too?" she asked, in the voice of a kid about to steal candy.
I couldn't answer.
I just stared at her, stunned.
She leaned closer...
Planted a quick, feather-light kiss on my cheek.
Then giggled shyly and lowered her head.
> "Survived... by pure miracle."
...
She jumped off the bed suddenly, announcing:
"I'll practice more tomorrow!"
Then bolted out of the room.
...
I was left sprawled in bed, sweating like I'd just survived a warzone.
I covered my face with my hand.
> "There's no way I'm making it out of this story alive..."