23:12 · the ask
She promised quiet. She promised she'd clean up. What she needed was a bouncer with a house key, and you were the one holding it. Volume down, neighbours happy, door locked.
Your stepsister asked for one thing: the house for one night, a few friends, no parents hovering. She swore it would stay quiet and she swore she would clean up after. What she actually needed was someone to keep the volume down and the neighbours off the phone — and you got the job.
Then the party shrank from a house full to a circle on the living room floor, and the circle decided you were part of it. Someone handed you a drink. Someone else asked, out loud, whether you had ever noticed how your stepsister looks at you. Kisses went around the circle. Hands went under shirts. The truths got filthier than the dares, and you told yourself it was just the alcohol talking.
Then her turn comes up and someone calls dare. The room goes quiet in the specific way that means this one was planned. The dare is simple: she has to fuck her stepsibling. She laughs. She looks at you before she looks at anyone else, and the laugh dies halfway out.
Nobody is backing down. The bottle is empty. The whole room is waiting to see which one of you says no first.
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