When we’re here, Silver pretends I don’t exist as she goes on about her day. I’ve told her a thousand times over that the more she acts like a bitch towards me or anyone else — the more she fakes her life — the harder I’ll fuck her that night.
I think she’s doing it on purpose. Her eyes will shine with both excitement and fear whenever I corner her, then she’ll flip her hair and tell me she’s not scared of me.
She is sometimes. Or she’s probably scared of the depth of her desire for me.
Whenever I sneak into her room at night and find her in one of those oversized T-shirts, she jumps in bed, realising just how much she’s fucked.
I tie her down most of the time, and she comes harder than any other type of sex.
As soon as we finish practice, Silver decides to have a one-on-one with Aiden near the pitch.
Recently, after Elsa nearly drowned in the pool, she broke it off with Aiden. Silver is using that chance to stake her claim again, and Aiden is doing it to make Elsa jealous and go back to him.
Silver’s smile is fake at best. I know her genuine smiles, and they’re usually reserved for her parents and home. She offers them whenever she compliments Mum’s food, or when she kisses her dad good morning and tells him she loves him.
They also come out when she sleeps wrapped around me. But she’ll never admit that.
At every reminder that we’re siblings, she physically pushes away from me. If she’s sitting across from me, she’ll squirm. If she’s somehow beside me — which is rare as hell — she’ll inch away.
The fact that I can’t be with her in public used to be fine at the beginning. I used to like knowing that she’s a bitch on the outside but turns into a willing submissive whenever I touch her. That I’m the only one who sees that side of her.
On wrong days, like fucking today, it isn’t fine.
Aiden can be with her, can touch her, can even fucking marry her and get everyone’s blessings. The fact that I can’t has been worsening the chaos that’s been in my head since they got engaged when we were fifteen.
It’s not like I can say to Mum, ‘Hey, you got your fun with Sebastian, now leave him.’
Not only is that selfish, but I also care too much about Mum’s well-being to ever do that to her.
Doesn’t mean I don’t think about it.
“Whoa. Look at them go.” Ronan clutches my shoulder as I stand by the bench and pretend to drink from a water bottle.
Resisting the urge to glare at him, I feign nonchalance. “Look at who?”
“What?” Xander runs towards us, panting. “Who? Drama?”
“Captain is pretending he doesn’t care about King and Silver.”
Why should I? They’re both playing a game. But I don’t say that in front of these two fuckers or they’ll use it as a chance to think I care.
“I don’t think Silver likes King.” Xander shrugs. Finally, someone seeing the truth. “I don’t think she likes or cares about anyone, actually. Everyone calls Elsa Frozen, but Silver is pure metal.”
She’s not. She does care. Silver calls her mum five times a day and makes sure her dad stays hydrated and Mum stays focused whenever she has a deadline. She watches Kim’s disintegration from afar with a sad expression that she wipes away before anyone can see it.
The reason Silver seems like an uncaring, self-centred bitch is because she doesn’t show her concern. She considers it a weakness and does everything to smother it.
“Nonsense.” Ronan points at himself. “She likes me.”
“She likes no one,” Xander says.
“Except for moi.” Ronan grins. “Everyone likes me.”
“Not me,” I taunt.
“Me neither most of the time,” Xan agrees.
“Fuck you both, connards. I’m really filing a report for neglect.” Ronan switches to a dramatic tone. “My abandonment issues are coming back to me. I need therapy.”