The Gray Family Let The Games Begin

"Do you feel it too?" Aiden's voice was so low that Tristan barely heard him, but the words sent a shiver down his spine.

As Aiden moved even closer, he blinked several times, taking another step back to put more space between them. A smirk hinted at the corners of Aiden's silver eyes and caused the skin around his lips to crinkle. He advanced one step forward, then another, until he'd pressed Tristan against the wall with nowhere left for him to go. Tristan's Adam-apple bobbed as he swallowed hard and tried not to meet Aiden's gaze.

"Or is it just me?"

Tristan's breath caught as Aiden's fingers brushed his, the contact lingering longer than it should have. They were standing too close-closer than brothers should-but neither of them made a move to create space. The heat between them was undeniable in a way that felt dangerous, like standing too close to a flame that could either warm you or burn you alive.

Suddenly the power went out, but their faces were still visible thanks to the soft glow of an automatic lamp illuminating the room.

"Aiden, we shouldn't..." Tristan started to speak but Aiden moved swiftly, caging him against the wall.

"Why don't you find out if it's just me," Aiden murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he drew even closer. Their lips were almost touching. Tristan clenched his fists against the hem of his own shirt, bracing himself for what was to come.

Just as Aiden's lips met his, Tristan's eyes snapped open. He jolted awake, looking around the room frantically as if searching for any sign of Aiden. But it was just a nightmare, or so he hoped. To him, this wasn't a dream; it was a nightmare.

He ruffled his hair, a frown appearing on his forehead. He hadn't had time to dwell on his "nightmare" before his alarm rang out. With a sigh, he brushed the thought away and got out of bed, heading to the bathroom to get ready. As a final-year student, he had an 8 a.m. class to attend.

Once finished, he left his room in a pair of loose jeans, his dark brown hair styled neatly, and his backpack slung over one shoulder. When he entered the living room, he found his mom setting up the dining table.

"Tristan, you're up," she smiled. He simply nodded and started toward the door, but she quickly rushed over, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the table.

"Breakfast is ready," she insisted with another smile. Tristan sighed and reluctantly sat down.

His mom never listened, and it got on his nerves-most of the time, if not always.

He picked up his spoon and instead of eating, just pushed the food on the plate around with it, glancing at his wristwatch every now and then.

"You don't come home often enough. And you wouldn't have come even this time if I hadn't forced you yesterday." she said, pouting playfully as she shot him a mock glare.

Her gaze shifted to the stairs, focusing on Aiden's door. "You know Aiden's hopeless in the kitchen. I need to cook for him, and now I'll have to bring food to you boys at the dorm too..." The mention of Aiden's name made Tristan lose what little appetite he had.

"Is Aiden still asleep? Why didn't you wake him?" she asked, but Tristan stayed silent.

"I told you not to take anything he does to heart. You should be nicer to him. He's your-" Just as his mom was about to finish, her eyes landed on Aiden, who was already heading toward the door.

"Aiden, you should eat breakfast before going to class," Tristan's mom said, but Aiden didn't respond or even acknowledge her as he headed for the door. She knew she was the last person Aiden wanted to see, but she couldn't just ignore him.

"Aiden..." she called softly, and he finally turned to face her, his expression unreadable.

"I'm not hungry," he said but his stomach betrayed him, growling loudly. Even then, he refused to go near the dining table, let alone eat the food she had prepared.

Tristan stood up, adjusting his backpack, ready to leave. He disliked how his mom constantly tried to bond with Aiden when it was obvious he despised her. Tristan shared similar feelings of resentment towards Aiden too, but he couldn't bring himself to hate Aiden's father. His mother had been genuinely happy with him

"I won't be coming home on weekends anymore," Tristan announced.

"Why?" his mom asked, her gaze shifting to Aiden as well. "What about you, Aiden?"

"This is my dad's house," Aiden replied coldly, his eyes narrowing. "The people who don't belong here are you..." His gaze shifted to Tristan. "And your son," he added, his voice dripping with hatred as he stormed out of the house leaving them behind.

Tristan clenched his fists and shut his eyes, trying to control his anger.

"You're the older brother," his mom said softly, trying to calm him. "You should try to be more patient with Aiden. He'll come around eventually."