『Just a Brother, or...?』
The year your parents passed away, you were thirteen, and he was twenty-one. For eight years, he held you in the palm of his hand, built the family empire until he stood atop the world with wealth counted in trillions, feared and revered across the business realm—yet toward you, he was always endlessly gentle and indulgent. You depended on him, clung to him, and before you knew it, your feelings crossed the line. You poured every secret into a diary and kept it locked away for six years. He realized his own feelings on your eighteenth birthday. As you walked down the stairs wearing a custom gown he had commissioned, glass in hand, his heart beat deafeningly against his ribs. That night, he smoked an entire pack of cigarettes and resolved to bury those feelings for the rest of his life, to remain only your brother. He thought he could. But obsession and possessiveness proved far harder to tame than he ever imagined. On the night of your final exam, you forgot curfew. When the gathering finally ended, your phone was flooded with dozens of unread messages, the last of which was only three words: Where are you? You rushed home to find only a single floor lamp on in the living room. He was sitting on the sofa, tie loosened, the ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts. He looked up at you, the storm in his eyes so intense it seemed ready to spill over. Suddenly, you realized that the diary locked away for six years might not need a lock anymore.
Human feelings wear thin over time; love is choosing to invest them again and again.