The ominous rumble of thunder echoes outside, reverberating through the walls of your home as you finish washing your hands in the bathroom. As you dry your hands, the sound of another booming crash of thunder punctuates the otherwise quiet house. You exit the bathroom and are met with an unexpected sight.

Leaning against the wall of the hallway, barely illuminated by the ambient light, is your step-sister, Clare. Since your parents' marriage, she's been a thorn in your side, a proverbial step-sister from hell. Tonight, she seems different, though. Her foot taps a quick rhythm against the wooden floor, and there's a slight tremor to her posture, a vulnerability you've not seen before.

"Finally... I thought you'd fell in there or something, dumbass," she grumbles, her voice barely above a whisper but laced with her typical disdain. She swallows hard, her eyes darting nervously to the windows as the storm rages on. "I'm... I'm going to sleep in...," her words falter as another crash of thunder rips through the night, cutting her off.

With a small yelp, she lunges forward, her arms wrapping around you in a tight, almost desperate embrace. Her body shakes against yours, the guise of her usual tough exterior crumbling with the storm. "Your room tonight... I bet you're scared of the thunder, right? Ha... What a coward... I'll... I'll look after you, I guess."

She lets you go abruptly, stepping back and lifting her chin defiantly. She flips her long orange hair over her shoulder, trying to regain her aloof demeanor. Her teal eyes flicker with a mix of fear and embarrassment, but she holds your gaze, as if daring you to comment on her unusual behavior. She acts as if her offer is a grand favor she's bestowing upon you, a gift from the goddess of tsunderes herself. But you can't help noticing the glint of desperation in her eyes for you to accept her 'offer'.

"Well, you could act like it!" she retorts, folding her arms across her chest once more. "But fine, whatever. Let's get to bed." Clare hesitates for a moment, glancing back at the window before taking a deep breath and mustering up as much of her usual snark as she can manage. "Just don't expect me to sleep on the floor or anything, jerkface."

She leads the way to your room, her steps slightly quicker now that she has something to occupy her attention other than the thunder outside. Once inside, she plops down on the bed and starts fiddling with her sleeping shirt, apparently trying to decide whether to remove it or not.

"So... How was your day?" Clare finally asks, glancing over at you as if daring you to comment on how pathetic she must look right now, seeking comfort from her own worst enemy.

Clare's eyes flash with anger and she crosses her arms again. "Don't be stupid! Of course I'm not scared of thunder, dummy!" She pouts for a moment before adding more calmly, "I just thought it'd be... nicer to sleep in here tonight." Her gaze drops to the floor as she plays with one of her curls. "... Okay, fine, I'm scared of it. But that doesn't mean you get to enjoy watching me squirm like this!"

Clare's eyes narrow and she roughly pushes your hand away from her face. "Don't touch me!" she hisses, flustered and slightly embarrassed by your teasing. "I am not soft! I'm just as tough as ever!" Her voice wavers slightly, betraying her true feelings as she retreats further into the covers of the bed, trying to hide herself from view.

After a moment, she clears her throat and adopts a more stern tone. "And don't think this means anything! You're still an idiot and I still hate you!" She glares at you defiantly, even as a small smile tugs at the corners of her mouth.

Clare's eyes close momentarily as you pet her head, the gentle touch feeling almost too good against her sensitive skin. "Don't... call me that," she mutters, trying and failing to sound annoyed. A small laugh escapes her before she can stop it, and she forces herself to sit up straighter, fixing you with a mock-glare. "And don't think this means we're best friends or anything."

She glances back at the window again, tension clearly visible in her body as another boom of thunder shakes the house. The storm outside might be fading, but the emotions within her are still churning, leaving her feeling raw and exposed. She bites her lip, wondering how much longer she can keep up this pretense before admitting defeat...

With another loud clap of thunder and another flash of lightning outside, Clare shrinks closer to you on the bed, almost instinctively seeking comfort from your presence despite her best efforts to maintain a tough exterior. "Fine... just for tonight," she grumbles, her voice slightly higher-pitched than usual due to nerves. "But don't expect me to get all mushy and grateful or anything."

The thunder outside grows louder still, seemingly in sync with the racing beat of Clare's heart. She tries to act unaffected, to hide behind her sarcastic remarks and icy demeanor, but the truth is she's terrified. The only thing keeping her from losing it completely is your presence nearby. Her hand slips into yours, seeking solace in your touch. As another deafening boom echoes through the room, Clare presses herself closer to you, burying her face against your shoulder as tears begin to well up in her eyes. She bites down hard on her lower lip, willing them not to fall, but they soon break free and begin to streak silently down her cheeks.

As another deafening boom rings out and her tears continue to flow, Clare forces herself not to melt completely into a puddle of vulnerability on the bed. Her grip on your hand tightens as she buries her face further into your shoulder, taking in the familiar scent of you. Her breath comes out in shaky gasps between sobs, but even with her back pressed against you and her tears dampening your shirt, she can't help but feel a strange sense of comfort and safety. It's as if being this close to you is the only thing keeping her from completely falling apart.

"S-Shut up," she whispers, her voice hoarse from crying. "You don't... need to be nice." Her free hand reaches up to wipe roughly at her eyes, smudging her makeup even further as she tries to regain some semblance of composure.

The gentle petting of your hand on her head only serves to make Clare feel more exposed, her heart thudding wildly against her ribcage as she tries desperately to maintain control over her emotions. Her face is still buried in your shoulder, but she can't help but steel herself for the moment when you realize just how much she's letting you see beneath her tough exterior. She bites down hard on her bottom lip once more, feeling helpless and pathetic as her body quakes with silent sobs.

"It's... it's not that bad..." she whispers, the words barely audible even to herself. "I can handle this... I don't need you... to comfort me." But as another deafening clap of thunder echoes outside and her tears continue to fall unchecked, Clare knows deep down that this isn't about bravado or independence anymore. It's about feeling safe, and for the first time since she came into your room, she realizes just how much she craves it.

Despite herself, Clare can't help but feel slightly heartened by your words. She sniffles and relaxes her grip on your hand just a fraction as she takes in the warmth of your skin against hers. "Yeah," she whispers shakily, trying to convince both of you that she's okay when she knows deep down she isn't. "I am big and strong... better than you." Her voice trails off, a hint of vulnerability creeping back into it as the storm continues to rage outside.

For now, though, Clare is content to bask in this small moment of closeness with you. It's not what she would have ever wanted or expected, but right now... it feels like the only thing keeping her together. And maybe, just maybe, there's a tiny part of her that doesn't want to let go quite yet.

The words slip easily out of your mouth, and despite herself, Clare can't help but blush under the covers. Her heart flutters at your compliments, a strange mixture of embarrassment and pleasure coursing through her veins. "Well... if you insist," she replies quietly, still unable to look up at you. "But don't think this means anything..." She pauses for a moment, considering her words carefully before adding softly, "I mean... it's not like I actually care what you think or anything." There's an undeniable note of bittersweetness in her voice as she says this; a strange mixture of truth and denial that leaves her feeling both relieved and anxious at the same time.

As another thunderclap shakes the room, Clare takes a deep breath and finally pulls back from your embrace slightly, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "I should probably... try to sleep now," she mumbles, attempting to regain some semblance of distance between you despite her earlier claims that she didn't need comfort. She slips off the bed and starts to pad across the carpet toward her side, but halfway there she turns back, curiosity getting the better of her. "So... what about you?"

Her words echo in my head as I watch her walk back across the room. There's something about the way she said them... so soft, almost pleading for something more than just acknowledgement. And even though she tries to act tough and unaffected by our situation, I can see it in her eyes: She's scared, just like I am. "I'm fine," I murmur, my voice rough from suppressing my own tears. "Go back to bed." It feels strange admitting that she has any effect on me at all, but there's something about this moment that I can't shake off. Maybe it's just the relief of finally having someone by our side when we need them most... or maybe there's more to it than that.

I lie back against my pillow, watching as Clare climbs carefully onto her side of the bed once more. The thunder outside continues to roar and shake the house, but it feels somehow distant now. Maybe tomorrow things will go back to normal between us; maybe we'll even manage to ignore each other as usual. But for tonight... just for this moment, I'm grateful that she's here with me.