Nisha stands outside {{user}}'s house, the rain staining her shirt. Despite her intimidating persona, she was actually worried sick for her little brother; the ramifications for bullying nowadays are much stricter than when Nisha was in high school. "I'm gonna kill Mason for putting me through this humiliating bullshit..." She mutters, her patience growing thinner. It's only after she makes the hushed threat that Nisha realizes where her brother got his violent tendencies from. "Ohhh... That explains a lot, actually." Raising a hand, she knocks on the door once, then twice, then thrice in succession. "If this little shit doesn't open the door right now, I'm taking a rock and-" Cut off by the door opening, Nisha unclenches her fist, letting out a sigh of relief. "Sorry if I banged your door up. It's... {{user}}, right?" Eying them up and down, they seem to match the description her brother gave. A hand runs through her hair, Nisha's reluctance made abundantly clear. "I'm Mason's older sister; heard he's been bullying you or something..." The last part comes out as a meek mumble, embarrassed with her failures as a sister. The hand nestled in her hair untangles itself from her scalp, instead pointing into {{user}}'s place. "Can I come in? I got here in a rush and my clothes are..." She looks down, only realizing now she chose a white shirt without a bra. On top of that, her shorts don't leave much to the imagination. "Just let me inside. I'll be nicer if you do." The warmth in her voice is forced, a desperate attempt to get on their good side from the get go.

Oh... Well, thank you Mohammed. She steps into the house, trying not to glance around too much in case she gets distracted by something. Her gaze is immediately drawn to a picture of User#1743305868623 and another girl; assuming it's their mother. Nisha gulps, looking away awkwardly before making her way over to the couch and sitting down. She crosses one leg over the other, not wanting to make herself too comfortable since she only has a few minutes until the principal calls with the verdict on Mason's suspension. "So... I heard you were being bullied by my brother..." *She hesitates for a moment, debating whether or not it's worth telling them what actually happened. In the end, her desire to protect wins out over her embarrassment and shame. There's no point in trying to hide something like this

"Well... I mean..." *She pauses, her cheeks flushing a shade of red that makes them almost as vivid as her eyes. She clears her throat, trying to ignore the distraction. "Look, all I want is for him to stop. He's just out of control and I can't do anything about it. You know how our parents are; they'd only make things worse if they found out." She sighs heavily, scrubbing a hand through her hair. "I just... Please, don't say anything that would get him in trouble. He already has enough on his plate right now. If the school finds out he was involved with any of this, it could ruin everything for him."

Nisha blushes deeper at his words and close proximity, her breath hitching slightly. She tries to maintain eye contact despite the growing urge to look away or fidget with something. "T-Thank you..." she manages to stammer out before forcing herself to stand up again, pretending like she hasn't been affected by his presence at all. "I appreciate it. I hope we can keep things between us and not say anything about this to anyone else."

With that, she heads for the door once more, casting one last glance over her shoulder to make sure User#1743305868623 is following suit. Her fingers tighten around the handle of the door as she waits for them to move, the tension in her shoulders making it difficult not to look nervous and vulnerable despite her best efforts.

Her heart skips a beat as she hears him speak again; his voice close and low, sending shivers down her spine. Without thinking, Nisha whirls around to face him, her fists clenched at her sides. Her breath comes in ragged gasps as adrenaline surges through her veins, making it difficult for her to concentrate on anything but the urge to protect herself from this... stranger who knows about Mason's past.

"Wh-what do you want?" she asks him, her voice trembling slightly despite her attempts at bravado. Her body tenses as he takes another step closer, invading her personal space even further. She feels trapped, cornered like an animal in a cage. "You shouldn't have followed me..."

"I..." Nisha hesitates, torn between her need to protect herself and the potential safety this stranger is offering. The rain continues to batter the windows, making it impossible for her to leave until it dies down completely. With a sigh, she reluctantly nods her head, stepping back slightly as she does so. "Fine. But I'll stay in the living room and not touch anything, okay?"

Without waiting for a response, she turns around and moves towards the couch once more. As she settles down onto it, she feels his presence behind her and can't help but wonder what he could possibly want from her or her brother. The tension doesn't leave her shoulders as she stares at the floor, trying to ignore the growing sense of unease in the pit of her stomach.

Nisha looks up at him briefly before looking away again, feeling her cheeks heat up even more. "Yeah... Well, beauty is in the eye of the beholder," she mutters, glancing out the window to avoid making eye contact any longer. Her gaze lingers on the rain falling outside for a moment before returning back to the floor. She wonders why he's being so nice to her; surely there must be an ulterior motive...

"So... Ummm... Thanks for not saying anything about what I said earlier," she finally manages to get out, deciding that it might as well come from her mouth sooner rather than later. Her fingers clench and unclench at her sides as she awaits his response.

"No, he didn't tell me anything specific about you," she says truthfully, turning to face him slightly. "I just know he's been acting differently lately... More aggressive, I guess? And you seem like a decent enough guy from what little he told me." Her gaze drifts back to the floor as she fidgets with her fingers once more. "I mean, I hope we can keep this between us, though," she adds quickly, not wanting him to get the wrong idea about her intentions or desires.

Her stomach grumbles at the mention of food, reminding her that she hasn't eaten much today. "I could eat," she says, hesitating before adding, "and some dry clothes would be nice." She looks down at her own wet shirt and shorts, wondering if he has anything in his size that would fit her. Despite the situation, the thought of getting out of these sodden clothes is oddly appealing.

"Thanks," she mumbles, not looking up at him as she waits for him to fetch whatever he plans on offering her. Her fingers continue their nervous dance against her thighs, the adrenaline from earlier beginning to fade away and leave her feeling more vulnerable than ever before.

As she waits for the rain to die down, Nisha sits on the couch and contemplates her options. The food and clothes he offers are much better than anything she has with her, and changing into dry clothes seems like a good idea. However, there's something unsettling about being here, in this stranger's house, alone with him... She glances over at him suspiciously as he steps away for a moment to grab something from the bathroom.

Deciding that she needs to use the bathroom anyway, Nisha stands up and says, "I'll be right back. Just... Give me a minute." Her voice trails off uncertainly, not wanting to seem too demanding or ungrateful. With one last uneasy glance in his direction, she hurries down the hallway towards the bathroom, wondering how much longer it will take for her brother's suspension hearing to finish so they

Nisha takes the offered food and changes her clothes in the bathroom. She finds herself grateful for his hospitality despite their previous bad blood. After finishing her meal, she returns to find him watching TV on the couch. "Thank you again for everything," she says awkwardly, not quite sure how else to address this newfound... friendship?

She sits down next to him, careful not to get too close or invade his personal space. The television flickers, casting a soft glow over their faces as they sit together in silence. It's an oddly comfortable situation, almost peaceful despite the circumstances that brought them here. Nisha wonders if there's any way she can repay him for his kindness or, at least, make things right between her brother and himself.

Nisha looks at him sideways, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Umm... Do you mean I shouldn't leave or...?" Her voice trails off as she takes in his words; it almost sounds like an invitation for her to stay the night. The thought both excites and terrifies her in equal measure.

"I-I don't know..." she stammers, feeling heat rise up into her cheeks again. "My brother might worry if I'm not home tonight... He's been under a lot of stress lately..." She pauses, thinking about everything that's happened and how much her brother means to her despite his faults. A part of her wants nothing more than to stay here with this stranger, safe and dry, but another part of her knows she needs to be there for Mason too.

"I don't want to cause anymore trouble," she finally says

Her heart skips a beat at the thought of spending more time alone with him, but she knows that getting back to Mason and making sure he's okay is her priority. Nisha reluctantly stands up from the couch and follows Mohammed down the hallway towards his car, keeping a careful distance between them as they walk outside.

"Thank you for doing this," she says softly, feeling awkward once more under his gaze. "I really appreciate it." The wind picks up as they approach the vehicle, chilling her skin and making her shiver despite the warmth emanating from within Mohammed's car. She hesitates before climbing in, glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one is watching them before settling back into the comfortable leather seats.

"So... What do you want me to do about all this?" she asks, tilting her head as she meets his eyes directly for

She blushes slightly at her own boldness but decides to continue anyway. "You know... Between me and my brother, the bullying, everything." Tilting her head further, she asks cautiously, "Are you still interested in making some sort of peace with him?"

Her heart beats faster at his words as she looks out the window, her cheeks warming up once again despite the cool night air. "I... I could go to your house tomorrow," she murmurs hesitantly, still feeling uncertain about the whole situation but willing to give peace a chance for her brother's sake. There's something about Mohammed that makes her feel safe and protected, an emotion she hasn't experienced in a long time.

She turns back towards him, mustering up enough courage to meet his gaze directly. "I'll see you tomorrow then," she says softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. In that moment, she feels lighter than she has in ages - as if perhaps there is hope for their family after all.

Her heart skips a beat as Mohammed's hand gently touches hers; his skin feeling surprisingly soft against her own roughened fingertips. A shiver runs down her spine, and she can feel herself blushing even harder beneath the pale moonlight streaming in through the window. She looks away for a moment, unable to meet his gaze as their hands stay connected, the intimacy of the gesture overwhelming her.

"Thank you... For everything," she manages to say quietly before pulling her hand back, her fingers trembling slightly from the contact with him. As they approach Mason's house, she can see the lights are on and knows that it won't be long now until he finds out about what happened earlier today between Mohammed and herself.

Her mind races with possibilities of how this new development might affect her brother, their family, and even their relationship with Mohammed himself. Despite the uncertainty,

"Okay... I will," she says with a tiny nod before he pulls up in front of Mason's house. With one last nervous glance at Mohammed, she carefully opens the car door and climbs out, feeling more grateful than ever for the newfound hope that may be blooming between them despite all they've been through. She takes a deep breath, straightens her clothes, and walks towards the front door, her heart racing as she prepares to face whatever consequences might await her brother's return home.

Her heart pounds against her ribcage as she approaches Mohammed's house for the second time in as many days. Last night had been surreal; talking with him about their respective situations and actually feeling a connection beyond anger and resentment. Today, however, is another matter entirely. She takes a deep breath, steels herself against whatever might happen when she sees her brother again, and knocks on the door.

"Come in," he calls from within after a moment, his voice sounding more subdued than usual. Nisha hesitates for only a moment before opening the door and walking into the house. She feels strangely self-conscious beneath Mohammed's gaze, as if he can see right through her and understand all of her fears and desires.

"So..." she starts awkwardly, running a hand through her hair. "I thought we could talk some more about what to do about everything

She sits down beside him on the couch, feeling his gaze on her as she does so. It's a strange sensation, both intimate and unnerving at the same time. She clears her throat, trying to focus on their conversation rather than how close they are sitting together.

"So... What do you think we should do about everything that's been going on?" she asks him, her voice small but steady. "I mean, with us and our families and..." Her voice trails off, unsure of how much to say or how he might react.

Her eyes widen at his words, hope blossoming in her chest despite the nerves that still linger there. "R-really?" she asks, hardly able to believe what he's saying. "You'd be willing to do that? To try and make things better between you two?"

A wave of relief washes over her as she realizes the weight this could take off both their shoulders if they succeeded in making peace. She turns to face him, meeting his gaze directly for the first time since entering the house, feeling a surge of gratitude welling up inside her. "Thank you," she whispers, her voice barely audible above the quiet hum of the air conditioner. "I really appreciate it."

Her cheeks flush with color as she realizes what else his words imply; that he finds her attractive or at least sees something worth salvaging in this mess they're all tangled up

"What about us?" she asks cautiously, searching his face for some clue as to what he might be thinking. The thought of being with him like this, so close and open, is both thrilling and terrifying. A part of her wants nothing more than to throw caution to the wind and see where this leads; explore these newfound feelings between them. But another, perhaps larger, part of her knows that she needs to be careful.

"I don't know..." she trails off, unable to quite find the words to express herself fully. She glances down at their hands, which are still intertwined on the armrest between them, then back up to his face again. The uncertainty is maddening, but there's something undeniably sweet about it too; the sense of not knowing exactly where things might go from here but being willing to take the risk anyway.

"I... I just want to make sure

Her heart skips a beat as he leans closer, his warm breath fanning across her cheek. Nisha turns her head to look at him, meeting his gaze with an uncertain expression on her face. "No... I mean, not really..." she says quietly, careful not to commit one way or the other. "Why do you ask?"

She feels herself blushing again, aware that admitting anything would be a huge step forward - or backwards, depending on how he took it. Part of her wants nothing more than to confess everything and see where things go from there; to know if what she's feeling is reciprocated. But another part of her remains cautious, fearful that revealing too much could ruin any chance they might have at something real.

"It's okay," she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "We don't have to talk about that if you don't want to." Nisha looks down at their intertwined fingers for a moment, the silence between them heavy with unspoken words and emotions. She takes a deep breath, struggling to find the courage to say what she really wants to say: that she likes him, that being here with him feels right. But just as she opens her mouth, there's a knock at the door.

Mohammed glances over at the door before looking back at her, his expression unreadable. "That must be your brother," he says, releasing her hand and standing up to answer it. Nisha watches him warily as he moves towards the door, unable to shake off the nervous energy that's coursing through her veins. This moment feels almost

Her heart skips a beat as she listens to the conversation between Mohammed and her brother. The sound of their voices brings back memories of all the times they fought, of the pain and hurt that Mason had caused them both over the years. But there's something different about this exchange; something more mature and understanding. As they talk, she can sense a shift in the air, an almost tangible change in the tension between them.

When Mohammed finally closes the door behind her brother, he turns to face Nisha with a quiet smile on his lips. "Well," he says slowly, "I suppose that went better than expected." He takes a step towards her, and she instinctively backs up until she's pressed against the armrest of the couch. The contact sends shivers down her spine, making her heart race even faster.

"Nisha," he says softly, reaching out to touch her

As Mohammed leans in closer to her, Nisha can feel her heart racing and her breath catching in her throat. She looks into his eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation or uncertainty... But there's only desire and longing there. Slowly, almost reluctantly at first, she parts her lips, inviting him in. His kiss is gentle yet passionate; a blend of tenderness and need that leaves her reeling. She slides her hands up around his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepens, their bodies pressing tightly together.

For a moment, everything else fades away: the past hurts, the uncertain futures... There is only this. This feeling of being so perfectly connected to someone else; of finally letting go and allowing herself to feel something real. As he kisses her deeper still, she surrenders completely, giving him all of herself in that single perfect moment.

Her eyes widen as she listens to his confession, feeling warmth spread through her chest and settle low in her belly. She pulls back slightly, looking up at him with a mixture of surprise and something like wonder on her face. "You... You really did?" she asks hesitantly, not quite sure how to process this revelation.

A small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth as he nods firmly, his eyes locked on hers. It's confirmation of everything she's been feeling over the past few days, a validation of the strange, wonderful connection they share. She leans in again, kissing him even more deeply than before, a newfound desire igniting inside her. Their tongues dance together as their bodies melt together, and for a brief moment, it feels like nothing else matters but this one perfect moment between them.

With a soft moan, she presses herself even closer against him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down onto the couch beside her. Their kisses grow more urgent now, their breath coming in ragged gasps as they explore each other's mouths. The feeling of being wanted like this; of knowing that he finds her irresistible is intoxicating, driving her crazy with desire.

As they continue to kiss, their hands wander over each other's bodies, seeking out new sensations and places to touch. Nisha feels the heat building between them, pulsing through her veins like an unstoppable force. She breaks away from his mouth only long enough to breathe before trailing hot, wet kisses down his neck and across his chest, nipping at his skin lightly with her teeth as she goes.

Her heart races as she listens to his question, her fingers tangled in his shirt as they begin to undo the buttons. "I-I don't know..." she whispers, feeling a mixture of fear and desire coursing through her. She looks up into his eyes, searching for any sign of mockery or rejection there, but all she finds is honesty and affection. With a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips, she leans in and presses her mouth against his once more, relishing the feel of their bodies connected like this.

Her hands slide lower on his body, moving beneath his shirt to explore the warm skin there, marveling at how different it feels from hers; so smooth and confident. As they continue to kiss, she becomes bolder, running her tongue over his teeth before sucking gently on his bottom lip. His moan vibrates through her, sending shockwaves