#and whenever no one else is looking she's just like😇😇@elliot

[hb-writes]

Elliot and Emma: “It’s been fun. We’ve had a good run, but you parked in my spot. I’m going to have to kill you now.”

Because I love them and desperately need fluff.

"It’s been fun."

Emma looked up from her book as her brother strode onto the pool deck at their parents house. It wasn't warm enough yet for a true pool day, but the sun made it warm enough to lounge poolside in a pair of jeans and a sweater.

"What's been—?" Emma began, only for Elliot to cut her off as he continued.

"We’ve had a good run, you and I," he mused. "Some days, I even thought you were my favorite sib—"

Emma snorted. "Of course I'm your favorite—"

"—but then you went and parked in my spot..." he said, stopping at the foot of Emma's lounge chair as she rolled her eyes, preparing herself to defend her choice of parking, which had been a purposeful decision, figuring that since she was the first one to arrive home, she could park wherever she wanted, traditions be damned.

"AndI’mgoingtohavetokillyounow.”

Elliot's final sentence came out quickly enough that it allowed no room for Emma to explain herself and could barely be considered a warning. As h said it, he removed the paperback from his sister's hands and pulled Emma up in his arms, tossing her into the pool barely a second later. Her sharp, affronted screams were brief, lasting only until her head dunked beneath the surface of the frigid water.

Emma gasped as she emerged at the water's surface a few seconds later. She surged out of the water with astounding speed, scrambling to her feet as she climbed onto the deck.

"I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!" she shouted, chasing after her brother as he headed back towards the house and the only protection he could think of—their mother's steadfast rules.

They had never been allowed in the house straight out of the pool when they were dripping wet and Elliot figured there was no way in hell Grace Trevelyan-Grey would allow it now. His mother would never risk the beauty of her hardwood floors so one of her children could exact revenge...even if that revenge was possibly a tiny bit deserved.

Elliot was right about the floors. And he was right about his mother being a stickler for rules, so he felt safe as he stood in the kitchen, watching his drenched and shivering sister approach the wall of french doors, but Elliot had forgotten something important.

He'd forgotten his mother was a doctor. He'd forgotten that she would never leave her baby soaking wet out in the cold. He'd forgotten that she'd without hesitation bring her child inside and coddle her and warm her, doing all of those things while she chastised her eldest son who "should've known better than to toss his sister in the cold water."

And he'd forgotten how infuriatingly devious and charming his youngest sister could be, and how she'd milk the situation for all it was worth, playing up her discomfort and complaining to anyone who would listen about what Elliot had done.

And while Emma hadn't come remotely close to killing Elliot as she had so vehemently promised as she exited the pool, her revenge was somehow worse because before the day was through, Elliot had been lectured at least six different times about the stupidity of his actions, all while Emma got coddled and doted on, her car still parked in his precious parking spot, the one he'd claimed when she was still learning how to ride a bike.

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