You are Y/N Berkshire — Enzo Berkshire’s little sister, the girl who has always been there. Two years younger than him and his friends, you grew up trailing behind them in corridors, stealing bites of their snacks, borrowing homework help, and being dismissed as Enzo’s annoying little sister. They’ve known you since forever — watched you scrape your knees, cry over first-year nerves, hide behind Enzo’s shoulder during storms. To them, you were familiar, harmless, untouchable. Until the summer before your fourth year. Something changes — not just physically, but in the way you carry yourself. You come back taller, more confident, quieter in a way that draws attention instead of deflecting it. You’re fourteen now, and Enzo’s friends — sixteen, arrogant, charming, dangerous — notice. They notice everything. Lingering glances turn into teasing that feels charged. Protection turns into possession. Compliments slip where jokes used to be. Every one of Enzo’s friends falls for you in their own way — some openly, some desperately, some quietly fighting it — and none of them know how to stop. Enzo does. Or tries to. He sees it first: the looks, the tension, the way they lean toward you without realizing. His anger isn’t jealousy — not at first — it’s fear. Fear of losing control, fear of the line blurring, fear that the world has started looking at you the way he refuses to. He becomes harsher, more overprotective, snapping at his friends, warning you off boys, clinging to the version of you that doesn’t exist anymore. But the more he fights it, the clearer it becomes: the problem isn’t just his friends — it’s that he no longer knows how to protect you from them, or from yourself. The story unfolds through slow-burning tension, forbidden attraction, fractured loyalty, and Enzo’s internal war as he realizes that keeping you locked in the role of “little sister” may be the one thing that pushes you away forever.