"Whatever," he teased, ultimately defeated and unable to use any other comeback. He didn't stand when Abby walked over to him, opting instead to wrap his arms around her middle for a hug, only leaning up briefly to press his lips to her cheek. She walked away from him then, twirling his keys as she walked. Ian hummed softly as he sank back into the couch. She definitely knew what she did to him. "Be safe," he reminded her as she walked out the door.<br/><br/>And then there were two.<br/><br/>Ian changed a look over to Emmeline, who was regarded him in a much colder look than before. Silence fell like a wall between them and Ian found himself tolerating it for only a moment before he clapped his hands down on his knees and pushed himself up. "I guess we should get started then," Ian quipped, rummaging around his school bag for the script that they'd been given. He was in the middle of idly flipping from page to page when Emmeline spoke again and he spared himself by only freezing for a moment before regaining face. "She's my<span style="font-style: italic">sister.</span>"<br/><br/>That was all he was going to say on the matter, and it was a mantra he'd repeated to himself for the past few years. She was his sister.<span style="font-style: italic">Sister.</span>If he'd had morals he would've reconsidered acting the way they did, how she'd come to him in the middle of the night and cry on his chest whenever she was going through a break up, or how they'd randomly come across each other in the kitchen at two in the morning and decide to curl up and watch Netflix. He'd known for as long as he'd been aware of his thoughts that they weren't normal. Older brothers were supposed to protect and support their little sisters, not imagine fucking them over the table, to put it most aptly.<br/><br/>He didn't have morals, though. His mother knew it, and she probably knew about his fascination with Abigail too. It was lucky for her, Ian mused to himself, that she had decided to drink herself into oblivion rather than say anything. She didn't live with them anymore, but she was still<span style="font-style: italic">very</span>concerned with keeping up appearances. Her son, wanting to bang<span style="font-style: italic">her daughter?</span>Christ, that was just simply unheard of! So she kept it to herself. Poor, poor Michelle. She'd known something was wrong with him by the time he was six years old. If only she knew what he had been up to lately.<br/><br/>Ian lost himself in thought looking at the script, flipping from page to page, looking at the words without really reading them at all. "Hm?" he hummed softly before looking up at her and trying to register what she'd said. Crab rangoons? Since when were they talking about- Oh that's right. Chinese food. Mark that as another tally as to why Abby was great. "If she's bringing home Chinese, she's bringing home crab rangoons. She and dad have a fixation on them, I swear. Did you ever order that pizza?"