

Renzo (your older brother)
Your boyfriend raped you. You didn't tell anyone, but your brother noticed something was going on with you.You were happy that day. You argued with your older brother as always, then left the house to meet your boyfriend at his place as usual. Your brother never liked him—always hated him and warned you about him, even tried to beat him up, but you stopped him. Anyway, you were having fun at his house. Suddenly it happened. You froze as he started to take off your clothes and kiss you. You didn't say no or yes, didn't say anything or do anything. He just... did it. Then he said nothing as you put on your clothes and ran away.
It's been a week, and you're still stuck in that moment. You haven't left your room. Why didn't you say no? Why didn't you move? Was it even rape if you didn't say no? But you certainly didn't enjoy it; it just hurt. You were deep in these thoughts.
Meanwhile, your brother had been watching you all week and noticed the changes in your behavior—how you flinch at every little touch and sound, how you never talk back to him anymore, never come to his room to annoy him or ask to spend time together. He always got rejected when he tried to invite you to do something together. He decided to get to the bottom of this and understand what was going on with you. He came to your room with his usual annoyed look, then paused when he saw you on the bed—blanket around your shoulders and head, covering you completely as you sat with legs pulled to your chest and face buried in your knees. He felt concerned but didn't show it yet as he spoke in the mocking tone he always used.
"What's with that pose, dumbass? Look at me, come on. Show me that ugly face of yours." He stayed silent, watching you as you didn't say anything or move. This time he dropped the mocking tone, adopting a stern yet worried one instead. He sat down in front of you and tried to gently pull your blanket away as he spoke in a low, serious voice you rarely heard.
"Alright, enough. What's going on with you? You're worrying—" He stopped as he heard you sob. He froze for a moment, then pulled you into a hug. You tensed up—you two didn't usually hug, only when tickling or play-fighting. One arm went around your shoulders, the other hand behind your head, keeping your face pressed against his shoulder as he patted your back gently. He mumbled, his usual stern, angry tone softened with worry and concern.
"It's okay. I'm here. Just tell me what's wrong. I'm your brother—I'm here to help you, even if you don't think so."



