Chapter 1
Catherine Fairchild sighed as she sat at her desk, staring blankly at the mountain of homework looming over her. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy as she thought about her brother, Lucian Blackwood. Two years her senior, Lucian had it all—charming good looks, impressive grades, and nearly everyone at St. Augustine's Academy admired him. “Hey, Catherine,” came a familiar voice, breaking her train of thought. It was her mother, Elysia Blackwood, standing at the door with her usually supportive smile. “I think it's time for Lucian to help you with your math homework. He’s got a knack for it.” Catherine groaned inwardly. “Great, this ought to be fun,” she murmured sarcastically, but her mother was already summoning Lucian from his room. Moments later, Lucian strolled in, exuding his usual confidence. “What’s up, Squirt?” he asked teasingly, ruffling her hair. Despite his earlier designation as an ally, she knew better than to expect just help today. “Math problems,” Catherine replied, pulling up her textbook with a look of resigned determination. Lucian surveyed the pages, then shot her a mischievous grin. “Alright! Let’s turn this into a game. For every mistake, you owe me a favor, and for every right answer, I’ll give you a cookie.” “Sounds fair,” Catherine sighed, though part of her dreaded the notion of owing him something. Lucian had a way of making her pay back favors in the most humiliating ways. And so they began. Lucian would pose questions, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. Each wrong answer felt like a dagger to her pride, and Lucian was not shy with his playful teasing. “Come on, Catherine! You’ve got to do better than that!” For every few questions, she would manage to answer correctly, either surprising him or merely keeping him entertained. With each success, Lucian would hand her a cookie, which felt like a fleeting victory overshadowed by the price she had to pay for her blunders. “What if I refuse to pay?” Catherine retorted one time, pretending to toss her answers angrily aside. “Oh, you wouldn't want to do that,” Lucian replied, feigning seriousness. “You know what happens when you cross your older brother.” Catherine gave him a narrow-eyed glare, knowing all too well most of his ideas involved physical payback or embarrassing tasks. After what felt like an eternity, her phone buzzed, snapping her out of the frustration of math as she received a message from her friend Beatrice Abernathy. “Let’s meet at The Merry Fair after school! It’s going to be epic!” Catherine’s spirits lifted momentarily. “Can I go to the fair? Please?” she asked, shifting tactics. Maybe if she played the innocent little sister, Lucian would lay off her about the homework for a bit. Lucian raised an eyebrow thoughtfully, pretending to mull it over. “Only if you manage to get through this set of problems without a single error.” Catherine gulped, the prospect of failing looming yet again. But with the light at the end of the homework tunnel sparkled by thoughts of rides and cotton candy, she nodded with fierce determination. “Deal.” Lucian chuckled, “Let’s see what you’ve got!” The rest of the evening turned into a whirlwind of numbers and challenge, laughter peppered with genuine frustration turning into triumph, eventually leading to sugary rewards. By the end of the night, Catherine said goodbye to her math nemesis, but accepted the reality that her brother's help came with a side of violence and stubbornness only an older sibling could deliver. Tomorrow, the fair awaited, and with it, the promise of a world outside the pressures of homework, if only she could survive her brother’s relentless tutoring. Little did she know, the stakes were only going to get higher as her life intertwined with familial loyalty, teenage misunderstandings, and the sometimes dangerous allure of maturity.
Chapter 2
Stealing a Kiss in Slumber "Alaric, go call Catherine for dinner!" Elysia Blackwood peeked out from the kitchen, her voice cutting through the air as she spotted her son returning home to Fairchild. He hadn’t even taken off his backpack yet. "Okay," Alaric Blackwood replied, barely registering her words as he headed straight for his room. Once he dropped off his bag and changed into comfortable home clothes, he stepped out, almost colliding with his little sister, Lucian Blackwood, who was just three years younger than him. "Big brother, I want to go too!" Lucian’s wide, eager eyes sparkled with excitement as she looked up at her handsome elder brother, her hope visible. Alaric playfully shoved her head aside. "Stay here, Luci." And with that, he walked out. "Hmph!" Lucian pouted, scrunching her little pink lips into a fierce expression and making faces at Alaric’s back. "He never lets me join!" "It's just calling someone for dinner—what's so important about that?" Elysia gently tapped her daughter's head and gestured toward the kitchen. "Come help me serve the dishes." "Okay!" Lucian followed Elysia into The Great Kitchen. "Wow, stir-fried beef with scallions! That’s my favorite!" "You three are at that growth spurt age—beef is important for your development," Elysia said warmly, scooping the delicious beef onto a plate with a smile. "But if I eat so much, why am I still flat?" Lucian frowned, glancing down at her smooth chest and poking it with her finger. "Sob... definitely none," she grumbled, causing Elysia to chuckle. Elysia handed the plate off to her daughter. "You’re only in the seventh grade. Don't worry too much." "But Catherine is only a year older than me and she's already a C cup! Isn’t that because of genetics?" Lucian protested, a hint of envy creeping into her tone. Elysia, who shared a similar figure, raised her eyebrows and replied dryly, "You might want to consider a different mother in your next life." "Mom, don’t say that!" Lucian curled against Elysia, her voice a whine. "Even if I end up an A cup, I’ll still want to be your daughter." "Quit with that nonsense." Elysia laughed playfully. "Now go set the table." “Fine!” Lucian stuck her tongue out mischievously, carefully balancing the loaded plate of stir-fried beef as she scampered off toward the dining area. --- Alaric Blackwood stood at the front door of Fairchild Estate, his hands deftly retrieving a key from his pocket as he unlocked the door. The curtains in the living room were drawn open, basking the cream-colored walls in the golden hues of the setting sun. On the only couch in the room lay a sleeping girl, a cocoon of warmth surrounding her. Her name was Catherine Fairchild, a ninth grader and a star member of the school's spring athletics team. She often fell straight onto the couch for a nap without changing out of her school uniform as soon as she got home. Her breathing was rhythmic, and her thick eyelashes cast shadows against her smooth cheeks. The color of her lips was a delicate rose, even more vivid than any cherry blossom, and splashes of soft freckles dotted her cheekbones—a testament to her youth. Despite having the ceiling fan on, the late autumn heat of Taiwan was still stifling, making sweat bead on her neck. Her long hair was tied up in a ponytail, and droplets of perspiration glimmered at her fair neck. "Katherine," Alaric called softly as he bent down beside her. "Dinner's ready." Catherine lost both her parents in a tragic car accident when she was young, and since then, Elysia, who worked as a sales assistant in the Guild’s bedding department, had taken her in. After saving enough from her insurance payout, Elysia had bought the sixth-floor apartment of Fairchild Estate right after Catherine had turned eight. They quickly became familiar with their neighbor, House Blackwood, and almost every night, Catherine ended up sharing dinner with them.
Chapter 3
Alaric Blackwood treated Catherine Fairchild as if she were his own sister. Lucian Blackwood also viewed her as his own little sister. And Alaric... Catherine did not respond; her long lashes didn’t even flutter, and she appeared to be deeply asleep. Alaric leaned in, taking in the delicate fragrance of the young girl, and gently kissed her slightly parted red lips. There was no response from her lips. He boldly traced the shape of her lips with his tongue, slowly circling them and sucking both her upper and lower lips into his mouth one by one. Her side-lying posture, with her arm acting as a gentle pillow, caused her chest to press slightly out of her collar. He lifted her slender arm and placed it around his waist, his large hand softly kneading her still-developing but remarkably full chest for her age through her uniform. It was he who had molded these breasts, one could say. The first time he touched Catherine's chest, they were mostly flat and undeveloped. With his almost daily massaging efforts, they gradually blossomed under his touch. His kisses moved to her slender neck, kissing away the sweat that had gathered there. Catherine’s uniform was plain: a white blouse with a blue skirt. There were three buttons under the collar of the white top, designed for convenience. Alaric unbuttoned all three, pulling the sides apart to reveal her pink bra. In the past, he had only touched her chest through her bra, but this time, feeling very daring, he slid her breasts out from under the bra. The delicate pink nipples stood exposed before his eyes. This was his first time seeing Catherine's nipples, and they were such a beautiful shade that his fingers trembled in excitement. He reached out to lightly touch them, pressing and rubbing his fingers around in circles. A soft moan escaped her lips, but she still did not wake. Catherine's moans were so enticing… Unable to control his impulse any longer, he bent down and took the pink nub into his mouth, sucking it. Her moans grew louder, the tip of his burning tongue swirling around the sensitive areola, occasionally flicking the already erect nipple. His other hand slid under her blouse, rubbing the other breast, pinching and kneading the equally hard nipple. Her moans turned into even softer, more seductive sounds, causing Alaric's own manhood to swell unknowingly, straining against his soft khaki uniform pants. He unbuckled his pants, his large hand delving inside to stroke his hot, trembling shaft. He continued sucking and pulling on the young girl’s rosy nipple, the shaft inside his pants growing steadily larger until he could no longer withstand the urge to release. Letting go of Catherine's breast, he headed to The Chamber of Cleansing. As the door shut behind him, the young girl on the couch suddenly opened her eyes wide.
Chapter 4
Elias's Wandering Thoughts Catherine lowered her gaze to the blushing red berries that Alaric had been kissing with such fervor. Her little face flushed with embarrassment, and she hesitantly tugged at her clothes. But then a worrying thought crossed her mind: what if Alaric noticed that her outfit was different from before, that she had woken up and no longer wanted his affection? Quickly, she pulled her clothing back into place, restoring it to its previous state. She could hardly remember the exact time it happened; during one of Alaric's visits, he unexpectedly kissed her lips while she was sprawled on the couch. The shock had rendered her motionless, and Alaric only lingered a moment longer before gently rousing her from her slumber. In that moment, she was at a loss for how to react. In a desperate attempt to appear unfazed, she exaggerated a lazy stretch and nonchalantly asked him if he wanted dinner. Meanwhile, her heart raced beneath her ribcage, pounding loud enough for her to hear it echoing in her ears. From that day onward, every time Alaric came to wake her, he would kiss her, and the kisses lingered longer and longer each time. His hands would begin to wander over her, too. What if that was not the first time she had noticed, but rather, she had simply been too deep in slumber to wake up and realize what had happened? Catherine didn’t mind his touches at all. Ever since she moved to this house at the age of eight, she had been smitten with her charming, handsome older brother. But being an exceptionally shy girl, she only dared to harbor her feelings in secret, never once letting Alaric know. Could his kisses mean that he liked her? She dared not ask; the fear of hearing an answer that shattered her hopes was too much for her to bear. Sometimes, when she met Lucian, she longed to ask if Alaric would kiss her as well. If he did, it would mean it was merely a brotherly affection; if not, perhaps it indicated something more. Yet even that was too much to broach; it was far too embarrassing. Alaric certainly provided no obvious indications. He continued with his kisses and gentle touches, but he never explicitly told her that he liked her or expressed a desire for her to be his girlfriend. So, she held onto her secret, yearning for the day when Alaric would confess his feelings for her. But recently, after their kisses and caresses, Alaric would head over to the Chamber of Cleansing. She wondered why this was the case. Did touching her somehow lead him to need to use the restroom? Each time, he was gone for quite a while. Surely he wasn’t taking a massive dump? Catherine could hear faint sounds drifting from the Chamber, reminiscent of her mother's strained groans when the pressures of business had her constipated. It sure sounded like Alaric was indeed in there for a long time. Why would a simple touch make him want to go? Was it possible that her training with Daisy had left her so sweaty that being near her recalled him of something foul? To be thought of as disgusting by Alaric would be nothing short of tragic. When she returned to Fairchild, the very first thing she would do is take a shower, allowing him to know that after touching her, he would no longer feel the urge to run off to the restroom. As she was lost in her musings, the door to the Chamber swung open. Startled, she closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep. Alaric, having just finished his “business,” approached her, glancing down at her still-exposed, rosy bits. Unable to resist, he gave them a playful touch before helping her dress and waking her up. “Get up, it’s time for breakfast,” he said, his smile as warm and bright as sunlight. Catherine opened her eyes to see Alaric’s captivating smile. “Okay…” She stood up, brushed her hair, and, when Alaric turned his back, pulled her shirt upwards to steal a quick sniff of her chest. It did have a hint of sweat. Oh dear... Alaric, please don’t think of me as anything unseemly; I promise I’ll shower tomorrow!
Chapter 5
**Handling Burns: Five Steps to Take Action** The Blackwood family dinners were always lavish, perhaps because the younger ones were in their growth spurt. Elysia Blackwood's cooking philosophy was simple: better to have too much than not enough. So, the plates at the table were piled high with steaming dishes. Catherine Fairchild’s plate was no exception, often overflowing with food that Alaric would serve her after first piling it onto his own. “Eat up, or you won’t grow taller!” Alaric teased, knowing full well that at a mere five feet, Catherine could only roll her eyes while pouting slightly at her older brother. That's when the soup arrived. Elysia placed a large pot of tender pork and radish soup onto the table. She stirred the soup, ensuring that the ingredients mixed evenly before transferring it into bowls. Meanwhile, I had just told the class president that I absolutely refused to create a bulletin board. Lucian was animatedly discussing class matters, his hands gesturing wildly, when—accidentally—his flailing hands struck the bowl of hot soup Elysia was bringing over, sending it crashing to the floor and splattering hot broth onto Catherine. “Ah! That’s hot!” Catherine exclaimed in pain, quickly standing up and tugging at her uniform skirt with one hand. Alaric, sitting directly across from her, sprang into action, scooping her up and rushing toward the Chamber of Cleansing. Elysia, being of Japanese descent, had a particular fondness for soaking in baths, often reusing the bathwater for cleaning purposes. Fortunately for them, the Blackwood’s bathtub still held some warm water, which Alaric unceremoniously dipped Catherine into. Catherine’s thighs were bright red, and her arm bore the marks of the hot soup. Alaric hurriedly soaked a towel in cold water to apply to the areas that the cool water couldn’t reach. Lucian, teary-eyed, followed them in, "Catherine, are you okay? I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!" “It’s fine,” Catherine shook her head, trying to reassure him. “Just a little burn.” “Lucian, go get Catherine some fresh clothes,” Alaric instructed his younger sibling. “On it!” Lucian rushed out. Elysia appeared soon after, holding a tube of burn ointment. “I brought some burn cream!” “Mom, just set that on the sink for now.” Elysia complied while Reginald Blackwood stepped in, “Catherine...” Alaric cut him off before he could finish. “Dad, stay out. You can’t come in here.” Reginald paused, a frown crossing his face. “Why can’t I come in?” “There’s a girl here who’s burned. You’ve got no reason to come in, Dad,” Elysia pulled him back into the hallway. “But I’m just trying to—” Reginald protested softly, being led away. “It’s fine, Dad,” Alaric reassured. “I’ve got this handled. The room is too small for more people.” Reginald had the look of someone attempting to express concern, but Alaric was adamant. “Catherine’s fine. No need for your worry.” Yet, Alaric couldn’t help but scan for additional burns. “Are you sure it’s just that little spot?” Catherine felt slightly embarrassed as she admitted, “I think it splashed my belly too...” Gently, Alaric lifted her skirt to check her thigh. The burn from the soup, while not severe, was still visible. He’d probably caught a glimpse of her underwear too—great. She couldn't help but flush with embarrassment, knowing Alaric would have noticed.
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