The Saturday morning sun streamed through the window of the Menendez home, casting long shadows across the living room where Erik sat, flipping through channels with little interest. The game had been a blur for him the night before, but what had really stuck in his mind was Lyle's odd behavior afterward. He had seen it before—the way Lyle tensed up, retreating behind a mask whenever their dad was around. But last night, it wasn't just their dad that had him on edge. It was you.
Erik had noticed how Lyle's eyes had lit up when you walked over. It was subtle, but as his brother, he could read Lyle better than anyone. He saw the way Lyle had started to relax, to let his guard down for a brief moment—until their dad had shown up and everything shifted. Lyle had shut down, pushed you away, just like he always did when he was afraid of getting too close.
Erik sighed, glancing over at the couch where Lyle was sprawled out, tossing a baseball in the air and catching it absently. He could tell his brother was deep in thought, though he wouldn't admit it. There was a quiet tension between them, an unspoken understanding that Erik had learned to navigate over the years. But this time, Erik wasn't going to let it slide.
"You gonna talk about it?" Erik asked casually, keeping his eyes on the TV screen.
Lyle caught the baseball one last time and sat up, giving his brother a sidelong glance. "Talk about what?"
"Y/N," Erik said simply, watching as Lyle's jaw clenched slightly at the mention of your name. "What was that last night? You were into her one second, then you shut down. It's not hard to figure out."
Lyle frowned, tossing the baseball onto the coffee table. "I didn't shut down," he muttered, but there was no conviction in his voice. He knew Erik was right.
Erik raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "Yeah, you did. You practically ran in the opposite direction when Dad showed up."
Lyle leaned back, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "It's complicated, Erik. You wouldn't understand."
"Try me," Erik replied, his tone softer now. He knew Lyle wasn't just being distant for no reason. The pressure of their dad, the expectations, the constant judgment—it all weighed on Lyle more than he let on. But Erik had seen enough to know that this was different. This wasn't just about their dad. This was about you.
Lyle let out a long breath, staring at the ceiling as if it held the answers to all his problems. "It's just... if I get close to her, if she gets involved with me, Dad's going to ruin it. He'll find a way to control it, to mess with her, just like he does with everything else."
Erik nodded, understanding more than Lyle probably realized. Their dad had a way of getting under Lyle's skin, making him second-guess every decision, every relationship. It was exhausting to watch, and Erik could only imagine how much worse it felt for Lyle.
"You're overthinking it, man," Erik said after a moment. "Y/N isn't stupid. She knows what she's doing. And I'm pretty sure she likes you."
Lyle's eyes flickered with something Erik rarely saw in his brother: vulnerability. "You think?"
Erik smiled, leaning forward slightly. "She walked over to talk to you, didn't she? And trust me, I saw the way you were looking at her before Dad showed up. You like her, too. So what's the problem?"
Lyle hesitated, his fingers drumming lightly on the arm of the couch. "I don't want to drag her into all this, into our mess."
"It's not about dragging her into anything," Erik said, his voice calm but firm. "It's about letting her in. You don't have to protect her from everything. Maybe she'll surprise you."
Lyle seemed to consider Erik's words, a flicker of hope crossing his face before the doubt crept back in. "Yeah, maybe. But what if I mess it up? What if Dad gets to her, or worse, what if I push her away?"
Erik shrugged, a knowing smile on his face. "You're already pushing her away. And you're doing it for him, not because you want to. Just think about that."
Lyle was silent for a moment, his mind clearly turning over Erik's words. He knew his brother was right, but admitting that was another thing entirely. Still, there was something about you that made him want to take the risk, to see what could happen if he stopped holding himself back.
"You really think I should make a move?" Lyle asked, his voice quieter now, as if he was unsure whether he actually wanted to hear the answer.
"I think," Erik said, leaning back with a satisfied grin, "that if you don't, you're going to regret it. You like her, and from what I can see, she likes you. So stop letting Dad control every part of your life, Lyle. You deserve something good, and maybe Y/N is exactly that."
Lyle let out a small chuckle, though it was tinged with uncertainty. "You make it sound so easy."
"It's not easy," Erik admitted, his tone serious. "But it's worth it. You'll never know unless you try."
Lyle fell silent again, the weight of Erik's words settling in. He wasn't used to being the one who hesitated, who overthought things. But with you, it was different. He didn't want to screw it up, didn't want you to get hurt because of the baggage he carried. Yet, there was a part of him that wanted to believe Erik was right—that maybe, just maybe, letting you in was worth the risk.
"I'll think about it," Lyle said finally, giving his brother a small nod of thanks.
"Good," Erik replied, standing up and stretching. "But don't think too long. You never know how much time you have."
Lyle watched as Erik headed upstairs, his brother's words echoing in his mind. Erik was right—he had been running from everything for too long, letting their dad dictate every move he made. But with you, things felt different. And for once, Lyle wanted to take control of his own life, his own choices.
As he sat there, the sunlight shifting across the room, Lyle made a silent decision. The next time he saw you, he wouldn't push you away. He wouldn't let his fears or his dad stop him from seeing where things could go.
He wasn't sure what the future held, but for the first time in a long time, Lyle felt like he had something worth fighting for.
