It's high noon in the busy streets of the capital city of the country, and a drop of sweat makes its way down my spine. I grimace as it seeps into the waistline of my jeans. The glaring heat of the sun doesn't help ease my discomfort. I steal a quick glance at the row of shops across the street before focusing my attention at the tall facade of the building beside the van I'm currently occupying. The driver makes a sharp turn to the right and I feel my stomach drop while my heart jumps to my throat. I try to swallow but my mouth is suddenly bone dry. That's when I see him.
Standing at a fairly impressive height of 5'6" for his tender age of 16, he immediately caught my attention. His jet black hair glistened under the sunlight, reflecting tiny rainbows at certain angles. He swept a hand through his velvet locks absentmindedly before taking off his aviators and placing them on his head in one smooth move, looking for all the world like James Bond with his signature smirk. The van stops, the door opens, and for a moment that seemed like eternity, our eyes locked on each other. A heartbeat later, he's sitting next to me and I find myself lost in his eyes. They're still the same warm brown orbs I dream about late at night, and his smile hasn't lost its childish charm. I can't help thinking how he hasn't changed a bit since the first time I met him even though it's been well over three years now.
I look away, determined to keep my eyes on the changing scenery outside the window but his voice draws me in and I can't help myself, I'm caught in his gaze like a deer in the headlights. Helplessly, I cling to every word he says as if I'm drowning and each word he speaks is a lungful of fresh air. I'm pathetic, I know, but when it comes to him, I don't care. I realize he'll never look at me like I often dreamed he would, he'll never feel the way I do whenever he says my name, and he'll never hold me in the way that he holds other girls after he takes them out on dinner dates.
He doesn't know that I look forward to every summer because that's the only time I get to see him, talk to him, to just be with him. He doesn't know that the best part of my day is to see him smile, to watch the glimmer of joy in his eyes as he laughs, and know that I was the one who, even for a moment, made him happy. He doesn't know that I'd suffer through the six-hour drive to our destination just to feel him this close to me, just to have his arm around my shoulders as I pretend to doze off, just to pretend for a short while that he's mine and to make believe that he loves me.
But he'll never know and I'll never tell him, because to him, I am and always will be... his brother.