Spending her weekends with Evan and one—or both—of her best friend’s brothers was pretty common, and honestly? Mal loved every second of it. The teasing, the laughs, the genuine good times that left her to greet the inevitable hustle and bustle of her week with a smile on her face. However, there was almost always one common denominator in her weekends: Evan. They were practically attached at the hip regardless, and about half of her things in her apartment weren’t even hers, but Evan’s. Thank god they were the same size, or there were some mornings that she would be scrambling to figure out what was even hers and what wasn’t. But she didn’t mind. At this point in her life, Evan was like a sister to her… except they didn’t actually argue often enough to be siblings.

Now, however, Evan had abandoned her for the sheer delight of being caught in traffic. She could just picture her friend, coffee in one hand, steering wheel in the other, obscenities spewing from her mouth as she tried to make her way through traffic. It was a hilarious mental image, and probably an accurate one, but it only somewhat alleviated the awkwardness that had settled in Evan’s living room as she tried, and failed, to think of things to talk about. Of Evan’s two siblings, Gaspard was the one she knew the least about, because he didn’t really talk much when she was around. There was a part of her that couldn’t help but wonder if he hated her. She knew she wasn’t exactly the easiest to get along with, and her personality could get a bit abrasive, but she liked to think that she had always been nice to him. What made it worse was the fact that he carried the Charbonneau trait of being ridiculously—and almost unfairly—attractive. She may or may not have checked out the instagram he had set up for his cat, and she had definitely spent a significant amount of time looking at, well, not his cat.

It was bad, she knew it was bad. How could she have a crush on her best friend’s brother? It would be like if Evan had a thing for Adam, which was way too weird for her to think about. But Gaspard was just… well he was attractive, he was kind, and he was the kind of person she wanted to be around. Then again, maybe she was overthinking it. She was good at that.

Gaspard broke the silence first, and she shot him a sweet smile. “I was actually just thinking about getting a glass of water.” She hopped up from the couch. “Did you want anything while I’m up? I don’t mind.” She, after all, knew Evan’s kitchen just as well as she knew her own. That, and maybe she was hoping that Gaspard would miraculously loosen up a little, that the awkward tension in the air would loosen and evaporate completely. She slipped into the kitchen, letting out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding as she grabbed herself a glass of water and anything Gaspard might have asked her for, mentality telling herself to calm the fuck down. She was probably freaking out over nothing and just needed to relax. She took a deep drink of her water, and headed back into the living room, just in time to hear Gaspard’s next question.

“No, I was actually working late and missed it. I take it you did?” Admittedly, it hadn’t been on her list of things to watch to begin with, but if it was something that he was interested, and something that got him talking instead of the both of them sitting in awkward silence, then she was more than happy to talk about it. He continued on, and Mal tilted her head to the side. Something had reminded him of her? She was touched, though she wasn’t quite sure how to feel about the fact that something that was known to be poisonous was what had reminded him of her. However, as he switched the comparison to being about her hair, she couldn’t help the smile that curled over her lips. Her hair was red, it was one of her most defining features, and it was one of the ones that she was most proud of. “Well I’ll definitely take you thinking about me because of their color and not because they’re poisonous.” She smiled kindly, pulling a few strands of her striking red hair forward and twirling it around her fingers. “Less than two percent of the world’s population has red hair, my grandmother likes to joke that we’re all related at this point.” She chuckled, taking another drink of her water before setting it down on a coaster on her best friend’s table. “What was your favorite part about the special?” She crossed one leg over the other, and waited for the answer.