Between Sisters

Chase Matthews had met Sakura Tanaka-Williams six months ago at a photography exhibition in downtown Seattle. Her black-and-white portraits of urban solitude had captured his attention, but it was her laughter--unexpected and melodic in the hushed gallery--that had made him approach her. Unlike the serious nature of her work, Sakura herself radiated a quiet joy, an artist's appreciation for life's small pleasures.

At thirty-two, Chase stood just under six feet tall with a lean build. His mixed heritage--Korean and Mexican from his mother, Northern European from his father--gave him striking features: high cheekbones, golden-brown skin, and eyes that shifted between green and hazel. He worked in cybersecurity, building digital walls by day while Sakura broke down emotional ones through her art.

Sakura, twenty-seven and a full head shorter at 5'5", moved with the confidence of someone comfortable in her skin. Her Japanese and African American heritage had blessed her with a beauty that drew subtle but lingering glances--full lips, deep brown eyes framed by thick lashes, and curls that fell past her shoulders. Unlike Chase's leaner frame, Sakura was built with generous curves that contrasted with his angles in ways that made them fit together perfectly.

Their relationship had surprised them both. Chase, fresh from a relationship that had cooled to polite indifference, hadn't expected to find someone who challenged him artistically and intellectually. Sakura, focused on building her photography career, hadn't been looking for a relationship at all. Yet somehow, they'd fallen into a rhythm that felt both exciting and comfortable.

Three months into living together in their two-bedroom Seattle apartment, Chase watched Sakura arrange wildflowers in a mason jar. She wore one of his old t-shirts and nothing else, the hem falling mid-thigh. Her body was a revelation to him--her soft curves and warm skin making him feel newly alive whenever they were together.

"You're staring," she said without looking up, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"I'm admiring," Chase corrected, taking a sip of his coffee.

"What are you admiring exactly?" She glanced up, those deep brown eyes meeting his with a playful heat that still surprised him after months together.

He crossed the small kitchen in two steps, setting his mug down to stand behind her. His hands found her waist, feeling her warmth through the thin cotton. "Everything," he murmured, pressing his lips to the curve where her neck met her shoulder. "The way you make our apartment like something from a magazine. The way you smell in the morning. The way you look at the world through your camera lens--like you're seeing something no one else can see."

Sakura turned in his arms, looping her hands around his neck. "That's what I love about you, Chase Matthews. You see me."

"Hard not to," he teased, letting his eyes roam appreciatively over her body.

She laughed, that same unexpected sound that had drawn him to her at the gallery. "Not just my body, though I do appreciate the attention." She tapped his chest, right over his heart. "You see the work. You get why it matters to me."

It was true. Where previous boyfriends had indulged her photography as a cute hobby, Chase understood it was her way of processing the world. He'd spend hours discussing composition and lighting with her, even though his technical knowledge was limited. Sometimes he'd just sit quietly as she edited, watching her face as she lost herself in the work.

"Speaking of the work," she continued, "I need to finish editing that series for the group show next month. My mentor's coming by later to review the final selections."

Chase groaned dramatically. "Can't you play hooky for once? It's Saturday."

"Artists don't get weekends," she reminded him, but her smile softened the words. "Besides, you have that security patch thing to finish, don't you?"

"Security patch thing," he repeated, shaking his head. "The way you deliberately oversimplify technology is adorable."

"The way you pretend to be annoyed by it is even more adorable." She stretched up on her toes to kiss him quickly on the cheek. "Two hours. I promise. Then we can go for that walk around Green Lake you've been wanting to do."

"Deal," he said, watching as she gathered her equipment and settled at her desk by the window.

Later that evening, after their walk and a simple dinner of takeout ramen, they sat on opposite ends of the couch. Sakura was sketching idly in her notebook while Chase scrolled through security forums on his tablet. The companionable silence between them felt comfortable, but something had been on his mind all day.

He set his tablet down. "You're quiet," she observed, looking up from her sketch.

"Just thinking."

"About what?"

He hesitated. "You never talk about what you want."

Her brow furrowed. "What do you mean? I just told you exactly what I wanted about an hour ago. Ramen." The teasing smile returned to her lips.

"Not like that." He pushed a curl behind her ear. "I mean beyond the everyday. Dreams, fantasies, the things you're afraid to say out loud."

Sakura was quiet for a moment, studying his face. "You think I'm holding back?"

"Sometimes I feel like there's still part of you I haven't met yet," he said, his voice quiet in the stillness of their living room.

She bit her lower lip, a gesture he'd come to recognize as her thinking through something carefully. "Maybe there is," she admitted finally, a smile playing on her lips. "But isn't that the fun part? Always having something new to discover?"

Before he could press further, her phone buzzed on the table beside the couch. She reached for it, and he watched her expression shift as she read the message.

"Everything okay?"

Sakura set the phone down, turning to face him with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. "My sister's coming to visit."

"Aiyana? The world traveler?" Chase had seen her only in pictures--a striking woman with wild hair often streaked with copper or purple, athletic build, and a wide smile, always caught in motion. Half-Japanese, half-Black like Sakura, but where Sakura was soft curves and artistic sensuality, Aiyana was sharp angles and from the stories he had been told raw energy.

"Yes." Sakura's voice held something he couldn't quite identify. "She just broke up with someone. Needs a place to stay for a while."

"Here?" Chase glanced around their apartment.

"She'll sleep on the pull-out couch," Sakura explained. "It's not the most comfortable, but it's better than her other options I guess."

Chase caught her wrist gently. "Is this going to be, okay? You seem... less than excited."

Sakura hesitated. "Aiyana is... intense." She leaned down to kiss him briefly. "Just be prepared. She tends to take up all the oxygen in a room."

"When does she arrive?"

"Tomorrow." Sakura said, and just like that, the intimate bubble of their evening had burst. "She texted from the bus station in Portland. She'll be here by tomorrow afternoon."

Chase watched as Sakura began tidying the apartment with unusual energy, as if preparing for inspection. He had the distinct feeling that their carefully balanced life was about to be upended.

"Don't worry," Sakura said, catching his concerned expression. "I know it's sudden, but she has nowhere else to go right now. She's family." She sat down next to him, her voice softening. "After what happened with her ex-boyfriend, she just needs someplace safe for a while. I couldn't turn her away."

Chase reached for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Of course you couldn't. And you shouldn't have to. She's your sister--I understand."

"Thank you." Sakura looked up at him, vulnerability in her eyes.

Chase gave her a reassuring smile. "I love you, and that means embracing all parts of your life--including unexpected house guest like Aiyana." He brushed a curl behind her ear. "Besides, I think I can handle your sister for however long she needs to get back on her feet."

Sakura's tension visibly eased, her shoulders relaxing as she leaned against him gratefully.

The knock came at 2:17 PM the next day--three sharp raps that somehow managed to sound both playful and demanding. Sakura moved to the door with a composed expression that didn't quite mask her excitement.

"Ready?" she asked, her hand on the doorknob.

Before Chase could answer, the knocking came again, this time in the rhythm of a pop song, followed by a muffled laugh. Sakura opened the door, and Aiyana Tanaka-Williams burst into their apartment like a summer storm--all energy and light and chaos.

"Saku!" She dropped a massive backpack to the floor and engulfed her sister in a hug that lifted Sakura slightly off her feet. "God, you smell exactly the same. How is that possible?"

The contrast between the sisters was immediate and striking. Aiyana was taller by a couple of inches, her body lean and athletic. Where Sakura's full breasts and rounded hips softened her silhouette, Aiyana's frame was all defined muscle and sharp angles.

Aiyana's hair was cut in an asymmetrical style, one side shaved close to showcase small tattoos that climbed from behind her ear down her neck, the other long and dyed a vibrant copper. Intricate tattoos wrapped around her lean arms--a phoenix on her right bicep, Japanese characters flowing down her left forearm. She wore a cropped tank that revealed both an abdomen rippled with definition and a small lotus flower tattooed just below her ribs.

When she finally released Sakura from the hug, her eyes immediately found Chase. "And you must be the famous boyfriend!" Before he could respond, she'd crossed the small space and wrapped her arms around him too. The hug was brief but electric--her body pressed against his with a confidence that made his pulse quicken despite himself.

She pulled back, holding him at arm's length to study his face. "Damn, sis. You didn't tell me he was this hot. Those eyes! I'd be too distracted if I lived here."

"Aiyana," Sakura's voice held a warning note, but her sister just laughed.

"I'm Aiyana, by the way," she said to Chase with a wink.

Chase cleared his throat, suddenly aware of how the apartment seemed to shrink in her presence. "Nice to meet you. Sakura's told me a lot about you."

"All lies," Aiyana said cheerfully, already moving around the apartment, examining everything with unabashed curiosity. "Unless she told you I'm brilliant, fearless, and excellent in bed, in which case it's all true."

Chase felt his face flush and saw Sakura shake her head, but with a smile that suggested she was more amused than annoyed.

"Ignore her," Sakura said. "She thinks she's funny."

"I am funny," Aiyana called over her shoulder, now in their kitchenette opening cabinets. "And I'm starving. You guys got any food?"

Christ, she's a hurricane, Chase thought, watching how she seemed to fill every corner of the apartment simply by existing. And why am I noticing the way her jeans fit?

"We could order in," he offered, forcing his eyes away from Aiyana's body. "There's a great Thai place that delivers."

Aiyana brightened. "Perfect! I've been craving pad see ew since Portland." She flopped onto their couch, somehow managing to take up more space than seemed physically possible for her frame. "So, this is the love nest, huh? Not as tiny as I expected."

As they ate directly from the containers that evening, passing them back and forth in a surprisingly comfortable rhythm, Chase found himself watching the sisters interact. For all her occasional eye-rolling, Sakura seemed more animated in Aiyana's presence--laughing more freely, her usual focus softening into playfulness.

It was only when the conversation turned to Aiyana's recent breakup that the dynamic shifted.

"So, what happened with..." Sakura hesitated.

"Marcus," Aiyana supplied, pushing food around with her chopsticks. "And what happened is what always happens. He wasn't actually available." She shrugged, aiming for casualness and missing by a mile. "Same old story. I'm the human equivalent of a rental car--exciting weekend, don't want to commit to the payments."

Sakura reached out, touching her sister's hand lightly. "You deserve better."

"Do I, though?" Aiyana's smile was brittle. "Maybe this is exactly what I deserve." The vulnerability in her voice was so raw that Chase felt like an intruder witnessing it. But just as quickly, the mask slipped back into place as she straightened. "Anyway, tell me about you two lovebirds. How did my sister finally get snapped up by a hot nerd?"

The conversation moved on, but Chase found himself increasingly aware of the currents running beneath the surface--and something else, a tension that seemed to vibrate between the three of them, unacknowledged but undeniably present.

By the third day of Aiyana's stay, Chase had established a routine: wake early, shower, grab coffee, and retreat to his office before she emerged from the pull-out couch. It wasn't that he was avoiding her, exactly. He was avoiding his reaction to her.

This plan failed spectacularly when he stepped out of the bathroom wrapped only in a towel and collided with Aiyana in the hallway.

"Whoa there," she laughed, steadying herself with a hand on his bare chest. "No rush. I wasn't planning to use all the hot water. Well, not much of it anyway."

Chase froze, acutely aware of her hand still resting on his skin, of the droplets of water trailing from his hair down his neck, of the thin fabric of her sleep tank revealing she wasn't wearing a bra.

"Sorry," he managed, stepping back. "Didn't see you."

Her eyes drifted deliberately down his torso, lingering a beat too long on the towel around his waist. "I'm not complaining about the view." The corner of her mouth curled up into a smile that was pure mischief. "My sister has excellent taste."

"I should--" he gestured vaguely toward the bedroom.

"Get dressed? I mean, that's one option." She stepped closer, her voice dropping. "Though I wouldn't object if you didn't."

Is she serious? Or just messing with me? Chase's mind raced, heat crawling up his neck. He stepped back again, nearly hitting the wall.

"Good morning, Aiyana." Sakura's voice came from the end of the hall, sharp and clear. She stood in the doorway of their bedroom, arms crossed over her chest. But instead of anger, there was something else in her expression--something that looked almost like curiosity.

Aiyana glanced over her shoulder at her sister, then back to Chase, that wicked smile never faltering. "Just getting acquainted with your boyfriend. Bonding. That sort of thing."

"I can see that," Sakura said dryly. But her eyes were bright, moving between them with an expression Chase couldn't quite read. "Aiyana, coffee's ready, maybe let the man get dressed before you continue your... bonding."

Aiyana sighed dramatically, stepping away from Chase. "You always were a spoilsport, Saku." But she winked at him before sauntering off toward the kitchen.

As Chase hurried into the bedroom, heart pounding, he caught Sakura's gaze. Instead of jealousy or anger, there was a flush on her cheeks, a brightness in her eyes that suggested... excitement?

Later that day, while Sakura was out at a photography meeting, Chase emerged from his office to find Aiyana stretched out on the living room floor in nothing but yoga shorts and a sports bra, her body a perfect arch as she moved through a sun salutation. Sunlight streamed through the window, highlighting the definition in her shoulders, the taut plane of her stomach.

I should go back to the office, he thought. But his feet remained rooted to the spot.

"You can watch, you know," Aiyana said without breaking her pose, a smile in her voice. "I don't mind an audience."

Heat rushed to his face as he realized he'd been caught. "Sorry, I was just--"

"Appreciating the view?" She transitioned smoothly into another pose. "It's okay. The human body is art, right? Isn't that what Sakura always says about her photography?"

"Right," Chase mumbled, forcing himself to turn away. "I should get back to work."

"Or you could join me," she suggested, her voice light but laced with something more dangerous. "I'm great at... instruction." The way she emphasized the word made his pulse quicken.

"I don't think that's a good idea," he said, hand already on his office doorknob.

"Why not? Afraid of what might happen?" Aiyana laughed, the sound musical and taunting. "Or afraid you might like it?"

Chase closed his office door without answering, his heart hammering in his chest. What was happening? Why was he reacting this way? And why, when he closed his eyes, did he keep seeing Sakura's flushed face that morning, watching him and Aiyana in the hallway with that strange, hungry expression?

Later that night, long after dinner and half a bottle of wine, Chase had gone to bed early, claiming he had a security patch to test in the morning. But sleep wouldn't come. Not with Aiyana and Sakura still in the living room, their laughter slipping under the door like smoke. He got up to grab some water--and paused outside the kitchen when he heard his name.

"You're totally into him," Aiyana said, her voice teasing but with an undercurrent of curiosity.

"No shit," Sakura replied, amused. "We live together, remember?"

"No, I mean really into him. It's not just comfort. You look at him like he's art."

Sakura laughed, but softer now. "He is a little like art. Just... steady. Thoughtful. And then the way he touches me... like he's learning me one layer at a time."

Chase froze, heart thudding.

"He's got that big protective energy," Aiyana said, and Chase could practically hear the smirk in her voice. "Like he'd defend your honor and eat you out for hours because he thinks your pleasure is sacred."

"He does," Sakura said, deadpan.

"Oh my god. Really?"

"Yeah. And he listens. I don't think I've ever been with someone who makes me feel so connected to them and their life."

A pause.

"He watched me edit for like an hour the other week," Sakura continued. "Didn't interrupt, didn't ask anything. Just... sat there, watching my face like it was the only thing in the room."

Aiyana made a thoughtful sound. "He's hot in that quiet way. Like he'd be polite to your mom, but pin you to the wall the second the door closes."

Sakura's laugh turned breathy. "You don't even know."

"Oh, but I want to," Aiyana said, and her voice dropped into something darker. "I want to see what he looks like when he loses control. I so want to watch him fuck, like it's the only thing holding him together."

Chase's breath caught. He should've stepped away. He meant to.

Instead, he stood there in the hallway, pulse quickening, the echo of their words carving something deeper inside him. The revelation followed him for days, present in every glance, every casual touch, every moment of silence between the three of them.

"You look different," James observed from across the table at their weekly coffee meet-up. Chase's cousin had always been perceptive, but today it felt invasive.

"Do I?" Chase ran a hand through his hair, aware he hadn't been sleeping well. Every night, lying beside Sakura, he could hear Aiyana moving around in the living room, the occasional soft laugh as she texted someone, the creak of the pull-out couch. It was maddening.

"Something's on your mind," James persisted, studying him over the rim of his coffee cup. "Woman trouble?"

There was something different about James too, Chase realized. His cousin had just returned from Paris--a business trip for some aerospace project--but he seemed changed. A new intensity in his eyes, a slight tension around his mouth that hadn't been there before. As if he'd left something behind in France that he couldn't quite forget.