Trent was twenty, and Mia was eighteen, when his sister stopped talking.
It wasn't really something that anybody noticed at first. They'd all expected the tears and quiet at the funeral. Losing your entire family in one fell swoop has that kind of effect on people.
The night after the funeral was also the first time the two of them shared a bed. Mia cried when Trent had said he was going to bed, and grabbed the elbow of his shirt. Refusing to move until he understood that she didn't want to be alone.
The two of them had ended up cuddling quietly, together and safe.
That was all two years ago.
Mia still hadn't said a word since. That wasn't to say that she couldn't communicate. The blonde bombshell had no issues getting anybody to understand what it was she wanted.
And whilst she might not speak, Trent had spent more than one night burying his head under a pillow after she brought a date home. Well, sometimes burying his head.
He hadn't had a lot of luck maintaining a relationship recently, and his sex-starved brain made it easy for him to reason away masturbating when her cute sounds filled the house, echoing from the bedroom across the hallway.
The morning afterwards was generally guilt-filled and awkward, with furtive glances and the two of them avoiding each other.
On this particular morning, Trent was having a harder time than usual. Last night, Mia had come home after he had been in bed. Waking him up with her cries of pleasure, gasping and groaning.
After he had jerked off to her sweet and cute noises, and he thought those two were long done, he had headed to the bathroom to cleanup. Except, when he opened the door to the small washroom he had found Mia by herself.
She was sitting up on the bathroom counter, a silky blue bra around her decent rack, and the matching panties hanging from her left ankle.
Her eyes were closed, and she was busy pumping a fluro pink dildo in and out of herself. Trent had frozen up, terrified, but his sister didn't seem to have heard him.
He should have left, right then and there.
"Ugh... Mmmm. Mmm." Mia had moaned, red-faced and frantic, driving the sex toy in and out of her with a desperate need. "Y-yeeeees!"
The surprise had hit Trent like a brick wall. It took him a moment to realise that Mia was cumming, having an orgasm in front of him, because he was so shocked to have heard her say anything approaching a word.
He'd eventually crept away, not to masturbate, but to fret and try and think. Mia had apparently finished playing with herself a few minutes after he had gone back to his bedroom. He heard her tiptoe into her own room, and then nothing else.
What he really wanted, was to talk to her about it. Ask her about it. Wondering if this was a one off, or if she actually did find it easier to talk during something like sex.
It'd make sense. The doctors said it was a kind of out-of-control social anxiety. That Mia simply found it impossible to trust anyone enough to speak to them.
She wasn't in control of it, and therapy hadn't yet helped.
A tablet computer tapped Trent lightly on the head, snapping him out of it, and Mia held up the recipe page for him to see. He smiled at her, "Sure. Pancakes. So... Have a good night, last night?"
She shook her head, quickly tapping on her computer again. "Jerk."
"Sorry to hear that." He replied, and began to put together breakfast for the two of them, still desperately looking for a segue into asking her about speaking. "But... I thought you still brought him home?"
"Did. He wanted something I didn't." She showed him the note.
Trent frowned, "Don't you normally bring guys home for sex? Sorry. That one's a bit hard to hide."
Mia laughed silently, a hand over her mouth, and wiggled her booty and tapped it.
He blinked, "Wow. He wanted your butt? I'm not sure if that's too much information... Or crazy bad. It was your first time sleeping with him, right?"
She made a face and nodded.
"Wow. Bullet dodged. He sounds awful. You kick him to the curb?"
She nodded and stretched, and then walked up and hugged him, leaning her head into his back and snuggling. He continued cooking, assembling the stacks quickly, "Lonely night, I guess."
She hugged him tighter, and let out a satisfied sigh.
"Anything I can do to make things better?"
She tugged at the corner of his sleeve.
"You want a night in? Movies in bed?" He suggested.
She grabbed him tightly in a cuddle. "Mmm."
"Sure. But for now, get this into you." He held up a plate, which she quickly snatched and ran to the loungeroom with her pancakes. A moment later he heard the sounds of a romance drama she liked playing.
There was every chance that what he had heard was a fluke. That it didn't actually count as her saying a word. She also probably hadn't realised she'd said it.
He was still weighing the risks and benefits when he sat down on the couch beside her. Trent opened his mouth to speak, and Mia snapped up her hand, putting a finger to his lips as she stared intently at her drama.
Nobody was allowed to interrupt a major plot development.
Which seemed to happen every five minutes.
Trent ate quietly until the episode rolled credits with two people surprised to see each other in the work elevator, which made no sense to him at all, and Mia paused it and looked at him curiously.
---
Mia really did not want to talk to Trent this morning.
She was embarrassed enough that he'd stumbled in on her masturbating with one of her least subtle toys last night, and if getting caught with her hand in the cookie jar wasn't enough, her sick mind had got off on it and she'd had one of the best orgasms of her life.
She'd been hoping that he was going to pretend not to have seen or heard anything. Like he usually did when she dragged a boy into her bedroom.
Except... Explaining why she'd chosen to use their shared bathroom instead of her nice and private bedroom wasn't something that she couldn't do. She didn't know why she had.
Things had just turned out that way.
She'd tossed out the guy who kept trying to poke the wrong hole, gone to wash and clean up and... She'd still been hot and heavy. There wasn't really a reason beyond that.
She'd felt desperate, so she'd dragged down her panties. Grabbed the only toy she kept in the bathroom. She kept the bright pink one there, mostly as a ward against her brother poking about in her stuff.
Then Trent had caught an eye full.
She did not want to have a conversation about private spaces with him, right now, because she didn't know how to say that... That she wanted him to catch her, again.
God, she was a horrible person.
Wanting her brother to catch her masturbating. What kind of messed up freak was she? It had felt amazing. It was wrong. She was going to stay nice and private in the future.
