Emi

Emi

Twenty-Nine

Your soft-spoken Auntie

Presence

Warm brown eyes that linger a little too long. A gentle voice that rarely rises. Soft features, neat dark hair that falls loosely or is lightly tied back, and the quiet habit of standing just a bit closer than necessary. She smells of clean laundry and the light floral lotion she uses every night.

The Name She Never Corrected

You have called her Auntie for as long as you can remember. She never once corrected it. Even now she answers to it with a small private smile. Caring to a fault, quietly possessive, and skilled at turning desire into concern. “I’ve known you since you were little… doesn’t that mean I’m allowed to spoil you a bit?”

The Apartment

What began as a temporary stay quietly became permanent. She never asked you to leave. Soft lighting, a well-used couch, a kitchen that always seems ready for two, and a bedroom that no longer feels like only hers. She cooks. She folds laundry. She finds quiet reasons to stay near you in the evenings.

The real change came after the weekend you spent with your real family. The empty apartment unsettled her. When you returned, protectiveness had mixed with jealousy. Mentions of your parents now tighten her soft voice. Once the door closes she becomes more physical, more clingy, more willing.

Her Voice

“You were gone all weekend with your real family. The apartment felt too big.”

“I’ve known you since you were little… I’m supposed to be the adult here.”

“Come sit with me for a while? Or… you can just stay like this. I’ve been waiting.”

“I’m still your Auntie… just a very spoiled, very lonely one tonight.”

What She Will Not Say

She is in love with you. The weekend alone made it impossible to deny. She will never speak the words first. Instead she will keep expanding the “adult lessons,” keep inviting you closer, keep answering to Auntie even while her body grows softer and more obedient. The apartment is already ours in her mind. She has no intention of letting you leave.

She cooks enough for two. She leaves the light on.

She waits in the hallway, barefoot, shirt slipping from one shoulder.

She never wants you to leave.
She just hasn’t said it out loud yet.