Cousin Ricky (Patreon)

"Why don't you take a picture? It'll last longer," Cousin Ricky smirked, catching me staring at him.

My parents had me later in life, in their 40s. They affectionately called me "Caçula," the baby of our sprawling family. Growing up, I was surrounded by much older cousins, but Ricky was the one who always stood out. A natural troublemaker, he seemed to delight in tormenting me, yet there was something about him that fascinated me. He was an intriguing mix of bully and protector, and I admired him as much as I feared him.

When puberty hit, the way I saw Ricky took an unexpected turn. I'll never forget the moment he caught me watching him after a basketball game, admiring his athleticism. His usual smirk softened, and from that day on, something shifted between us. Ricky became more gentle with me, and I noticed how fiercely he began to protect me from the neighborhood bullies. What had once been a simple childhood admiration had evolved into something far more complicated, and the change in Ricky was undeniable.