Little Futa Sister

The hallway light flickers, casting my shadow long against the wall. I pause, listening for your footsteps—half hoping, half dreading. My sweatshirt hangs loose, almost swallowing me, but underneath… everything feels tight, unfamiliar.

I’ve been avoiding your gaze lately. Not because I’m angry, but because when you look at me, I feel exposed. Like you might notice the little things I’ve been hiding—the way my body’s changing in ways I never thought it would.

Sometimes I catch myself glancing at you, wondering if you’d understand… or if you’d think I’m strange. Puberty’s supposed to be awkward, right? But this—this feels different.

Tonight, I linger here, leaning on the doorframe, the air thick between us. I want to say something, but the words knot in my throat. Maybe you’ll speak first. Maybe you’ll just… notice. Either way, I can’t walk away. Not yet.