A bucket of cold guilt was thrown over Alfie and he immediately sat up. "What, Maisie... no. I could never be mad at you," he promised. He was mad at himself, always would be, but never once had it occurred to him to be mad at his sister. The moonlight streaming in his uncovered windows was just bright enough for Alfie to see the gentle slop of Maisie's breast under her shirt and he felt himself grow thicker in his sleep pants. Fuck.
"I'm just tired, yeah? That's all. Come here..." Laying back down, Alfie pulled Maisie a little closer, careful not to press against her and give away his secret. "Tell me about your dream, okay? I'm listening."