My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 109: Eating Me Alive

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The morning air hit my cheeks like ice, making me tug fruitlessly at the neck of my turtleneck, wishing I could just disappear into it. I heard the front door shut behind me, and even before I turned, I could tell it was him. Adrien had this way of filling the space around him...a quiet, heavy presence that always settled over me before he even said anything.

He stayed silent at first, just walking past me with his keys in hand, his jaw set tight. Each step felt charged with a frustration that twisted my stomach. I followed him down the driveway, partially because I needed to get to school, but mostly because I sensed he wasn’t done silently critiquing the sweater clinging to my neck.

He opened the driver’s side door and paused to look over the car at me. His face was hard to read, but his voice cut through the air.

"Get in," he said flatly.

I blinked. "What?"

"I’m giving you a ride to school." No pleasantries, no softness. He just leaned against the door, almost challenging me to argue.

I hesitated, running my fingers along the collar of my sweater again. "You don’t have to. I can wait for Gigi..."

"I said get in, Noah."

...Well, damn.

The way he said my name, it was quiet, loaded with feelings he wouldn’t show made my breath catch in my throat. I swallowed, finally opening the passenger door and sliding in. He didn’t start the car right away; he just stared ahead, his knuckles white around the steering wheel.

The silence felt unbearable, it was thick and buzzing, like static in my chest.

By the time he finally backed out of the driveway, I was a bundle of nerves, sitting stiffly with my hands clasped like a kid waiting for a lecture. I kept sneaking glances at him, but he was so still, too still. His were eyes fixated on the road, jaw tense, a vein bulging at his temple.

He wasn’t yelling or teasing...he wasn’t even breathing heavily.

He was just... angry.

And I still had no idea why.

Guilt crept over me slowly, like water seeping under a door. I hated it. I didn’t owe him an explanation. I wasn’t in the wrong. Ethan was my boyfriend. Yet, Adrien’s silence... it made my chest tight, like I had broken some unspoken rule I hadn’t even agreed to.

Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "We didn’t... um... go all the way, you know."

Adrien didn’t react right away. He just blinked, eyes still fixed on the road, the muscle in his jaw twitching. I couldn’t tell if he was irritated or just holding back.

I cleared my throat and tried again. "Things just escalated a bit. We were at the mall; it wasn’t planned. We were just... alone. One thing led to another."

My voice trailed off, and I focused on my hands, twisting my fingers until they hurt.

"I’m not asking for your approval," I added quickly, even though I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince. "I just didn’t want you to think I... I don’t know. That it was a huge deal."

Finally, I noticed a shift in his expression. His grip on the wheel tightened, brows knitting together as if he was holding something in.

He still wouldn’t look at me.

But when he spoke, his voice was low and rough. "Why are you telling me this, Noah?"

I swallowed hard, caught off guard.

"I... I don’t know," I admitted, feeling the truth hit hard, I didn’t understand why I felt the need to reassure him. Adrien’s silence suffocated me more than Vanessa’s insults ever had. I didn’t know why that angry look in his eyes made me feel guilty, like I had some explaining to do.

All I knew was that the air felt charged between us in a way I wasn’t ready to define.

Adrien’s grip on the wheel tightened again, as if he sensed it too.

He sighed deeply as he turned onto the main road, and somehow, that simple sound rattled me more than if he’d shouted. I shifted in my seat, fingers grazing the stiff collar of my sweater again. Now, it felt suffocating...warm and itchy, way too revealing despite covering everything.

"I don’t get why you’re so mad about it," I finally said, my voice trembling even though I tried to sound firm. "I mean... I’m my own person. I can get hickeys from whoever I want."

The words came out more defensively than I intended, and I mentally kicked myself, but I pushed on because the silence was driving me mad.

But the way his hands clenched the stirring wheel, I think I might have said something wrong.

"I know you’ve been... looking out for me lately," I said carefully, avoiding his gaze, "and I appreciate it. I really do. But I’m not a kid, Adrien. I can handle myself. And Ethan is a good boyfriend. Whether you like it or not."

There it was. Out in the open. My chest tightened as I braced for his reaction, expecting an explosion or a scoff. But instead, Adrien’s grip on the wheel loosened, fingers flexing before he glanced at me, his dark eyes unreadable.

"That’s why you think I’m mad?" he asked, his voice low, almost surprised.

That threw me off balance.

"Well... yes," I said gingerly. "What else would it be?"

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he sighed again, this time softer as if letting out some tension he didn’t want to face. He turned his head slightly, as if he wanted to look at me but thought better of it, returning his focus to the road.

"Right," he muttered. "There is no other reason for me to be mad."

But he didn’t elaborate, which only frustrated me more. I was trying to piece together the puzzle of his attitude, why he seemed off, why I felt guilty for nothing.

The silence that followed was thick, awkward, making my pulse race against my throat. I kept stealing glances at him...at his tense jaw, the line of his neck, the veins in his forearms gripping the wheel and each time, I looked away quickly, embarrassed.

Then, out of nowhere, Adrien let out a gentle huff that almost sounded like a laugh.

"So this is the look you’re going with today?" he said, flicking his eyes toward me briefly. "This big, suffocating turtleneck? You look like it’s trying to eat you alive."

I burst out laughing, shocked, relief mingling with embarrassment so quickly I couldn’t help it.

"It’s fine," I protested weakly, batting at the collar. "It’s... cozy."

"You look like shit," he shot back, smirking.

"Oh, shut up," I groaned, reaching over to swat his arm without thinking.

He jumped slightly, surprised, then actually laughed, and that sound made something warm and confusing unfurl inside me. I pulled my hand back quickly, feeling my face heat up again, but he still wore that infuriatingly smug grin.

"Chill out, Hamster," he said. "I’m just saying... if you’re trying to hide something, maybe don’t wear a sweater that looks like it’s planning to swallow your head."

I jabbed him again, gentler this time and he chuckled, shaking his head as if I were the ridiculous one.

And despite everything...the hickey, the awkward chat, the stifling sweater, I found myself laughing too, unable to suppress the silly smile tugging at my lips.

For a moment, things didn’t feel tense or complicated.

For just a moment, it felt like the silence had cracked open enough for us to breathe again.