My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 127: Maybe In Another Universe...Or Whatever

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Even after I told Gigi she was completely nuts, I couldn’t shake off the thought. It lingered in my chest like an unwelcome guest, tapping its foot mockingly, as if to say, "You sure about that, sweetheart?"

Was there...perhaps, in some alternate reality where logic didn’t apply, a chance that Gigi was actually right? That Adrien Fell, my lifelong tormentor, the guy who once tossed a frog in my locker and cracked up while I screamed in shock, was now... in love with me?

The idea was so absurd I actually snorted out loud. But then, because my brain clearly had it out for me, I recalled the look on his face in the woods.

That raw, fiery anger. The way his eyes blazed like I had personally ripped his heart out and stomped on it. It felt... jealous.

And before I could rein in my runaway imagination, it hit me with a daydream so vivid I nearly catapulted myself off the couch. Suddenly, there was Adrien, pinning me against a wall like those overly dramatic K-drama heroes that the housemaids were always glued to. His tall, broad figure completely boxed me in, and, for some reason, his shirt was gone like he’d ditched it for effect. Of course, my imagination had to give him even more muscles, flexing as he leaned down, his breath brushing against my cheek.

His green eyes were burning with that same fierce intensity he sometimes had when he thought I wasn’t looking. Only now, in my fantasy, his voice dropped to a sultry whisper.

"Stop running, darling little hamster," he murmured against my ear, his lips just grazing my skin.

Then, because my brain clearly needed a reality check...he tilted my chin up and kissed me like I was the only person he’d ever wanted.

I gasped so loudly that Gigi actually flinched.

"Holy fuck," I whispered, jerking back to reality hard enough to give myself emotional whiplash. My face felt like it was on fire, and my stomach was doing backflips. I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking my head like a broken robot trying to reset.

What was wrong with me?

Thinking about Ethan like that? Totally normal. But Adrien? That was pure blasphemy.

"Noah?" Gigi frowned from across the couch. "Why do you look like you’ve just seen a ghost without a shirt on?"

"I haven’t!" I yelped, pressing my palms against my burning cheeks. "I mean—I’m fine. Totally fine. There’s nothing wrong with me."

Gigi studied me for a moment, then slowly raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that? Your face is as red as a white dude in the scorching desert, and you’re clutching that pillow like someone

just died."

"I—" I cleared my throat. "My face is red because your apartment is warm."

"It’s not warm."

"Well, I’m warm!"

"Sounds suspicious," she sang under her breath.

I groaned into the pillow again. "Please, let’s drop the Adrien talk before I lose my mind."

"Gladly," she replied, bouncing to her feet with the energy of a hyper squirrel. "Now, movie time."

She marched over to her tiny TV stand, flipping through her DVD collection like she was going through a stack of priceless artifacts. "What’re we feeling? Romance? Action? Comedy? Something tragically awful that’ll ruin your week?"

"Anything," I muttered. "Preferably without shirtless guys pinning people to walls."

She glanced over her shoulder with a smug grin. "So... not a K-drama, then?"

Fuck no.

I tossed another cookie at her.

Her laughter filled the apartment...bright, warm, and familiar and somehow grounded me in a way Oakfield mansion rarely did anymore.

But even as she set up the movie and settled back next to me, the embarrassing truth lingered in the back of my mind: I could still feel his imaginary breath on my neck. And no matter how hard I tried to shake it off, that daydream kept flickering back to life, whispering a question I wasn’t ready to confront: What if Gigi wasn’t as insane as I wanted to believe?

I ended up crashing at Gigi’s that night, curled up on her ridiculously comfy couch, surviving two painfully cheesy romance flicks and a show about a hapless kid getting sucked into another dimension by creepy shadow monsters. There was also a bald girl who could toss vans with her mind, which honestly kept me awake longer than I wanted to admit.

But come episode five, my eyelids gave up the fight, and I drifted off to Gigi cursing the screen because her favorite character made a dumb choice.

When I woke up the next morning, sunlight was streaming through Gigi’s pale blue curtains, and she was already up, munching on cereal and humming like it was the most peaceful Saturday ever. It took me a moment to remember it was Saturday, the day of Jace’s party.

The party I still had no clue why I was invited to.

As I wrestled with my crazy bed head, Gigi leaned against the kitchen counter, giving me wardrobe advice like she was some overworked stylist.

"When you get home, wear that black button up, not the one with the tiny square patterns," she directed, waving her spoon dramatically. "And those good jeans, not the ones that make you look like a goody two-shoes. And for the love of all that’s fashionable, don’t wear those tragic sneakers."

I snorted into my cereal. "Good morning to you too."

She ignored me and carried on. "Also...don’t drink anything sketchy. In fact, don’t drink anything at all unless you opened it. Don’t chug random cups that people hand you. Don’t get wasted. And don’t let anyone talk you into shots, because you’re a disaster after shots, babe. Absolutely do not, under any circumstances, play party truth or dare. Nothing good ever comes from those chaotic circles."

I blinked slowly at her. "Okay, Mom."

Gigi rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might pop out. "I’m serious! You’re practically a baby deer. I’m just trying to keep you safe."

I laughed, grabbed my bagpack, and hugged her before we headed out. She drove me back to Oakfield mansion, lecturing me the whole way like I was being sent off to war instead of a high school party.

As the gates of the estate swung open and the long driveway came into view, something tightened in my chest. I still wasn’t quite used to calling this place home, even after months. It felt too big, too polished, too cold.

Gigi dropped me off with one last warning "Text me the moment you get dressed...I need to approve your outfit!", then sped off to meet her aunt.

I stepped inside, the quiet of the mansion wrapping around me like a heavy blanket. It was always so still here in the mornings, the air filled with that expensive lavender scent the housekeeper insisted on using.

I climbed the stairs, already thinking about jumping in the shower before I even looked at my phone and then I froze.

Adrien was standing in the hallway, right by my bedroom door.

He looked like he hadn’t slept at all. His hair was a mess, sticking up in odd waves, and there were faint shadows under his eyes that I’d never seen before. He didn’t look angry, at least not on the surface...but something in his expression made my stomach clench. His jaw was tight, arms crossed loosely over his chest, and when he met my gaze, there was an unreadable storm in his eyes.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

I wasn’t sure if I should turn around and pretend I hadn’t seen him or walk past like he was just some piece of decor. But my feet were glued to the floor, my heart racing way too loud in the silence.

He just stood there... watching.

And I couldn’t tell if he was waiting for me, avoiding me, or gearing up for another argument.

All I knew was that the moment our eyes locked, every memory from the Mystic Woods crashed back into my mind, all the yelling, the anger, the way he looked at me like I’d shattered something inside him.