My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 55: The One In Control (BC)
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Adrien sat in silence for a bit, the flickering candlelight dancing between us. Outside, the storm continued to pound, filling the quiet with low, rumbling sounds. I could feel his gaze on me, uncertain and maybe even a little conflicted. Then, finally, he broke the silence.
"What do you mean it reminds you of your dad?" His voice was cautious, but there was a curiosity tucked beneath his attempt at indifference.
I glanced up and for a heartbeat, it felt like he actually cared. But then he exhaled, rubbed the back of his neck, and muttered, "Not that I care or anything. I just—whatever. You brought it up."
That familiar irritation bubbled up in my chest, but this time it was mixed with something else. I turned my gaze away, focusing on the flicker of the candle flame. "It doesn’t matter," I murmured. "Forget I said anything."
He frowned, stepping closer as if he was about to say something more, but I quickly shook my head. My throat was tight, and my chest felt heavy in that all-too-familiar way that I despised. "Don’t worry about it," I forced a small, fragile smile. "I’m just glad my mom divorced him when she did. That’s all."
Silence settled in again, broken only by the rain tapping on the roof and the distant rumble of thunder. Adrien didn’t move or say a word. I could tell he wanted to say something, but was stuck on how to start. He just stood there, watching me like I was a puzzle missing pieces.
I turned my head away, pretending to focus on the storm outside, though my mind was far from it. I felt that familiar ache wash over me, the one that always came when I thought about him. My dad.
Even though Adrien had been treating me a little better lately, I knew better than to trust him with something like that. Not now. Not when the same person had spent years making my life miserable.
Maybe someday I’d finally open up about what really happened between my father and me, but not tonight.
Not to him.
So I let the silence wrap around us, letting it drown out both the thunder’s roar and the ghosts of memories.
3rd Person POV
The cabin was quiet again, apart from the gentle patter of rain against the windows and the occasional rumble of thunder rolling through the trees. The candle between them flickered low, casting a soft, uneven glow. Adrien leaned back on the couch, elbows resting casually on his knees, his eyes fixated on Noah.
He hadn’t said anything more since that last comment about his dad. It echoed in his mind like the storm outside. There was something about his tone, a small, broken note that didn’t quite fit with the boy he’d bullied for years.
He rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a soft breath. "Thunder reminds him of his dad," he murmured to himself, testing the thought as if saying it aloud might bring some clarity. But it didn’t. Nothing about Noah made sense these days.
He’d always thought he knew Noah Valentine, the quiet boy who preferred the art room over socializing. The one who flinched at his friends’ jokes and pretended not to hear when they used his name as an insult. He assumed he was easy to read: the type to break under pressure and run away instead of standing his ground. But the boy before him now, the one who had looked him straight in the eye during a thunderstorm and said he wasn’t scared of thunder, only afraid of memories—that was someone he didn’t recognize.
He turned slightly and noticed that Noah had fallen asleep. His head rested against the arm of the couch, hair cascading over his forehead in messy strands. The candlelight softened his features, highlighting the faint freckles on his nose and the delicate curve of his lashes. He looked so small, almost fragile, yet somehow at peace, as if the storm could no longer touch him.
A tightness gripped Adrien’s chest. He didn’t want to call it guilt, but deep down, he knew that was exactly what it was.
He recalled the way his eyes had flinched when he’d thrown his own words back at him: "Are you going to call me a pussy like your cool friends do?"
His friends had said things like that—crude, hurtful, homophobic remarks. Sometimes he’d played along, even thrown in a jab or two knowing fully well he himself might be bisexual with how heavily fixated he was on Noah. It was easier than facing the fact that he cared too much. Somewhere along the line, between ignoring Noah and convincing himself he didn’t matter, he’d morphed into someone he barely recognized.
He dragged a hand down his face, despising how the truth settled in his chest like lead.
He had pushed him away because these... feelings... whatever they were, weren’t meant to exist. Not while their parents were married, not after witnessing where love had landed his mom.
Not when everyone saw him as the perfect, untouchable Adrien Fell. So he buried it under mockery, underneath sneers and eye rolls, beneath the cruel laughter that dulled Noah’s eyes over time.
And when he realized Noah truly hated him... he just doubled down. He told himself it was fine, that his hatred meant his plan had worked. That he didn’t regret anything. But now, sitting in this quiet cabin, with the rain softly patting against the windows and Noah asleep just a few feet away, he recognized that he simply couldn’t keep lying to himself.
’He’s my step brother.’ he thought, he shouldn’t be feeling this way for someone who was technically his family member now, blood related or not ...it was wrong. He shouldn’t be feeling this way for anyone, in general.
He shouldn’t be falling deeper for a boy that had no chance of reciprocating his emotions..
But he was tired of hiding, it only made things worse.
He stared at him, his expression unreadable. Guilt, regret, and something deeper tangled together until he could no longer differentiate between them.
For the first time in ages, Adrien Fell didn’t feel like he had everything under control.
