My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 73: Bring Down Your Walls

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I didn’t go downstairs for dinner that night. I could hear the soft clattering of pots and pans, a chair scraping against the floor, and then silence...probably him eating by himself. I just couldn’t face him after the way he snapped at me. I felt pretty stupid for thinking we were finally starting to get each other.

So, I stayed curled up on my bed, my phone casting a dim light in the dark room as I scrolled through my gallery. There were pictures of Gigi laughing with her messy bun falling apart, Skylar grinning with a milkshake mustache, and Ethan smiling with his arm around my shoulder like it was just the most natural thing.

I lingered on Ethan’s photo, his easy smile, the sunlight catching in his hair. It made my heart ache. He’d never yelled at me like that. He’d never made me feel small for caring.

I sighed, locked my phone, and tossed it onto the blanket beside me. My chest felt heavy, like all the emotions I’d been holding back for the past week had decided to gang up on me.

Adrien Fell was such a puzzle I couldn’t figure out. One moment, he was the infuriating jerk who bullied me, and the next, he was the guy patiently teaching me how to swim, his hands steady on my waist while he promised he wouldn’t let go. Then, just as I thought maybe there was more to him—maybe he was actually changing...then, he yelled at me for doing something he thought was out of concern.

I ran a hand through my hair and let out a long breath. "What am I even doing?" I whispered to the empty room. Hearing my own voice felt weird, too loud against the quiet.

I wasn’t supposed to care this much. I wasn’t supposed to want to understand him. But I did.

I wanted to bring down his walls, crazily enough. Because he was a good person, behind the harsh and cold bricks.

Because beneath that arrogance and cruelty, I’d seen glimpses of something real, something soft and nearly kind. Like the way he carried me to bed when I was sick, or how he stayed up all night to check on me, or how his laughter sounded when he finally relaxed.

That wasn’t the Adrien everyone else saw. That wasn’t the Adrien who called me names in the hallway or mocked me in front of his friends. No, that was someone else...someone who looked lonely even when he smiled.

I leaned back against the headboard, watching the shadows dance on the ceiling. "You’re impossible, Adrien," I murmured to myself. "You make it so damn hard to hate you."

Somewhere downstairs, I thought I heard a floorboard creak, like he was pacing. Maybe he was just cleaning up, or maybe he was trying to think of a way to apologize but didn’t know how.

Or maybe I was just hoping for too much.

Either way, I stayed put. I wasn’t ready to see him, not until I could look him in the eye without wanting to either punch him or... forgive him.

I sighed again, clutching the blanket a bit tighter. I missed home. I missed the noise, the laughter, and the people who didn’t make my heart feel like it was always at war with my head.

But most of all, I missed the version of Adrien I thought I’d seen...the one I was starting to believe in.

I heard him before I saw him. His voice floated up from the kitchen, low and muffled through the walls. "Dinner’s ready."

I rolled over on my bed and stared blankly at the ceiling. My stomach grumbled softly, but I ignored it. I wasn’t in the mood to play nice. Not after the way he’d snapped at me. Not after the look he gave me, as if I was some nosy stranger instead of the girl who actually tried to understand him.

A minute passed. Then another.

"Hey Noah. You deaf now?!" his voice called again, louder this time. "Come eat."

I didn’t respond. Instead, I pulled the blanket over my head like a petulant child, muttering, "Go eat your own food, jerk."

Another pause. Then I heard footsteps climbing the stairs, steady and unhurried, that familiar confident stride that made my pulse quicken in irritation. He knocked twice, firm and expectant.

"Noah. I know you can hear me. Open the door."

I pressed my lips together, stubbornness rising like a shield. "Go away," I called back, my voice muffled by the blanket.

"Are you serious?" He sighed, and I could almost picture him running a hand through his hair in frustration. "You’re acting like a kid."

That made me sit up. I yanked the blanket off and glared at the door even though he couldn’t see me. "I’m acting like a kid? You are the one who yelled at me like I committed some kind of crime, Adrien!"

"I told you to stay out of my family’s business," he shot back through the door, his tone sharp but not quite angry. "You crossed a line, and you know it."

I clenched my fists in my lap. "I was trying to help you," I said, my voice shaking with frustration. "But of course, you wouldn’t understand that. You just push everyone away the second they care."

There was a stretch of silence on the other side of the door, long enough for me to wonder if he’d walked off. Then, quietly, he said, "You still need to eat something before you get sick again."

That made me laugh, a bitter, disbelieving sound. "Why do you even care?" I demanded. "It’s not like you see me as your sister or even close to a friend."

The silence that followed was heavier this time. For a moment, I almost swore I heard him take a sharp breath, but he didn’t say anything.

I pressed on, my voice quieter but steadier. "You can’t play the good guy when it’s convenient, Adrien. One minute you’re yelling, and the next you’re pretending to care. It’s exhausting."

The doorknob shifted slightly, like he thought about opening it but then stopped. "You done?" he asked softly.

I glared at the door. "Yeah."

"Good," he said. "Because whether you like it or not, there’s soup on the table. Eat before it gets cold." His tone was calm now, but there was something almost uncertain about it, like he was trying not to make things worse.

I didn’t answer. I just listened to his footsteps retreat down the hallway, growing fainter with each step until they disappeared.

For a long time, I sat there staring at the door, my chest tight.

He frustrated me...God, he frustrated me to no fucking end, but there was always something underneath his words that made it impossible to completely hate him. That quiet sincerity he tried so hard to hide. That hint of guilt in his tone.

I buried my face in my hands and let out a long breath. "Why does everything have to be so complicated with you?" I whispered.

My stomach growled again, and despite my pride, I found myself slipping out of bed and creeping toward the door.

Just because I was mad didn’t mean I was going to starve to death.