My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 75: With Eyes So Intense

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"Come on," Adrien said finally, his tone softer now. "Before the food gets cold."

He pivoted and headed down the hall, and after hesitating for a moment, I fell in step behind him. The tension that had hung between us had shifted into something nearly normal and something warm that felt strange but not so bad. I walked behind him, noticing how the light from the chandelier caught in his hair, when I spotted his left hand—a rough bandage wrapped around it, clearly done in a hurry.

"Wait," I said, frowning as I caught up. "What happened to your hand?"

He glanced down and shrugged as if it was nothing. "Just cut myself making dinner," he said nonchalantly, as if slicing open his hand was an everyday occurrence. "It’s fine."

"It doesn’t look fine," I countered, eyeing the shabby bandage. It was practically hanging off, and there was already a faint trace of red seeping through. "That’s not even wrapped right. My mom would have a heart attack if she saw it."

He shot me that look—the one that said I was being dramatic. "It’s just a cut, Noah. I’ve dealt with worse."

I rolled my eyes, not about to back down. "You’re handling it wrong," I said, stepping closer before he could back away. Without thinking, I took his hand in mine. His palm was warm and rougher than I expected, and the contact sent a spark of awareness through me that I tried to shake off. "You can’t just leave it like this. It could get infected."

"Noaj," he replied, a mix of amusement and exasperation in his voice, "I’m not a kid. I know how to manage a stupid fucking cut."

"Clearly not," I said, tugging him down the hallway toward the kitchen.

He stumbled a bit, surprised. "Hey—what are you—"

"Sit," I ordered, pointing to a stool by the counter.

He blinked at me, looking both confused and entertained. "You’re seriously dragged me downstairs to play nurse?"

"Someone has to, because clearly you can’t handle basic first aid," I shot back, rummaging through a cabinet for the first-aid kit I remembered seeing.

"I don’t need help," he muttered under his breath, but I noticed the corners of his mouth twitching, trying to hide a smile.

I turned to face him, hands on my hips. "Oh really? Then why’s that bandage soaking through?"

He sighed theatrically but stayed put. "You’re so stubborn, you know that?"

"I do, and you’re reckless," I said, finally grabbing the first-aid kit. "So we balance each other out."

That earned him a quiet chuckle. "Balance, huh?"

I shot him a look that made him grin wider, though he did his best to mask it behind his usual smirk. Setting the kit on the counter, I began unwrapping the rough bandage, and he winced but didn’t say a word. His fingers were long and strong, but he let me hold his hand with an unexpected vulnerability.

"This might sting," I murmured as I dabbed antiseptic on the cut.

"Yeah, I’ll survive," he muttered, but I could see his jaw tense up.

"Big talk from someone who almost flinched," I teased.

He gave me a flat look. "I didn’t flinch."

I smiled faintly. "Sure, you didn’t."

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, it was just soft, filled with the gentle crackle of the fire in the other room. I concentrated on cleaning the wound and wrapping it up neatly, trying not to think about how close we were, how his breath brushed faintly against my hair whenever he leaned in to watch.

I pulled the first-aid kit closer, my hands trembling slightly from the closeness. He had rolled up his sleeve, resting his arm on the marble surface, and I could feel the warmth radiating from his skin even before I touched him. The cabin light was low, casting soft golden shadows over his face, and as I began unwrapping the rough bandage, his fingers twitched just a bit.

"Hold still," I murmured, trying to sound calm, even though my voice wavered slightly.

He hummed in response, a low sound in his throat that stirred something unsettling in my chest. As I leaned closer to inspect the cut, my knee brushed against his leg, and I froze. I could feel his gaze, heavy and unwavering, following every little movement I made.

Why was he staring like that?

I tried to focus on my task, on the sting of the antiseptic and the steady rhythm of wrapping the new bandage, but my mind was all over the place. Every breath felt louder than it should have, my heart raced like it wanted to leap out of my chest, and the slight brush of his knuckles against mine didn’t help at all.

He still hadn’t looked away. I could feel it...the weight of his attention lingering on me, as if he were memorizing the curve of my cheek, the way I chewed my lip when concentrating. I didn’t dare look up; I was sure I’d combust if our eyes met.

"Almost done," I muttered, mostly to break the silence.

"You take this very seriously," Adrien said quietly, his voice low and almost teasing.

"That’s because someone has to," I shot back, though it came out softer than I meant.

At last, I smoothed down the last layer of bandage and sighed, realizing just how close we really were. His face was just inches away, his eyes still locked on me.

I swallowed, forcing myself to meet his gaze. "T–there," I said, clearing my throat when my voice came out just above a whisper. "You’re all set now."

He didn’t move for a moment, just continued to look at me as if he wanted to say something but was struggling to find the words.

I stepped back quickly, putting some distance between us before my nerves got the better of me. "You should, um, be a bit more careful next time," I added awkwardly brushing my hair out of my eyes.

Adrien finally nodded, his expression hard to read again. "Yeah," he replied quietly. "Got it."

He looked down at his hand, flexing his fingers slightly, then back at me. His eyes softened in a way that twisted my stomach. "Thanks, Nurse Hamster," he said softly.

"Shut up," I shot back, even though my cheeks warmed at the nickname.

"Dinner’s on the stove," he mentioned after a beat, "before it really does get cold."

"Fine," I muttered, turning away quickly so he wouldn’t see the silly smile creeping onto my lips as I followed him back toward the kitchen table.

Without another word, he rose and walked over to the stove, grabbing a serving spoon to dish out dinner. I stood there for a moment, trying to steady my racing heartbeat before joining him at the table, pretending everything was normal—like his gaze hadn’t just made my whole body forget how to function properly.