My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 96: Damn These Intrusive Thoughts

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘❦✾❦∘∙⊱⋅•-

Adrien walked into my room like he owned the place, completely ignoring the need to knock. His confidence seemed to fill the doorway even before he stepped in, that laid-back vibe he had always gave off this impression that the world was just there to entertain him.

Gigi froze next to me, narrowing her eyes like a cat about to pounce. "Leave, jerk," she snapped, pointing toward the door. "This is a besties-only zone, creep. Ever heard of privacy?"

Adrien blinked at her, not the least bit bothered. "Relax, I’m not here to crash your study date. I just—"

"I don’t care what you’re here for," Gigi interrupted, her tone sharp. "Get. Out."

I winced, fully aware of how this would spiral if I didn’t step in. "Gigi," I said quickly, placing a hand on her arm before she could throw something his way. "It’s fine. He’s not... he’s not doing anything wrong. He just tends to come into my room unannounced."

Adrien raised an eyebrow, a smug half-smile creeping onto his face that always made me feel like throwing something at him while simultaneously wanting to laugh. "See? Even your little hamster friend gets it."

"Don’t call me that," I muttered, trying to maintain some dignity.

Gigi looked at me as if I’d just broken our sacred friendship vows. "You’re seriously defending him? Noah, this guy made your life hell!"

"Made," I said more quietly this time. "He’s... he’s not like that anymore. He’s actually been—" I hesitated, glancing at Adrien, who was now leaning against my dresser with his arms crossed, clearly enjoying the drama. "—civil."

"Civil?" Gigi echoed, incredulous. "He’s Adrien!"

Adrien chuckled lowly. "Still holding grudges, huh? That’s cute."

Gigi shot him a glare that suggested she was ready to throw a shoe. "You’re lucky I respect Naoh’s decisions or I’d be launching my bag at your face."

I rubbed my forehead, exasperated. "Okay, everyone, let’s chill. Adrien, can you just say what you came for? You’re kind of distracting us."

He sighed dramatically, like I was the inconvenience here. "Fine. I just came to grab my mom’s journal back. You borrowed it, remember?"

"Oh." Guilt hit me like a tidal wave. I had completely forgotten it was by my nightstand. "Right. Sorry. Give me a minute, I’ll grab it."

"Thanks," he said, his tone surprisingly neutral. Then, with a smirk in Gigi’s direction, he added, "Try not to kill me next time, pastel."

"Out," she ordered again, jabbing a finger toward the door.

He raised his hands in mock surrender and sauntered out, mumbling something under his breath that sounded an awful lot like "feisty."

Once he was gone, I turned to Gigi. "Did you really need to be so rude?"

She looked at me like I had two heads. "Noah, are you hearing yourself? That was Adrien Fell! You should be grateful I didn’t throw salt at him!"

I sighed and plopped back onto the bed. "He wasn’t being mean. He just wanted something back. You could’ve at least—"

"At least what?" she cut in, arms crossed. "Pretend he’s not the same jerk who embarrassed you for kicks? I don’t care if he’s being ’nice’ now. He’s still a moron in designer sneakers."

Her words hurt more than I wanted to admit, mostly because they had some truth to them. But still, Adrien had changed, even if no one else saw it.

"I’ll be right back," I said, finally grabbing the journal from my nightstand.

"Fine," she mumbled, flopping back on the bed. "Go deliver his stupid diary."

I rolled my eyes, trying not to laugh. "Just calm down, Gigi."

I left my room and walked down the hall, the familiar smell of his cologne faintly wafting from his half-open door. He was sitting at his desk, scrolling through his phone, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, like he’d given up halfway through getting dressed.

"Hey," I said softly as I stepped inside. "Sorry about Gigi. She can be... a bit intense."

He looked up, one eyebrow raised. "You think I care what your friend thinks of me?"

I handed him the journal, fidgeting slightly. "Still, she doesn’t know you like I do. She thinks you’re—"

"A horrible person?" he finished dryly.

I hesitated, meeting his gaze. "She’s wrong about that."

He stared at me for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, taking the journal from my hand, his fingers brushed against mine, too briefly, but enough to make my stomach flutter. "Tell her she’s free to keep hating me," he said casually. "It makes things easier."

I nodded slowly. "You really don’t care what people think, do you?"

He smiled, but it was humorless. "Not anymore."

And somehow, even though what he said was simple, it felt heavy, and I didn’t quite know why.

I lingered awkwardly in the doorway, like it might shield me from the strange tension between us. Adrien sat at the edge of his desk, a smirk dancing on his lips, like he knew I didn’t really have a good reason to be standing there.

The golden light from his window cast a soft glow on his face, accentuating his sharp jawline and making his eyes look even lighter. It was almost unfair how effortlessly attractive he was, like someone had drawn him with too much skill and time.

I took a breath and said, "Thank you, for helping me get rid of Vanessa earlier."

The silence stretched on, filling the room like a rising tide. He flipped through one of the pages of his mom’s journal, pretending to be focused, but I could tell he was listening. The way his jaw tightened gave him away. I went on, softer now.

"Thanks for having my back this time. Even if you didn’t have to."

That caught his attention. His eyes met mine, heavy and steady, the kind of gaze that makes you forget everything else. "You’re welcome," he said simply, in a low voice. Then, with a half-grin, he added, "But honestly? Even if I hadn’t said anything, you had it sorted. You’ve changed, Valentine."

I didn’t know how to respond. My chest felt oddly warm, and before I could think twice, my gaze dropped to his lips as he spoke. Each word rolled off slowly, and for a brief moment, I wondered what it would be like if just I leaned in and kissed him.

The thought hit me like a slap. My face turned beet red, and my brain screamed, ’Oh my God, what is wrong with you? He’s your stepbrother, Noah. STEP. BROTHER! Get a damn grip!’

I cleared my throat and hurried back a step, pretending to fix my hair. "A–anyway, I should... get back to Gigi. We were supposed to study for a quiz."

Adrien leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You sure you’ll be able to focus on trig after becoming Vanessa’s number one enemy?"

I groaned. "That’s your fault, you know. She wouldn’t be after me if she wasn’t so obsessed with you."

He laughed, that deep, lazy laugh that somehow made everything worse. "Can’t help it if people get obsessed with me. It’s a curse, actually."

I rolled my eyes so hard I almost lost them. "You’re so full of yourself."

He grinned and tilted his head. "And yet, here you are."

I stared at him, momentarily at a loss for words, before finally stammering, "I’m leaving before your ego gets me killed."

As I turned for the door, I heard him call out, "Hey, Hamster."

I paused, already bracing myself for whatever annoying thing he was about to say. "What?"

He smiled that infuriating grin, an eyebrow cocked. "You okay? You look like a tomato."

My face flushed hotter. "Shut up, jerk," I muttered, slamming the door behind me before he could catch the embarrassed smile creeping onto my lips.

I could still hear his laughter echoing down the hall, that low, carefree sound that somehow twisted my stomach in a way I really didn’t want to think about.