My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}

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The morning after the Snow Ball, everything felt gray and heavy. It was one of those winter days where the light creeps through the curtains, making everything inside seem dull and worn out.

I hadn’t really slept at all, just lay on top of the covers staring up at the ceiling fan as it spun in slow circles, replaying that courtyard scene over and over in my mind: Ethan’s face twisting into a mix of betrayal and exhaustion, Adrien getting punched, the snow falling like it was trying to cover up what had just happened. Each time I shut my eyes, the images became sharper, so I kept them open until my vision blurred, and the room felt like it was moving around me.

When the house finally started to wake up. Mom’s footsteps on the stairs and the distant clinking of coffee mugs, I locked my bedroom door. It was just a quiet click, but it felt louder in the silence.

I really didn’t want to talk or explain anything, and I definitely didn’t want anyone looking at me with that concerned expression adults wear when they know something’s wrong but don’t know how to help.

Mom knocked around noon. "Noah? Sweetheart, you okay in there?"

I stayed curled up on my bed, hugging my knees to my chest, staring at the wall with a single crack running from the ceiling to the baseboard, like someone had tried to draw a straight line but gave up halfway.

"I’m fine," I called back, my voice flat enough that I hardly believed it myself.

There was a pause. "You sure? You didn’t come down for breakfast. Or dinner last night."

"I’m not hungry."

Another pause, this one longer. "Keith’s worried too. He said—"

"I just need some space, Mom. Please."