My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 118: Rather Show Than Tell

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We were just about finished eating when I suddenly remembered the flyer I had stuffed into my bag. The edges were a bit crumpled from being shoved in between notebooks, but those neon letters still stood out, obnoxiously bright. I pulled it out and slid it across the blanket toward Ethan, noticing his eyebrows raise as he read it.

"Jace’s party?" he repeated slowly, almost as if the paper might explode. "You... got invited?"

"Looks like it," I replied, making a face. "Still trying to figure out if it’s some kind of joke or if it’s a sign that the world is ending."

He let out a soft laugh at that, but when our eyes met again, I saw his expression shift to something more serious-maybe even worried. "Do you... want to go?"

There it was. The question I’d been expecting. The same one Gigi had practically yelled at me in the hallway earlier. I took a deep breath, feeling that familiar knot of anxiety twist in my stomach, memories of cold pool water and mocking laughter flashing through my mind before I pushed them aside.

"Well," I said lightly, nudging him with my shoulder, "you’re kind of sounding like Gigi right now."

He shot me a look that was half offended, half amused. "I’m serious about this." 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

"I know," I said, taking the flyer back and smoothing out the crease with my thumb. "But I think... I’m going. I want to at least give it a shot. This is my last year of high school, and I’m tired of being scared all the time. I want to show myself that I can handle this. That a dumb mistake and a bunch of awful teenagers don’t get to decide how I live my life."

Ethan paused for a few seconds, the breeze tousling his blond hair as he studied my face like he was trying to look past the things I wasn’t saying. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but filled with concern.

"If you’re doing this to challenge yourself... I get it. But I just don’t want you to feel pressured or unsafe." He leaned a little closer, his blue eyes searching my expression. "Parties like Jace’s can get... loud and chaotic. And you’ve already been through something rough at the last one."

My heart squeezed a bit at the kindness in his voice, the genuine care behind it. "I know," I murmured. "And I really appreciate it. But this time... it’s different. I’m not going alone. And I’m not the same guy who let Adrien and the other idiots push him around."

He let out a breath, sounding a mix of relieved and resigned. "Okay. But just so you know, I got an invite too."

I blinked in surprise. "You did?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking a bit embarrassed. "Yeah, Jace handed it to me during practice this morning. I wasn’t planning on going, not after... you know."

He didn’t mention Adrien’s name, but the weight of it hung heavy between us anyway. The tension, the fights, everything that had happened.

"But, if you’re going... then I’m definitely there. Every second. I’m not letting you walk into that party without someone who cares about you."

His sincerity washed over me like a warm wave. I stared at him, here was a guy who had every reason to be bitter, every reason to close himself off, yet he always chose to be kind instead. Even after everything he told me about his past, he looked at me with that same gentle devotion.

It made something in my chest feel tight, in a sweet, painful way.

Sometimes I wondered if guys like Ethan were even real. Like, truly real. Gentle when it mattered, kind without wanting something in return, honest without hesitating. I often thought about what I had done to deserve someone who treated me as if I was worth showing off to the world.

"You’re..." I started, swallowing hard as I struggled to finish my sentence without getting emotional. "You’re amazing, you know that, right?"

He chuckled, humble and a bit bashful. "I’m really not."

But he was. Maybe more than he realized.

I leaned my head against his shoulder, letting the moment settle between us as the wind rustled the leaves and the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in soft shades of pink and gold.

For a few minutes, we just sat in silence. Together, safe and warm and peaceful.

And I realized, Ethan wasn’t just a good boyfriend.

He was the kind of boy that shows up in stories and those novels that kept me up at three am wondering what Chapter the main leads would kiss for the first time.

The kind who plans a picnic on a cliff.

The kind who listens, even when it hurts.

The kind who stays.

That thought crept up on me slowly at first, like a gentle nudge, and then all at once, it crashed over me like a wave.

As Ethan smiled at me, brushing a crumb from the corner of my mouth with that effortless gentleness, something warm curled in my chest...too warm, too bright, and too big to ignore.

I froze for a moment.

Oh.

Oh.

My heart stumbled in the silliest way, and I found myself sitting perfectly still, afraid that if I moved too fast, I might scare away this realization or worse, make it too real. But it was there, loud and certain and terrifying in the best possible way.

I was in love with him.

Not maybe, definitely not almost.

Not some vague feeling of love if I squinted hard enough.

I was actually, unmistakably, overwhelmingly in love with him.

It stunned me so much I almost forgot how to breathe.

All those weeks spent trying to sort out my feelings wondering what counted as affection, what was just fear of being alone, what was guilt or admiration or confusion, they all seemed ridiculous now. The truth had been quietly growing within me long before I dared to name it.

I loved being around him.

I loved how he looked at me like I mattered.

I hated when we fought, hated the empty ache inside when we didn’t talk.

And I missed him, really missed him whenever he wasn’t around.

What else could that be?

My cheeks flushed, and the embarrassment deepened when I remembered that Ethan had already said he loved me, not once, but twice and I hadn’t been able to reciprocate because I hadn’t fully understood my own heart yet.

But now I understood it.

I understood him.

And I understood that people like Ethan people who tried so hard, who carried their childhood struggles alone, yet still managed to smile, deserved softness, certainty, and devotion in return.

They deserved the world.

And I wanted to offer him whatever piece of that world I could hold in my hands.

Slowly, I reached for him, my voice catching in my throat as his blue eyes met mine with that open, breathtaking tenderness that always made my heart flutter.

"Ethan," I said softly, "I know you love me... and I’m sorry it took me so long to give you an answer."

His breath hitched, the muscles in his jaw tightening like he was bracing for something rough. "Noah... you don’t ever need to apologize for-"

"No." I shook my head, gently interrupting him. "I want to. Because you deserve clarity and honesty. You deserve someone who isn’t scared to meet you halfway."

His eyes softened, and he instinctively took my hand, his thumb tracing slow circles over my knuckles. "You don’t owe me anything but being yourself."

"I know," I whispered. "And that’s why... I want to try to show you. Even if I’m terrible at saying it out loud."

Before he could ask what I meant, I shifted forward, my knees sinking into the blanket. As I settled onto his lap, straddling him, Ethan’s eyes widened in surprise, and I almost laughed at his reaction. He stayed perfectly still, like a statue made of sunlight and nervous energy, his hands hovering hesitantly at my waist as if he were afraid that touching me would break whatever spell I was under.

"Noah..." he breathed, his voice cracking a bit. "W-What are you doing?"

"What I should’ve done a long time ago," I murmured, my hands sliding up the warm lines of his shoulders, feeling the startled tremble beneath my touch. "I told you... I want to show you how I feel."

A deep blush spread across his cheeks, vibrant and bright, reaching all the way to the tips of his ears. He looked overwhelmed, beautifully, entirely overwhelmed as his breath came in slow, shaky gasps, as if he couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

His lips parted, like he was about to say something meaningful, something heartfelt, but whatever it was faded as I leaned in, my forehead brushing against his.

His fingers finally settled on my waist, holding me gently, reverently, as if he feared I would disappear if he held me too tight.

"Noah," he whispered again, sounding as if my name alone might undo him.

I smiled back, soft and a little shy, but filled with a certainty I hadn’t felt until this moment.