My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 124: Communication Can Fix Anything... Except This

Chapter 124: Communication Can Fix Anything... Except This

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Third Person’s POV

Helen stood at the bottom of the stairs long after Noah had shut his door upstairs. The sound of it was pretty subtle, not dramatic at all, but it still cut through her. She pressed her hand against her chest, brows furrowing in confusion as she tried to figure out what had just happened in the foyer when the teens had walked in.

Just a little while ago, she was looking forward to hearing about their day, hoping to find another sign that Clearwater hadn’t just been a one-off. But instead, Noah had marched past her, barely giving a glance, his expression harsh and her eyes glistening with what looked way too much like anger, which was an unfamiliar look on Noah who was known to be calm.

Helen swallowed hard and turned to Adrien.

He hadn’t moved an inch from his spot by the door, his shoulders tense under his dark jacket. When her eyes met his, he looked away quickly, almost like he couldn’t bear to face her.

"Adrien," Helen said quietly, stepping closer. "What happened? You both seemed fine this morning."

He didn’t respond. His jaw was clenched, and without saying a word, he strode past her toward the kitchen. For a moment, she debated whether to give him space or to follow him, afraid that that if she tried so hard to be a mother figure to Adrien, would only push him further away.

She chose to follow.

The kitchen lights were warm, casting a buttery glow over the marble countertop. Adrien yanked open the fridge harder than necessary and grabbed a bottle of orange juice. His movements were stiff and methodical as he popped off the cap and poured himself a glass, the juice sloshing near the top.

Helen stayed a few steps back, not wanting to crowd him but not ready to let him drift away in silence.

"Adrien..." she tried again, her voice soft and gentle, like she was approaching a frightened animal. "Please talk to me. I don’t want to jump to conclusions."

He raised the glass and took a long drink, maybe trying to numb something inside. When he set it down, he still wouldn’t look her way.

Helen’s heart ached.

She moved closer, resting her hands lightly on the counter. "I thought things were... getting better," she said quietly. "After Clearwater, it really felt like you two were finally connecting. Laughing, talking, helping each other out, you driving him to school." Her voice turned softer still. "But now you both look like you’ve just come back from a war zone."

Adrien tensed at her words but didn’t respond.

Helen let out a slow breath. "Whatever went down with you and Noah, I hope it’s something you both can work through. I know how siblings can be. Arguments are part of the package, but if you communicate, you can keep your relationship from crumbling."

Silence hung heavy in the room.

She watched him closely, noticing the slight tremor in his jaw, the way his fingers gripped the glass too tightly, and the way his eyes seemed glued to a spot on the countertop, as if he was afraid of what she’d see in his gaze.

"If there’s something bothering you...something that’s making you hurt or lash out, you need to let it out, Noah is a very understanding person. He’ll listen to you." she said softly. "Keeping it all in won’t help either of you."

Adrien squeezed his eyes shut for a quick second, letting out a breath through his nose, but still didn’t say a word.

Helen lingered in the silence, letting the moment stretch out. She didn’t rush him. She just stood there, hoping he’d find a way to open up, hoping he’d let her in.

But soon, he picked up the glass again, his face hard to decipher, and took another sip, still avoiding her gaze.

The silence between them felt like a wall getting taller.

Helen’s heart sank further. She stole one last look at him, a soft, pained glance filled with a mother’s worry that had no place to land, before she turned away. Her footsteps echoed through the hallway, her sigh barely audible as she came to terms with what she couldn’t force.

For months, she had tried gently nudging them towards some sort of peace, believing time and patience would heal old wounds. But tonight, it was clear: whatever storm had erupted between Noah and Adrien was beyond anything she could mediate.

The only people who could fix things between Noah and Adrien was themselves.

So she let it go. She left him alone in the kitchen where the warm lights felt dimmer now that she was out of sight.

Adrien stood at the counter long after she left, both hands pressed on the cold marble, his reflection barely visible in the smooth surface, his jaw tight, eyes brimming with unspoken agony. The house was silent around him, but inside his mind, there was a cacophony, a relentless mess that wouldn’t quiet.

Communication.

That was the word she’d used.

As if just saying the truth was as easy as saying I don’t like pickles or you took my charger.

But how was he supposed to do that? Walk up to Noah’s room, knock, and say...

"Hey, I’m losing it because I saw you with Ethan, and I wanted to rip him off you and... I don’t even know what I wanted. I just know it hurt. More than anything ever has."

His fingers curled slowly against the counter.

He could still picture it, how Noah looked with the setting sun glowing on his skin, Ethan’s hands at his waist, Noah’s lips slightly parted, looking soft and breathless in a way that hit him like a gut punch.

He could hear Ethan’s voice too, low and possessive, saying he loved Noah. And the worst part, worse than the anger or the jealousy was the helplessness that overwhelmed him completely.

Because he had no claim to feel that way.

Not when Noah was never his.

Not when Noah couldn’t be his.

He breathed in shakily, forcing his eyes shut, but all he could see behind his eyelids were the fresh, bold hickeys on Noah’s neck, marks of Ethan.

His stomach twisted in response.

He wasn’t his to mark.

He wanted to wipe them off and replace them with his own to claim Noah as his.

Helen’s words echoed back to him like a soft reminder, along the lines of, if something’s troubling your heart, you need to voice it.

Voice what, exactly?

That every time Adrien looked at Noah, something inside him tightened more and more, like a wire that was about to snap?

That Adrien wanted to protect him, tease him, fight with him, hold him, kiss him...all at once?

That Noah made him feel alive like nothing else, and it scared him?

That somewhere along the way, all their arguments and rivalries had morphed into feelings he couldn’t name until it was too late?

Adrien’s throat tightened up.

What would Noah think if he told him?

What would happen if he came out and said...

"I’m in love with you.

I’ve been in love with you for ages."

"And I hate it. I hate it because it shouldn’t be this way. But it is. It always has been."

He could picture Noah’s face, the confusion, the shock, even disgust that might flash across it.

Adrien could see Noah pulling away from him, shutting him out, terrified of what it all meant.

He swallowed hard, his jaw clenching until it hurt.

Adrien couldn’t tell him.

Adrien couldn’t put that on him.

He couldn’t ruin whatever fragile bond they had now. Not when he looked genuinely happy. Not when Noah gazed at Ethan with that softness that chipped away at him a little more each day.

Adrien ran a hand through his hair and leaned forward, resting against the counter like it would keep him upright under the weight of his feelings.

"How the hell am I supposed to deal with this..." he muttered quietly, his voice almost a whisper.

The empty kitchen had no answers.

And for the first time all evening, he felt completely, utterly lost.