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I was walking down the hall, still a bit dazed from the long day, when the smash of something breaking echoed down the corridor. I stopped in my stride, my heart jumping. For a moment, I couldn't be sure I'd heard it, but then there was another crash—one louder, the sound of glass crashing into the wall with bare force.
Curiousness, or maybe instinct, pulled me in the direction of the sound. The corridor felt longer than usual, the soft golden lights tracing over the surfaces of the hung paintings. I knew the sound was coming from Adrien's room once I got closer. My stomach tightened slightly. His door was open enough that I could see what was inside.
Adrien was in the middle of it all, breathing hard, still holding onto a picture frame he'd refused to throw. Sharp shards of glass reflected like ice on the ground. His jaw was clenched, his eyes blazing with some mixture of anger and grief that left me frozen.
"Adrien?" I whispered, trying to keep my voice down. "W–what are you doing?"
"The fuck?! Who fucking said you could come into my room?!" The crude rage in his tone sent me reeling backward.
His room was trashed as if there had been a storm run through it—dressers yanked wide open, frames shattered, clothes scattered everywhere. I froze in the doorway, my hand still on the frame as I fought to get air back into my body.
Before I could so much as respond, Adrien's head whipped around to regard me, his eyes black and seething with anger. "What are you doing here?" he growled, his words slicing through the air.
"I—I heard something," I stammered, instinctively falling back. "I j–just wanted to see that everything was okay.".
He snorted a derisive laugh, running a hand through his mussed hair. "Oh, I'm sure you're thrilled, aren't you? You get to see me crack up, finally some entertainment for the pitiful new stepsister."
"What? No!" I shook my head quickly, my heart racing as I tried to find the right words. "I'm not—A–Adrien, I didn't mean to—"
He interrupted, moving in with a stare that caused my breath to catch. "Don't lie," he growled. "You must be glad to see me like this. Seeing me unraveling because of this goddamn marriage!"
I wanted to protest, to tell him he was mistaken, but the clenching of his jaw suffocated the words inside me. I had not time so much as to blink before he wrapped his arm around mine, it holding firm and immovable.
"Adrien—please, you're hurting me—"
"Then leave my room," he growled, his fury trembling so violently that it appeared to be on the verge of engulfing him. "And don't touch me. I don't want you or your fucking mom anywhere near me, okay?!?"
I nodded quickly, my heart pounding so wildly that I could barely think. He did not relent. His eyes still narrowed, and he shoved me back, and I found myself against the hallway, shoulder banged into the wall.
He shut the door behind me, the noise echoing down the hall like a threat.
I stood there frozen for a moment, gasping, staring at the shut door. My arm ached where he'd held it, but it was the look on his face—the hurt anger beneath the anger—that left the deeper wound.
I rubbed the spot on my arm where his fingers had dug into it, the sore stinging creeping like a bruise on the inside of my skin. With every step toward my room, it became heavier, the silence of the hallway pressing down upon me until I could hear nothing but the pound of my own heartbeat in my ears.
By the time I reached my door, I didn't even consider—I shut it and locked it behind me, hearing the click of the lock a ridiculously tiny thing to be of any comfort. I leaned back on the door for a moment, my eyes brimming as all that had just happened at last caught up with me.
Why did I do that and upset him? I ought to have known better. Adrien Fell was not a someone who enjoyed being shown concern—manipulated it, made something out of it that was nasty. He was cruel, defensive, and so incandescently angry that it spewed out of every utterance.
"God, he's such a terrible person," I cursed beneath my breath, wiping at my tears before they could fall. My face glared back at me in the mirror—red eyes, trembling hands, a girl who still fooled herself she could handle it.
I sat at the head of my bed, holding my knees, wishing—once, just once—that I weren't so afraid to fight back. That I could look him in the eye and let him know he didn't get to be mean to me just because he was angry with the world.
I wish I could make him quit," I breathed quietly, my voice cracking in the middle. "I wish I could make him see me as something more than just...someone to hate.".
The room was quiet, offering no comfort. I lay down anyway, curling in on myself, trying to make my heart stop hurting and my mind stop going over the look on his face—because beneath all the fury, I'd seen something else.
Pain.
And that made it worse.
The next morning came too soon. I woke up to the far-off singing of birds outside my window and the warm caress of sunlight coming through the curtains. For a second, I did not know where I was, until I rolled onto my side and saw the expensive furniture, the high ceilings, and that faint citrus scent that seemed to be attached everywhere around the Fell mansion. And with that, everything came rushing back. The dinner. The fight. Adrien's arm around mine. The look on his face.
I breathed deeply and hauled myself out of bed. The bruise was already asserting its presence on my skin—a small mark, but one that hurt enough to make my chest throb. I rubbed it out, attempting to make myself not care. The first day back at school was today, and I couldn't spend it on him.
Following a lightning shower, I donned one of the ensembles Gigi had selected for me. It was not exactly my style, but it somehow made me feel… confident. Maybe that was the point.
As I combed through my hair, I couldn't help but dread going downstairs. Breakfast was going to mean bumping into everyone again—Keith, Mom, and worst of all, Adrien. He hadn't come down to dinner last night, not that anyone had said much about it. Keith had only muttered that he was probably exhausted, and my mom had merely smiled uncomfortably, as if she didn't want to create any further tension.
Now, with my bag slung across my shoulder, I had come down the grand staircase, my steps ringing out hardly at all in the still morning air. The doors to the dining room stood ajar, and I could already hear the distant clinking of knives.
Mom was sitting beside Keith, her face lighting up the moment she noticed me. "Morning, sweetheart," she said, pouring a glass of orange juice for me.
"Morning," I growled, forcing a small smile as I fell into the chair beside Adrien.
He glared with infuriating excellence for a person who'd had the previous day behaving like a complete monster. His dark locks were perfectly pulled back into the half-up 'do again, and his outfit was sharp and spotless. He didn't even glance my way—just carved into his pancakes like I was a ghost.
Keith smiled at me warmly. "You look nice, Noah. Ready for your first day of the semester?"
"Yeah," I whispered, sipping juice. "As ready as I'll ever be."
Mom reached over and smoothed a stray lock of hair off my head. "You'll be fine, honey. Just be yourself as you always have."
I almost choked on that. If being myself had earned me to get bullied last time, maybe it was time to try out being someone else.
Adrien suddenly stood, grabbing his bag from beside the chair. "I'll drive myself," he muttered, his voice clipped and cold.
Keith frowned slightly. "Adrien, that's not necessary—"
"I said I'll drive myself," he repeated before walking out, not sparing a single glance at me or anyone else.
The silence that followed was heavy. Keith sighed and rubbed his temples while Mom tried to fill the awkward space with a nervous chuckle.
I just sat there, poking a slice of toast around with my fork. My stomach was too tight to eat anyway.
When Keith looked up at me, his expression eased. "Don't mind him, Noah. He'll come around sooner or later."
I just nodded, but I didn't believe it for a second. If Adrien Fell was going to come around, I hadn't seen it yet.