The Enemy Who Loves Me

FIONA POV

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### Fiona's POV

"Ahhhhh!" I screamed, clutching my throbbing head as a sharp headache hammered against my skull.

Flashes of last night flooded my mind—blurry images that slowly sharpened into vivid, undeniable memories. My breath hitched.

Wait a second…

I sat up abruptly. My eyes widened as the realization slammed into me.

"AHHHH! I KISSED ADRIAN!" I shrieked, burying my burning face in my hands.

Oh. My. God.

Not only did I kiss him—I was the one who initiated it! And it wasn't just a kiss. No, it was intense. I could still feel the heat of his lips, the way he had taken control, deepening it until I couldn't breathe.

I unconsciously brushed my fingers against my lips.

"That was my first kiss…" I whispered, feeling the warmth spread from my lips down to my chest.

But the moment of flustered excitement was short-lived.

I froze.

Then a new, much darker realization crashed down on me.

I TOLD HIM MY REAL NAME.

Panic shot through me like lightning.

"What have I done?!" I groaned, tugging at my hair.

He must've noticed something was off. He already looked suspicious last night. What if he connects the dots? What if he finds out—

No. Stop.

I shook my head violently. There was no time for unnecessary thoughts.

I had school. And I was already running late.

Jumping off the bed, I sprinted into the bathroom, took the fastest shower of my life, and threw on my uniform. Without even checking my reflection, I rushed down the stairs.

Just as I reached for the door handle—

"Fiona."

I froze mid-step.

Turning, I found Felix standing a few feet away, arms crossed, his usual unreadable expression on his face.

"Before you leave, drink the hangover tea on the table," he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Before I could even attempt to refuse, he walked away. Not that I was going to argue.

I sighed, rubbing my temples. The pounding in my head was relentless.

Fine.

Dragging myself to the table, I grabbed the cup and downed the tea in a single gulp, wincing at the bitter taste.

"Ugh…" I grimaced but immediately felt the relief settling in.

Grabbing my bag, I bolted out the door.

"Thank God," I muttered in relief as I spotted a bus approaching without having to wait.

I waved the driver down, swiped my pass, and hopped on.

The ride to school was a blur.

—

By some miracle, I made it just in time.

The moment I slid into my seat, the teacher walked in.

The first class passed in a flash. My mind was too occupied to focus. I kept glancing around, hoping to see him—but Adrian never showed up.

A pang of disappointment settled in my chest.

Why did I even care?

Shaking off the feeling, I refocused. It was time for sports class, which meant…

My heart sank.

How am I going to change?!

—

Standing outside the boys' changing room, I chewed my lip anxiously.

I couldn't just walk in and strip like the others.

An idea struck.

I lingered outside, pretending to be busy with my shoelaces, waiting until all the boys had changed and left. A few of them cast me weird looks, but I ignored them.

Once the coast was clear, I took a deep breath and slipped inside.

The room was empty.

Good.

I was about to take off my shirt when—

A shadow fell over me.

I turned, my breath catching as my gaze locked onto him.

Adrian.

He strolled into the room like he owned it, exuding that same effortless confidence. But what made my heart race wasn't just his presence—it was his gaze.

Dark. Intense. Focused.

On me.

"Why haven't you changed?" His voice was low, calm—but something about it sent a shiver down my spine.

"I—I was just about to," I stammered, taking a step back.

He tilted his head slightly. "I've been watching you," he murmured, his voice almost teasing. "You waited for all the guys to leave before coming in."

My throat went dry.

"I just— I don't like changing in front of people," I blurted.

Adrian arched a brow. A small smirk played on his lips.

"Then change in front of me."

My eyes widened. "What?!"

"We're both boys, right?" He stepped closer.

I instinctively stepped back, only to feel the cold wall press against my back.

His smirk deepened.

"Go on," he whispered, voice dripping with amusement.

I shot him a glare and tried to push him away.

Big mistake.

Before I could react, his hand shot out, grabbing my wrist. In one swift motion, he spun me around, pinning me against the wall.

My breath hitched.

He was close. Too close.

One of his hands rested firmly against the wall beside my head, while the other…

Was on my waist.

My pulse skyrocketed.

I had been close to guys before. Flirted with them. Teased them. But this—this was different.

His touch didn't make my skin crawl like those perverted old men who tried to get too close.

No.

It made my skin burn.

A strange, fluttering sensation filled my stomach, making me feel weak.

"What do you want?" I forced myself to ask, trying to sound unfazed.

His lips brushed against my ear as he whispered,

"I want you to change."

His breath was warm, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine.

I swallowed hard. "I—I can do it myself."

Adrian hummed, unconvinced.

His fingers tightened slightly around my waist, and my body betrayed me—heat crept up my neck.

"Wha… What are you doing?" I stammered, my voice embarrassingly weak.

His gaze lowered, landing on my lips.

I sucked in a sharp breath.

And then—

I felt it.

The slow, deliberate brush of his fingers.

Lifting my shirt.

Little by little.