CHAPTER 489: HALF-DRUNK, HALF IN LOVE

Clyde sat on the edge of the bed, watching Micah’s sleeping face. The boy’s lashes trembled faintly with each breath, his silver hair messy against the pillow. Even asleep, a faint smirk lingered on his face.

He reached out and poked the boy’s cheek. "How can you sleep so soundly after giving me a heart attack with your carelessness?" he mumbled under his breath.

His fingers lingered there, the warmth of the boy’s skin seeping into his hand.

Micah’s brows knitted together in response.

Clyde’s expression softened.

He wanted to pull him close, to feel his heartbeat against his chest, sleep with him in his arms until morning.

But he stopped himself.

But first, he was drunk, too drunk to trust his own restraint. The alcohol still hummed in his veins, making his thoughts blur and his emotions sharpen.

Second of all, Darcy was in the next room. And with the way the man had glared at him earlier, Clyde knew he wouldn’t hesitate to come barging in if he thought something was off.

He let out a long breath, trying to stand up quickly. But before he could step away, a warm hand grabbed his wrist. "When did you come?" Micah’s voice was faint, slurred, and soft.

Clyde froze and looked down. The boy’s eyes were half-open, glossy with the glaze of intoxication. His cheeks were rosy, his lips slightly parted as he blinked up at Clyde. Clearly still drunk.

"A few minutes ago," Clyde said slowly, voice rough.

Micah tugged at his hand, his grip weak but desperate. "I missed you," he mumbled.

Clyde’s throat went dry. He could smell the faint scent of alcohol on Micah’s breath, sweet and sharp, mingling with the faint citrus soap he always used. His heart started to race.

This was too much. The temptation... the softness of Micah’s voice, the warmth of his touch, the way his sleepy eyes looked at him as if he was the only one in the world.

He gulped loudly, the sound echoing in the quiet room. Unable to help himself, he lowered his head, his breath brushing against Micah’s skin as he pressed his lips against the boy’s forehead. "Me too," he muttered.

The boy’s skin was hot beneath his lips. The simple touch made Clyde’s whole body ache with longing.

Micah didn’t let go; instead, he suddenly yanked at Clyde’s arm, pulling him down with surprising strength for someone so drunk.

Clyde stumbled forward, catching himself on the bed with one hand, trying not to crash into the boy. "Micah..." he said breathlessly. His heart was hammering against his ribs as he hovered over Micah’s body.

The boy stared at him, innocent and dazed. His pupils were dilated, his eyes hazy. There was no calculation there, no mischief, just a strange kind of warmth, raw and unguarded.

Clyde chuckled bitterly. "You’re really something."

He leaned sideways, reaching for Micah’s face. His thumb traced the faint redness near Micah’s eyes. "Why did you cry?"

Micah leaned into Clyde’s palm like a cat seeking warmth and petting. "Did I? I don’t remember..." His eyes stared back at him.

Clyde’s heart trembled as he cupped the boy’s face. "Micah... what you said on the phone yesterday, was it real?"

"What did I say?" Micah’s brows furrowed faintly.

Clyde hesitated, his breath catching. He leaned forward, his voice shaking. "That you love me?" he whispered.

The words had been stuck like a broken record from yesterday. The memory of that call was still fresh in his mind.

Out of the blue, the boy had blurted out something like that. Of course, Clyde hadn’t taken it seriously. He thought something had happened, that he was drunk or had hit his head. But the boy got angry and hung up on him.

Clyde had panicked. He had called his men, the ones he had left behind at that villa next door, desperate for answers.

The response he got made his heart stop. Micah nearly drowned, had almost died. And Darcy saved him.

The news shattered his composure; his emotions had gotten out of hand. He had been so close to losing Micah again. Nothing like that had ever happened in their countless past lives. Was it the first time? An accident? He feared the unknown more than anything after living for so many damn times.

He wanted to fly over to Micah, hugging the boy and never letting him out of his sight again.

However, his men informed him that they were coming back. So he endured it. He dismissed the bodyguards when they arrived in Isatis city. He couldn’t just brazenly monitor Micah here. The Ramsy family could easily pick up on that.

So he waited, pondering what had made Micah utter those words. Was it fear or confusion? Or...Did he even mean it?

But what pained him most was that he had lost the chance to say it back to Micah.

"Mmm, I do," Micah mumbled and nestled into Clyde’s arms.

For a second, Clyde felt fireworks exploding in his head. His hand trembled before it found Micah’s back. The boy’s body was warm against his arm, his breathing soft and even.

Clyde closed his eyes. His heart swelled so painfully that he had to let out a quiet laugh to breathe again. "I love you too," he whispered, his lips brushing against Micah’s ear.

Micah wiggled in his arms. "Let me sleep."

Clyde couldn’t help it. He smiled. A tired, foolish, helpless, resigned smile. He was out of his mind. Confessing to a boy too drunk to remember in the morning. Perhaps his courage was that small.

Clyde adjusted his position slightly as he hugged Micah more tightly. Pulling the blanket over them, he closed his eyes. He missed Micah too much. Every moment apart had felt like a punishment, not to mention how close he had been to losing him to the sea.

And now holding him like this, feeling the warmth of his body against his own, Clyde finally felt at peace.

I’ll deal with Darcy when the time comes. He thought to himself, already falling into slumber.