From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL)-Chapter 579: Not the Time, Not the Place, Definitely Not the Finger
Clyde’s arms tightened around Micah’s waist, dragging him close until his forehead nearly touched. His voice dropped low, deep, and deceptively patient. "Is it someone you can’t say?" He asked, brushing his thumb over the small of Micah’s back. "Was it a woman? Or a guy?" His eyes narrowed dangerously.
Micah wanted to cry but had no tears. Why did he open his mouth? How could he put himself in such a stupid situation? A total disadvantage... God, he regretted it so much.
It didn’t matter how he replied to this question, he would end up at the short end of the stick. If he said it was a stranger, Clyde’s jealousy would kill him. If he said the truth, that it was Clyde, Micah was sure this bastard would tease him until the end of the world. Asking what he was doing in the dream and all, what position, whether he enjoyed it or not...
Micah could already imagine the outcome, Clyde leaning back with that smug look...
He internally screamed.
Clyde lifted his hand and gently caught Micah’s chin, turning his head to face him. "Won’t you tell me?" he murmured. "Then...Should I take matters into my own hands?"
Micah pursed his lips, refusing to answer.
Clyde traced a finger across Micah’s lips. The touch was soft at first, then pressed harder, as if coaxing them apart.
Micah opened his mouth to bite that annoying finger, but Clyde slipped it inside instead. The finger went straight inside his mouth until it touched his tongue. Micah’s teeth came down on the finger, tasting it.
Micah’s eyes widened, horrified.
Clyde pulled out his damp finger and then trailed down along the line of Micah’s jaw, neck, and toward his collarbone.
Micah shivered, alarmed. "What are you doing? We are in the hospital." He choked, eyes popping out.
"We can do this the easy way," Clyde whispered, his breath brushing against Micah’s ear. "Or the hard way."
Micah grabbed his wrist, but Clyde barely budged.
"You could just whisper the name in my ear" Clyde continued. His hand slid down the fabric of Micah’s hoodie, slow and deliberate. "Or I’ll do my thing until you are forced to confess..."
Micah gritted his teeth. "You jerk! You know who it is and you’re still torturing me?"
"Do I? You never said the name. How can I know? I was not in your dream." Clyde said teasingly.
Micah shot daggers at him, ready to die rather than confess.
Clyde leaned even closer, his hand finding the hem of Micah’s hoodie as a teasing smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
And then... knock. Knock. The door swung open and a nurse came inside. She froze at the scene.
Micah was not any better. His face turned crimson being caught like this. Even though he had a thick skin in almost anything, this one was his weakness. When it came to intimacy, his confidence vanished.
He violently elbowed Clyde in the ribs.
Clyde didn’t even flinch. He only turned to the nurse, his expression composed and polite as if seconds ago he hadn’t been threatening to seduce a confession out of someone. He nodded at the nurse politely.
The nurse blinked hard, clearly unsure if she should apologise or leave the room immediately. "Aah..." she stammered before regaining her professional tone. "I came to disconnect your IV line..."
Micah stretched his hand toward her silently, eyes darting anywhere except meeting her.
The nurse quickly pulled away the IV needle and said. "You can go home now. The doctor prescribed some medicine for you too."
"Thank you," Clyde replied.
The nurse nodded, eyeing them several times before leaving the room.
The moment the door was shut, Micah turned his back to Clyde, giving him the silent treatment. He resembled a puffed-up hedgehog attempting to protect itself.
Clyde let out a soft, pleased laugh behind him.
Micah tensed. Crap. He knew. He absolutely knew the dream was about him.
Clyde didn’t tease further. He only looked at Micah with a strange fondness, thoughts hidden behind a faint smile. If he weren’t this young and their future wasn’t this unpredictable... maybe he would have acted more boldly. But the timing wasn’t right. He should get rid of any possible threat to Micah before he gets more intimate with him.
He walked toward the door. "I’ll go sort out your discharge papers."
Micah didn’t answer, sulking.
When the door was closed, Micah stood up, groaning loudly. His mood swung from mortification to more irritation. He paced around the room, thinking that if he left with Clyde, the man would tease him all the way to morning, until he confessed.
Micah’s stubborn pride roared awake like a furious lion. No. He wasn’t going to give Clyde the satisfaction.
He decided to leave without Clyde. The man was monitoring him anyway. He looked at the watch on his wrist, the one Clyde had gifted him before.
He stepped out of the room, peeking left and right. No, Clyde. Coast clear. Good.
He walked quickly toward the staircase. If he could just get out of the building and call a taxi...
He stopped mid-step. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a figure of someone familiar. A tall, stern figure...
Micah’s heart plummeted straight into his shoes.
Shit! The plot was too scary.... What the hell was Silas doing here?
He ducked behind a pillar immediately, his body pressed flat against the cold surface. He dared to peek out from the side, one eye open.
Silas was standing with another man. Broad-shoulders, dressed in a dark coat. His hair was black. His posture was stiff, formal.
Micah squinted.
Wait...
Wasn’t that... the Lobart guy.
The older brother of that awkward guy from the shooting club.
He crouched slightly, trying not to make a sound as he strained to hear their conversation. But they were too far. Their voices were muffled, drowned out by the hum of the hospital’s ventilation and the distant beeping of machines.
What the fuck were they doing here?
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