From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL)-Chapter 588: When the Truth Finally Met (part two)

Micah sat stiffly in the middle of the bed, fingers digging into the blanket. He didn’t dare to blink. Not when Clyde lay in front of him on the bed, lips sealed. Micah’s chest ached with every breath, but he kept his gaze locked on Clyde, desperate to catch even the smallest twitch of emotion. "By any chance, was it about a book?" 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

Clyde’s expression shifted, sitting up with unsteady breath. He reached out and cupped his cheeks with both hands. "You too?"

Seeing his reaction, Micah realised that this bastard probably knew more than he let on. So what was the point of hiding?

"I know this world is just a book. That it...reset," Micah said, voice low.

Clyde just stared at him in silence at first, then like a switch was flipped on, his eyes reddened instantly. Yet, no words came out. His hands left Micah’s cheeks as if the life was drained from them. The silence slowly crawled under Micah’s skin like cold water spreading through cloth.

He searched Clyde’s face, trying to decipher anything from it. His expression wavered between shock, confusion, and sadness.

Unease crept into Micah’s mind. The way Clyde had gone silent made him question his assumption. Did he guess wrong?

"What about you?" He asked, his voice gone from panic to sharp. "Start talking before I snap."

Clyde’s expression turned weary. He dropped his head, contemplating how to say it. No. Could he even come clean to Micah? Saying he had lived countless times? Wouldn’t that make him seem like something inhuman? That wasn’t the only reason Clyde was tongue-tied. Confessing to his shortcomings, to his own failure to protect Micah was eating him alive. Clyde’s fingers tightened on his sides, his lips parted then closed again.

Micah gritted his teeth and moved closer. "What do you know? Did you dream about the book?" He pressed, not moving his gaze an inch from the silent man. "Speak!" His voice cracked. He surged forward and grabbed Clyde by both shoulders, shaking him hard. "Have you gone mute? God damn it! Just say something!"

Clyde stared at him with a strange, almost haunted expression. His lips parted, only a shaky breath escaped.

"Did you dream about a book or...?" Micah repeated, hopeful. His heart desperately wanted the answer to be yes. Something normal, something familiar. Something that meant Clyde was on his side. But the expression Clyde wore shattered his hope. "Are you like them?" He whispered, voice trembling.

For a second, Micah thought maybe Clyde was like the ones who transmigrated, those outsiders who treated this world like a story. Did he also have a system and all?

His heart felt cold. Did he think of him as a character in a book? Did he look at him and others as if they were a pawn, a stepping stone? Not worthy of caring about their lives and deaths? Like their suffering didn’t matter? Like a character who could be rewritten or discarded without consequences?

Colours drained from his face the more he thought about it. No.... It couldn’t be. Did he do all of that for the sake of some points? For tasks? For some system, he was obeying? Did Clyde even love him for real?

The thought alone made Micah sway.

Micah would rather die ignorant than hear the answer.

Clyde jolted out of his daze the moment a tear landed on his arm. His head snapped up, looking at Micah in fright. "What?"

Micah hadn’t realised he was crying until Clyde’s reaction forced him back into the moment. He quickly wiped at his face, but more tears slipped out. His voice came thin and hoarse. "Are you one of them?"

Clyde’s expression filled with confusion. Frowning, he asked, "One of them? Whose them?"

Micah bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste metal. His hands slumped down. "Forget it." He turned away, scared by the answer he would get. "It doesn’t matter anymore."

Clyde’s chest ached noticing Micah’s defeated appearance. He felt that if he let this go, if he let the misunderstanding or whatever it was settle, the rift between him and Micah would grow into something impossible to repair. He grabbed Micah’s shoulders quickly, almost desperate. "Wait...I wasn’t ignoring you. I was just organising my thoughts."

Micah stared down at his knees, motionless. He looked like someone waiting for a verdict that would destroy him.

"I don’t know how to say it. It sounds unbelievable even to me. But... if you already know this world is just a book, then maybe you will accept what I’m about to say next..." Clyde gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbling hard. "I... I live.."

Micah reached out and clamped his hand on Clyde’s mouth. "Stop. I don’t want to hear it." Micah couldn’t take it anymore. Who was he kidding? Did it even matter that Clyde’s feelings were false or real? Was it just trying to fool him? In the end, he was in love with this bastard. Whatever Clyde did, Micah was sure he would forgive him, would still love him, cherish him. So what was the point of opening this can of worms? Was he a masochist? Like torturing himself?

He lowered his gaze. His eyelashes were wet, clumped together.

Clyde’s brows drew together, stupefied. Micah’s hand was warm and shaking. He mumbled, voice muffled. "What are you doing?"

Micah didn’t answer. The lamplight cast a soft glow over his face, illuminating the pain etched into every line. His hazel eyes shimmered, too bright, too raw. Clyde found himself staring at them, drawn in as if the entire universe was trapped behind that trembling gaze.

Micah’s lips trembled. "Don’t... don’t say it..." he sucked in a shaky breath. "It’s a curse, isn’t it?"

Every time someone said it... Every time the truth came out... happiness disappeared. Everything broke. He squeezed his eyes shut, tears slipping free again. He didn’t want to lose what they had.

Micah stifled a sob. Why was his life this hard? The love of his life, his first love was seconds away from tearing apart his heart.