Chapter 305: Under the Weight of a Stare

Chapter 305: Under the Weight of a Stare


Back in the condo, Micah quickly knocked on Soha’s door.


It creaked open slightly, revealing Soha’s bloodshot eyes.


Micah blinked, startled, before clearing his throat. "Umm, Sister Soha, I’m heading back... it was nice to meet you," he said, scratching his cheek.


He had only meant to politely say goodbye and give a heads-up about their leaving. But Soha’s appearance had caught him off guard.


Micah was sure his last night’s ruckus had kept this poor girl awake.


Soha tilted her head, noticing Clyde standing downstairs with a bag in his hand, ready to leave. A small smile touched her lips. "Yeah. Me too," she said, then fished out her phone. "Let’s add each other. If you need any help, you can count on me."


Micah exchanged contacts, puzzled by the sudden burst of friendliness. Still, he offered a polite farewell and went to join Clyde.


Soha stood in the doorway for a moment, watching them go. Then she jumped behind her laptop, her fingers already flying across the keys, her expression bright with renewed focus.


*******


Micah settled into the passenger seat, his body finally free from that invisible tension he usually carried. His head rested loosely against the seatback, one leg bent lazily while the other stayed still, no restless tapping, no impatient shifting.


Clyde noticed instantly. The usual sharp edge in Micah’s presence had dulled into something softer, calmer. It was as if the boy had set down a burden he had carried for too long, like someone who had finally found their footing again. Sharing that burden with him had changed Micah, and Clyde could see it.


The faintest smile touched Clyde’s lips before he could stop it. Watching Micah like this... it made something in his chest feel uncomfortably warm. Maybe he should have been more open with Micah sooner. If he had, maybe Micah wouldn’t have spent so long tied up in knots, all stressed out. Hadn’t he already helped Micah before? When Leo’s situation threatened to link back to Micah? Clyde had erased every possible trail connecting Micah to it, quietly and discreetly.


But Micah had no idea.


Clyde’s lips pressed into a thin line, and the wrinkles on his forehead deepened. Maybe he had been an idiot, thinking that protecting him without explanation was the best way to help.


He glanced at him, then broke the silence. "Didn’t you say Leo Mackay was one of the people who went after Darcy and you? Why did you help him then?"


Micah’s head jerked toward him, his posture tightening. "How do you know that?"


Clyde’s eyes stayed on the road, but his tone was dry. "Of course I know. You suddenly showed up at that fan meeting, then started arguing with Aidan Wilson in the lounge. It was too eye-catching not to notice. So I dug up a little deeper after I realised you were the one cross-dressing." He gave him a brief sideways glance. "Do you know the military was searching for you? And the twilight entertainment, too?"


Micah’s mouth turned into an O shape. "Military? Why?"


"Ah... you are really..." Clyde sighed, shaking his head once in disbelief. "Leo’s family has connections in the military."


"Oh..." Micah leaned back again, processing. For a moment, his gaze slid over Clyde’s profile, and something unreadable passed over his face. He had been really lucky that Clyde knew about him and decided to help him.


"Thank you..." Micah mumbled. "I just... couldn’t watch him get ruined for the things that might never happen. I am not that evil."


Clyde’s hands shifted on the steering wheel, his knuckles tightening for a brief moment. "Oh, well, I know you are soft-hearted and impulsive... but next time." He exhaled through his nose. "Please, let the professionals handle it. The Police are not just for show."


Micah nodded, his lips twitched in a faint, sheepish smile. "I’ll try..."


Clyde shot him a sideways look, sceptical but choosing not to press further. That was good enough for now.


The car fell into silence. Micah reached for the console and put on some music. Something soft and mellow. The kind of sound that made the space between them feel warmer.


He let his gaze drift out the window at first, watching trees slide by. But after a while, his attention wandered back to the driver beside him. His head tilted slightly, eyes staring at the man with an intensity that bore a hole into him.


Clyde kept his focus on the road, but he could feel the weight of that stare, each second stretching until it almost prickled at the edge of his awareness. He tolerated it for a few minutes before speaking, his voice low and a little hoarse. "Do you want to ask something?"


Contrary to what his friends thought, he wasn’t made of stone. Micah’s eyes weren’t the same now. They carried a shift, subtle but impossible to ignore. Clyde had noticed it before, chosen to turn away from it. But here, in the close confines of the car, it was harder to pretend.


Micah blinked, caught for a moment, then shook his head. "No..."


But inside, his thoughts raced and refused to settle. He wanted to ask if nothing had happened last night, when they had slept together. Really? Not even a hug? A brush of his hair?


Was that just a dream? That suffocating feeling...was it because Clyde had stolen a kiss from him? Or done something else? Or... was Clyde so unmoved by him that the thought never crossed his mind?


Micah told himself he was overthinking. And yet, the ghost of that dream lingered, making him restless.


That gentle, lingering brush of lips against his forehead, the warmth that had followed, was the root of all his suffering. If not for that, he would have never had that impure dream.


Earlier, he was too caught up in the embarrassment to realise what exactly that meant.


That kiss, then that dream... they all made his chest tighten, left him jittery. He wanted, no, needed, to snuggle into Clyde’s arms, to close that deliberate distance and rest against him. Not out of lust, it wasn’t about that. It was about the way Clyde’s presence quieted the restless churn in him.


But now... Now it felt impossible. Things between them were too stiff. He didn’t like it.


And before he could touch Clyde’s face, his arm or body, without thinking much of it. But knowing, really knowing, that there was feeling between them changed everything. Teasing would take on a different weight. Every brush of skin would mean more.


And honestly, Micah wasn’t sure he wanted that shift. What he wanted was simple.


He just wanted to be close to Clyde.