From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL) Chapter 189: A Drunken Koala and the Suffering of One Darcy

As soon as they arrived at the clinic, Micah barely made it past the front door before doubling over and throwing up.

The chaos that followed didn’t settle until Micah was finally lying on the bed, pale and exhausted. After receiving antacids, fluids, and a shot of benzodiazepine, he drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Darcy sat beside the bed, watching him with an intense look. He replayed everything that had happened from the mont Micah got drunk.

A part of him was happy because, in Micah’s eyes, he was handso, he was special. Even drunk, Micah had been fond of him, treating him with a warmth that made Darcy’s chest tighten.

But beneath that fragile happiness, Darcy faced a truth he hadn’t let himself acknowledge until now. There was another kind of desire tangled in his heart.

He couldn’t forget the way Micah had looked at him. That drunken affection, that soft voice calling him brother. That warmth in his eyes....the way Micah’s warm body clung to him, those droopy eyes, his flushed face pressed close, his breath warm against Darcy’s neck, sothing inside Darcy had sparked, sothing he hadn’t wanted to na before.

He wanted to make a ss of him even more... that thought, sharp and wild, flashed through his mind like lightning.

Darcy lowered his gaze, disgusted with himself. He felt dirty. How could he have this kind of desire for Micah? The boy clung to him out of trust, not those ssy thoughts.

Darcy clenched his fists. What was wrong with him? How could he even think like that about Micah? He looked at Micah’s peaceful face. Darcy scolded himself, pushing the feelings down.

He didn’t know what to do with them, didn’t know where they began. All he knew was...He wanted Micah. Badly.

************

About an hour later Micah stirred. His eyes blinked open slowly as he ca to his senses. His head ached, and his mouth tasted sour. The mory hit him like a truck. He had drunk. A lot!

He shifted on the bed, the stiff sheets rustling beneath him. He looked around, trying to avoid Darcy’s eyes, and then slowly pulled the blanket over his face like a scared turtle.

"Sorry," Micah mumbled from under the blanket, his voice muffled.

Darcy stood beside the bed, arms crossed tightly over his chest. His brows were drawn. "I left you alone for ten minutes..." he said in a low grumble.

Micah peeked out with only one eye. "I was just craving a little, and then I lost control..."

Darcy let out a scoff and looked away. "That’s why you turned into Drunken Joe?"

Micah groaned under the blanket and tugged it back over his face again. What was he thinking drinking like that? Had he said sothing he shouldn’t have?

What if he had spilled the beans? Did he tell Darcy everything? From swapped identity to those four male leads? Had he lost his mind?

No, no... that should not be the case. Darcy wasn’t reacting like soone who had just learned the truth. If anything, he seed more annoyed than confused and suspicious.

He probably blurted sothing related to Darcy... think, think... Micah held his temples, trying hard to rember what he had said. Still, there was a fuzzy image in his head, blurry and incomplete, of him hanging on Darcy, practically climbing him like a koala. What had he said?

Before he could sort it out, the blanket was tugged away from his face. Startled, Micah flinched.

Darcy leaned over. "Hey, young master..." his voice had an edge. Sharp. Teasing. Dangerous.

Micah stiffened. Shit! Darcy was angry. Really angry!

Micah shot up on the bed, nearly ripping out the IV. He sat on his knees, hands clasped in front of him like he was begging for rcy. "Sorry! I swear it won’t happen again!"

Darcy raised an eyebrow and slowly sat down on the edge of the bed. "Which one?"

Micah lowered his hands. "Huh?"

"What won’t happen again?"

"Drinking, of course!" Micah said.

"Oh," Darcy’s voice lowered as he leaned closer, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Big brother, did you forget your offer?" he whispered.

Goosebumps prickled up Micah’s spine. "What? Big brother?"

"Aren’t you? You called affectionately your handso little brother. Groping everywhere," Darcy said, staring at Micah’s eyes. "Offering to sleep over at your place..."

Micah’s entire body flushed red. "Stop talking nonsense."

Darcy tilted his head, pretending to be hurt. "So, you just wanted to eat my tofu and be done with it? What a scumbag."

"Ahh!" Micah wailed, burying his face into his palms. "You’re not Darcy! My Darcy would never talk like that!"

"Imagine my shock. You clinging to , calling sweet nas. I thought I was hallucinating!" Darcy leaned back with a short laugh.

Micah curled up tighter on the bed, wishing the ground swallow him whole.

"Is it like this every ti you get drunk?" Darcy asked, half-joking, half-serious.

"No," Micah muttered into his hands.

He thought back to the past. If he had been this unguarded before, those so-called friends would have definitely recorded it. Maybe even taking advantage of him. But there was none...

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I am sorry. Just please drop it!" Micah begged.

Darcy watched Micah’s reaction, a bit pleased. Good. He was the only one.

He couldn’t imagine Micah acting this way with anyone else.

Darcy’s teasing faded. He sat there quietly, gaze lingering on Micah’s bowed head. For a mont he didn’t speak.

He didn’t ask why Micah drank so recklessly. Who was that jerk he had ntioned?

He didn’t want a repeat of that unpleasant argunt. If Micah wanted to talk, he would.

He only ant to ss with Micah a little, to make sure he wouldn’t drink again.

anwhile, Micah felt mortified. The embarrassnt. Ah... what was he? So creepy dude? What was the difference between him and those male leads?! Taking advantage of Darcy like that?!

He paused, rembering Silas, the third male lead. Didn’t he use the excuse of being drunk to have his way with Darcy? Then shalessly saying he had mistaken him for his first love? Ugh... it was gross. Disgusting.

Micah gagged, suddenly overwheld by nausea again.

Darcy stood up quickly, alard. He grabbed a paper bag and gently placed it in front of Micah. His other hand moved to support Micah’s back. "Here."

Micah’s hand shot out and grasped Darcy’s wrist, holding it tighter than intended. His breathing was shaky. He tried to calm down, but the mory of Silas wouldn’t go away. The image of Darcy being mistreated like that...

Even though it had been a long ti since he had that vivid dream, he still could not stomach Silas.

Aidan was worse than Silas in the story, yet sohow, Silas repulsed him more.

His grip tightened on Darcy.

Darcy winced. "Micah."

Realising what he was doing, Micah jerked his hand back. "Sorry."

"Stop apologising," Darcy said gently. "I am just worried about you." Darcy sensed Micah’s reaction was off.

"I’m fine, now. Let’s just go back. The dorm’s gonna lock soon. And we have an appointnt tomorrow." Micah said, trying to sit straighter.

Darcy hesitated. He looked at the IV still dripping, then at Micah’s pale face. He didn’t want to push, not when Micah was like this. After a beat, he nodded. He called a nurse and helped with the IV removal. Then, without a word, he let Micah lean on him as they walked out. It was late. But they eventually got a taxi.

During the ride, neither of them spoke.

Micah was lost in thought, sitting still. His mind kept drifting to the novel and Darcy’s future.

Darcy kept sneaking glances at him. He wanted to get close to him, wanted to turn his head toward himself, wanted to wrap his arm around Micah like when he was drunk...

Darcy shut his eyes forcefully. No, he couldn’t...

Darcy looked away, hiding the twist in his expression.

He loved Micah. There was no denying that.

His heart pounded inside his chest, loud and terrified. What was he supposed to do now?