From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL) Chapter 578: The Day My Mouth Betrayed Me (Again)

Micah sat against the stiff hospital pillows, his back half arched like he couldn’t decide whether lying down or sitting up was more comfortable. His phone was plugged into the wall via the hospital cable, the bright screen lighting up his face every few seconds as he flicked it awake, stared at Clyde’s na, and then clicked it off again.

Call... or don’t call?

He chewed on his bottom lip, restless.

The man was late. And Micah was beginning to get anxious.

He shifted on the bed, glancing at the IV needle taped to the back of his hand in dismay. This stupid body had failed him more than once. It was getting on his nerves more than he wanted to admit.

His legs shifted under the blanket for the tenth ti. He crossed them then uncrossed them, sighing in exasperation.

The absence of the man tested his patience. Maybe sothing happened? Maybe Clyde didn’t hear his voice?

Micah groaned and flopped back against the headboard, dragging the blanket up to his chin like it might smooth the anxious thoughts filling his brain. He was two seconds away from calling when the door burst open.

Clyde practically stumbled inside, one hand braced on the doorfra, panting. His hair was ssy, slightly damp, like he had run all the way here from sowhere very far.

Micah, instead of smiling at the man, drew his eyebrows together and whined. "What took you so long?"

His voice echoed, long and spoiled like an offended cat that had been left waiting too long at the door.

Clyde didn’t answer imdiately. He strode toward him with quick steps, his gaze moving from the top of Micah’s head down to the IV line, checking every detail of his body and expression. "Why do you keep ending up in the hospital?" He said, exasperation and worry filling his voice. "I told you to take it easy. You need rest, Micah. If you keep pushing your limits like this, your body will give out ."

Micah’s expression froze for a second, and disbelief flashed in his eyes. "Hey!" he burst out, sitting up straighter. "Instead of consoling , what the hell are you scolding for? I already have a long line of family mbers to chew my ear off. I thought you of all people would comfort first!"

Clyde’s tight expression softened. He reached out and wrapped his arms around Micah, pulling him into a warm, firm hug. "Sorry..." he murmured, his breath brushing against Micah’s hair. "Your call nearly gave a heart attack. When I realised sothing was wrong... I was terrified sothing happened to you..."

Micah turned his head away, huffing. "Hmph... rather than asking how I was, you decided to attack ..."

Clyde chuckled against him, the sound low and warm. "I’m sorry. Truly. Don’t be angry. Tell what happened."

Micah nuzzled in Clyde’s arms, mumbling. "I accidentally drank sothing alcoholic."

Clyde pulled back slightly, frowning. "Accidentally?"

"Okay, fine, not accidentally. Soone must’ve switched it." Micah admitted.

Clyde tightened his hold. "Then, are you alright?"

"Yeah. It was just alcohol. No other substance," Micah said, voice casual. "But I missed the dinner. I bet a rumour is already going around saying I threw a tantrum to sabotage Darcy’s return."

Clyde rubbed Micah’s back gently. "Did you find who did it?"

"Aria and Willow are looking into it." Micah paused, looking up. "You are not surprised...Did Darcy contact you?"

"Yeah. I was checking a site in the suburbs when I got your call."Clyde let out a frustrated breath. "The network was so bad that I didn’t catch what you were saying. Then your phone was switched off."He swallowed hard, the movent sharp. "I almost lost it. Thankfully, Darcy called afterwards and told where you are."

Clyde explained, omitting the part where he had lost his mind in those few minutes.

His gaze drifted toward the watch lying on the bedside table.

Micah leaned back and followed the gaze to the watch. "Didn’t you say you could track with that?"

Clyde nodded once. "Yeah... but even so, I didn’t know what condition you were in. I had no idea what was happening to you..." He dropped his head on Micah’s shoulder.

"So what? You planning to glue yourself to 24/7 now?" Micah said.

"I know I am overreacting. But I can’t help it..." Clyde mumbled.

"Is it because of that dream?"

"Mmm," Clyde humd. "Every ti I close my eyes, I see you in that apartnt."

Micah sighed, half in exasperation, half in heartache. "What else did you see?" He asked, reaching up and gently combed his fingers through Clyde’s hair.

Clyde hesitated for a long ti. His arms slipped around Micah’s waist, pulling tighter.

"It was too horrible. I wish it had never happened. Even saying aloud makes scared."Clyde replied, voice low.

"Fine, I’ll do whatever you say," Micah said gently. "I don’t want to make you more miserable than you already are," Micah said gently.

What else could he do when the one he loved was this clingy? He should be a good lover and make him relaxed.

Clyde eventually pulled back enough to study Micah’s face. "Do you need to stay here overnight? Is it serious?"

"No, they said I can get discharged after the drip is finished," Micah replied looking at the IV bag that was slowly emptying.

"Good," Clyde said imdiately. "Let’s go to my place after. I’ll cook sothing for you. Sothing delicious."

"What? Luring with food?" Micah raised an eyebrow.

"Of course," Clyde said with zero sha. "It works every ti like a charm. My lover is such a foodie."

He smirked, amusent dancing in his eyes. He liked it when Micah behaved this lively, and he enjoyed teasing him more.

"You are such a lucky bastard. You know they say people with a big appetite... get hungry for other things too." Micah smirked, a wicked grin on his face.

Clyde froze for a second, realising what he ant. He lifted his hand and flicked Micah’s forehead. "Behave. You are still young."

"Hey! I am already nineteen." Micah protested. "Do you know how many tis I’ve had wet dreams? Sooner or later I need to experience it, otherwise, I am really worried my body gets ..." The rest of his words got stuck in his throat, seeing Clyde’s eyes darkening.

Micah cleared his throat, avoiding eting his eyes. "Uhum...anyway..."

Clyde leaned closer, his voice low and almost too gentle. "Oh? Who did you dream about?"

Micah panicked. "Nothing. I misspoke..." He waved his free hand frantically. "Is it a d side effect?" He frowned, trying to brush off his faux pas.

Like hell he would say the truth. His stupid mouth! He spoke again without thinking. His mother was right. His mouth leaked secrets faster than a cracked pot leaked water. And now, look, he had dug his own grave.

How could he possibly tell Clyde that he had a wet dream about him, doing this and that?

Oh god... just kill him, strike him with lightning, anything he didn’t care. With the way Clyde was looking at him, Micah was sure he would not give up until he got the answer out of him.