From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL) Chapter 92: Soft Around Him

Darcy had long noticed the black car parked just a short distance from where he stood. Its tinted windows didn’t do much to hide the faint outline of soone inside. The mont Silas turned away and walked off, Darcy let out a long breath and ran a hand through his hair. Then, with calm but unmistakable purpose, he turned and strode toward the parked car. He stood beside the back seat window and rapped on the half-opened glass with his knuckles, startling the boy inside.

"Hey," Darcy said, arching an eyebrow. "Have you listened enough?!"

Inside the car, Micah jumped as if he had been jabbed with a needle. "Ah, uh...I didn’t know if I should butt into your conversation or not," he stamred, scratching the back of his neck.

Darcy stared at him with a smile. "What now? Can I get in? Or do you plan to spy on the entire day?"

"Of course, get in," Micah blurted, fumbling with the handle. He got off and grabbed Darcy’s suitcase before Driver Dan could even move.

"I’ve got it!" Micah said a little too loudly, opening the boot and tossing it in. He moved with a kind of clumsy eagerness, hoping to make up for the fact that he had been caught red-handed.

Driver Dan raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He had seen the young master act a million ways around different people, but this nervous series of motions was new.

By the ti Micah slid back into the seat beside Darcy, his face was already flushed with embarrassnt. The atmosphere in the back seat turned awkward fast.

He fumbled with the hem of his hoodie, not knowing what to say.

Darcy buckled his seatbelt calmly, but from the corner of his eye, he noticed Micah’s small nervous movents. His expression softened. "Let see your hand."

"Huh?" Micah turned toward him, blinking.

"Your hand. The one you burned."

Micah extended his hand quickly. He had taken off the bandage last night in his sleep. And in the morning, he just stuck a large plaster on it.

Darcy frowned. "Why would you use this? A plaster traps the heat in and doesn’t allow the burn to breathe. And the adhesive might irritate the skin even more." Darcy said disapprovingly. He lightly pressed around the wound, checking the edges.

"When we get to the dorm, let clean and bandage it properly."

Micah nodded quickly. "Okay."

Driver Dan watched the interaction from the rearview mirror, eyes subtly darting back and forth. He had seen young master Micah around dozens of young people, especially those rich second-generation kids, but the boy had never looked this obedient. This soft...

Toward them, he was cold and aloof, even arrogant. He was sowhat llow toward the Ramsy family, but his behaviour toward this dark-haired young man was totally different from others. Who was this guy?!

Suddenly, he felt a chilling stare at his back. He turned his gaze from young master Micah and t those black eyes. He quickly averted his eyes. Those eyes, he had seen them before. Cold and sharp. Familiar. Driver Dan stiffened. That look was the exact sa one Albert Ramsy, the patriarch, had given him when he had done sothing wrong.

Driver Dan gulped and focused on the road.

They arrived at QC University within twenty minutes. The campus was already buzzing with new students dragging luggage, parents offering last-minute advice, and volunteers trying to maintain so order.

"Do you need help, young master?" Driver Dan asked.

Micah had already stepped out. "No, we’re good. Thanks anyway." Micah said, already pulling the suitcases out and wheeling them.

The road to the general building was lined with eager students. Flyers flapped on lampposts, and welco banners were hung between trees.

"Hey! Freshn! This way for check-in!" A student volunteer called out, waving a neon sticker above his head, guiding the new students to queue for their registration.

Micah and Darcy waited in line. The two, with their contrasting appearance, one with black hair and eyes and the other with eye-catching white hair and glasses, attracted many glances from onlookers.

When they reached the registration desk, the girl behind it paused for a second, blinking rapidly before asking their nas.

Receiving their keys, Micah frowned. "Oh, I am in room 306. What about you??"

"In room 422," Darcy said.

"Damn, you are on whole floor above !" Micah complained with disappointnt.

"At least we are in the sa building," Darcy gave him a faint smile.

"True, with this many students, even that’s a miracle," Micah admitted, scratching his cheek.

They went up to Micah’s room first. When the door opened, two boys were already inside.

"Hey! Are you new roommates?" one of them spoke, a tall guy with a buzzcut.

Micah nodded. "Hi, it’s just ."

"Hi! I am Nick, and this is Eddie," said the shorter boy with a dimpled chin.

"Micah. This is my friend Darcy."

"Which bed do you want?" Darcy asked, pointing to the two empty beds.

Micah moved toward the one near the door. "This one’s fine."

He knelt beside the bed, attempting to spread the cover, but fumbled one corner and nearly dropped the blanket.

"Let help. Don’t overwork your hand." Darcy said, already setting his bag and suitcase aside.

As Darcy efficiently arranged the sheets and placed a few essentials on the desk, Micah leaned on the bed fra, chatting with Nick and Eddie about where they were from. Occasionally, he instructed Darcy about what was what and where it went.

This was the scene when a boy with ruffled chestnut hair and a pout stord in, dragging a suitcase behind him. He paused for a second, then turned back, pointing to Darcy. "Look! Others bring servants to help them move in! But you didn’t let !"

Behind him, another man followed, struggling to haul two heavy bags inside.

Emile’s voice made the room freeze. Micah turned his head sharply, realising what the newcor implied.

"What did you say?" he glared at the young man.

Darcy, unfazed, smoothed the last corner of the blanket and stood. "Let’s go to my room to get rid of that plaster. I brought a proper first aid kit."

Micah glanced at Darcy’s calm, indifferent expression and swallowed his curses. He had already eavesdropped on Darcy’s conversation with Silas, had failed to take care of his burned hand properly, and now picking a fight with the new boy would just add to the list.

He followed Darcy out of the room, glaring at the newcor.

Emile, still standing at the doorway, blinked in confusion.

Dean stood helplessly aside. His cousin, one second after arriving, had already managed to stir up trouble and made one of his roommates hostile.

Today was going to be a long day.