Chapter 455: This Micah Was Different (part one)
Darcy sat motionless on the couch in the villa’s living room, waiting for Micah’s arrival. The ticking clock filled the silence, every second dragging longer than the last. His fingers drummed once against his knee before stopping. He hated waiting, but this was different. He wanted to see Micah with his own eyes.
And at last, the faint click of the door broke through the stillness, and the door slowly swung open.
Darcy lifted his gaze immediately. A figure stepped in, white-silver hair catching the soft light spilling through the door. His steps were casual, his posture relaxed, yes, that same familiar carelessness that made Darcy’s eyes narrow. Even after all this time, he could recognise him with just a glance.
Those same round hazel eyes, the faint curl at the corner of his lips that always looked like the start of a smirk, that loose, almost lazy posture that made him seem comfortable in his own skin.
Micah looked up and paused when he spotted him there.
"Hey," Micah called out. Confusion flickered over his face.
That voice, that easy, careless way of greeting people...
Darcy had to remind himself: don’t react. His pulse thundered, but his face stayed still.
He blinked slowly, forcing his breathing to steady. He couldn’t give himself away, not yet. He knew his eyes and his expression were different from the Darcy Micah knew this time. He masked his emotions.
The young man shut the door behind him and walked over. He crossed the living room and plopped down on the couch beside him with a soft thud.
Darcy’s gaze flicked sideways. The way Micah sat, shoulders loose, one leg bent, elbow resting casually against the couch arm, showed how at ease he was with him. The young man’s subconscious trusted him, was comfortable with him, as he had done it thousands of times before. No one could hide his body language so thoroughly. Then Micah spoke.
"I decided to go back tomorrow. I already told my mum to pick us up."
Darcy’s fingers twitched against his knee. Mum? He tried to piece together what this timeline was, what their relationship might be. His memories were still jumbled, fragments that slipped through his mind like a blur. Did he have a good relationship with the Ramsy family right now?
He stayed quiet too long.
"Mm? Why aren’t you saying anything?" Micah asked.
Darcy lifted his gaze. "Good," he said simply, voice flat, stripped of emotion. He needed time to think, to understand. For now, he would just go with the flow until the rest of his memories settled.
Micah turned to him. "Hey, are you..." He paused. "Did you tell your mum and Nora?"
Darcy frowned. Was there something else going on?
"About what?" he asked.
"That you are here. Or about my..." Micah said. "About me?"
"Mm," Darcy hummed. "They know."
He didn’t actually know, but he trusted himself enough to assume he would never leave without making sure the two were okay. So he had already told them he was here, right?
Darcy studied the young man. His demeanour changed slightly. He was fidgeting. Nervous. Oh? So his act was near its limit?
His body might have felt at ease sitting next to Darcy, but something deeper was hesitating.
Darcy’s eyes flashed. Let’s see how you handle a little closeness, he thought to himself.
He lifted his hand suddenly, brushing lightly against the strands of Micah’s hair.
Micah froze instantly.
Darcy’s fingertips lingered, twirling a lock. It was damp.
He paused. A memory flickered in his mind. In his past life, he remembered being screwed over by Micah because this damn boy didn’t mention he had developed a fear of drowning.
"Did you go swimming?" he asked.
Micah stiffened, then nodded. "Scuba Diving."
Darcy was taken aback. No. This Micah was so different from his past life. Could someone really cure their phobia easily?
"With a mask and an oxygen tank? Isn’t that dangerous?" Darcy asked, frowning. He wanted to be sure.
"Yeah. But I had a guide. I wasn’t alone." Micah replied.
Darcy’s eyes narrowed slightly. So, this Micah was not the one from his past life. But did that mean the same thing would happen again? Would Micah still drown?
"Next time, let’s go together," he said. He wanted to see how he would act in water.
"Sure," Micah mumbled, stiff as a board.
Darcy’s fingers lingered, absently toying with his damp hair. His gaze locked on him, unblinking. The boy’s body had gone rigid, like a cornered animal.
"Are you scared of me?" Darcy asked.
Micah jerked his head, looking at him, puzzled. "Huh? Why would I be?"
"But you are frozen like a statue," Darcy said simply, his tone more observation than accusation.
Micah let out a nervous laugh, scratching his cheek. "Haha, no. Of course not, I am just a little awkward. After that... at lunch you know..." He stammered the words, eyes darting away.
Darcy stilled for a moment, and a scene flashed in his mind. Lunch. Micah stopped him, saying something that made his heart twist. He exhaled slowly. "Right. That happened. Forget about what I said." Darcy said, calm and flat.
Micah jolted, turning sharply to look at him.
"What?" Darcy blinked, face unreadable.
"Nothing. Then I’ll go take a shower." Micah mumbled and darted upstairs.
Darcy watched him disappear. His fingers flexed once, the faint scent of salt still clinging to his skin where he had touched Micah’s hair. He leaned back slightly, gaze drifting toward the staircase.
The young man was sharper now. More self-aware. In another life, Micah wouldn’t have noticed such subtle changes in him. But this one did. He had sensed the shift in his demeanour.
Darcy let out a quiet breath, a dangerous smile on his face. "Really different," he mumbled under his breath. He rested his elbows on his knees, eyes unfocused, lost in thought. He still had no idea why he had been reborn all of a sudden. But one thing was certain: he had to be more careful. One wrong slip, and Micah would suspect something was off with him.
He needed time. He still had not sorted out what he was going to do. Should he get revenge? Should he live for himself?
He had no clue.