Chapter 445: Hair-Twirling and Other Red Flags
Micah’s eyes wandered to the water again. The sea stretched endlessly, its surface rippling with playful gleams. Maybe a swim would clear his mind and burn off some of this restless energy. Yes. He could exhaust himself and push all these stray thoughts out of his system.
He straightened and quickly walked toward the diving section where tourists rented gear. After signing up, he changed quickly, slipping into a wetsuit that clung snugly to his body. Then he followed the guide to the small boat bobbing near the dock. The man greeted him warmly, helped him with the mask and oxygen tank, and gave him a quick run-down of signals before they slipped into the water.
Micah’s body adjusted to the pressure as he descended. Colour bloomed everywhere: schools of fish darting around like flickering sparks, soft corals swayed with the current like dancers, a sea turtle drifted slowly, and a cluster of tiny clown fish peeked nervously from anemones.
Micah’s eyes widened behind the mask. Every motion felt like drifting through a dream. He thought he should have brought Clyde and Darcy here, too.
Minutes blurred into more minutes, but Micah didn’t feel the time pass. His body moved easily, as though made for this world. The guide eventually tapped his shoulder, motioning for them to ascend. Micah obeyed reluctantly, lungs still steady.
Breaking through the surface, he pulled off his mask and drew a lungful of fresh air, climbing onto the boat easily. The guide climbed up after him, shaking his wet hair with a laugh.
"Hey, handsome brother, your stamina is impressive. I rarely see a tourist last this long underwater," the young man said.
Micah offered him a smug grin. "I was a champion swimmer back in school. This is nothing."
"Oh?" The young man’s eyes lit up with curiosity. "Then why didn’t you keep pursuing it? You have the build for it."
Micah leaned back in his palms. "If I had, I would have ended up stuck in long training camps, far away from my family. I couldn’t stand the boredom."
"Yeah. Persistence is the key in professional sports."
Micah nodded. "Exactly. I’ve never been good at sticking to one thing for too long."
His gaze turned distant. Ironically, he had always been good at sports, but the problem was that he lacked discipline. He always lost focus too quickly, growing restless no matter how good he was. The only thing that had ever managed to capture his attention was sketching and designing clothes. That was the only thing he didn’t tire of.
The boat rocked gently as Micah chatted with the guide, asking about the opening hours and which place was most exciting to visit. When they finally returned to shore, he changed out of his wetsuit and returned to the villa. By the time he reached it, his limbs felt heavy, pleasantly worn out.
He was halfway up the path when his phone rang.
"Hey, what’s up?" he said, forcing his tone casual as he saw Clyde’s name on the screen.
"Micah." Clyde’s voice came through, low with a hidden edge to it. "Something’s come up. I have to head back to Isatis city tonight. Do you want to come along?"
Micah hesitated, tempted to go. The thought of facing Darcy after their strained conversation at lunch made his stomach twist. Escaping now would be easy. But he knew he couldn’t do that. Darcy had come all the way here for him. If he left now, if he abandoned him like this, what would that say?
"Nah. I’m good. I’ll head home tomorrow anyway."
"Alright," Clyde replied after a pause. "Then I’ll see you there."
The line clicked dead.
Micah looked at the black screen. Something in Clyde’s voice... seemed off.
But he had lost his chance to ask. He sighed and pushed open the villa door.
Darcy sat in the living room, posture straight, hands folded loosely on his lap. The air around him seemed a bit different.
"Hey," Micah called out, forcing his voice casual.
Darcy raised his head. For a second, the intensity in his eyes made Micah shiver, sending an invisible chill crawling down his spine. He blinked rapidly, and when he looked again, Darcy’s gaze seemed normal. He thought it had only been his imagination.
He stepped forward and plopped down on the couch beside him with a soft thud.
"I decided to go back tomorrow. I already told my mum to come pick us up," he said casually, trying to act as if the earlier clash at lunch had never happened.
Silence. No reaction. He turned his head. "Mm? Why aren’t you saying anything?"
Darcy lifted his gaze. "Good," he said simply, voice flat, stripped of emotion.
Micah studied his face. Darcy’s expression was eerily blank. "Hey, are you..." He trailed off, hesitating, then decided not to mention it. "Did you tell your mum and Nora?" he asked instead.
"About what?"
"That you are here. Or about my..." Micah said. "About me?"
"Mm," Darcy hummed. His throat bobbed up and down. "They know."
Micah fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. His heart felt oddly restless.
Then Darcy’s hand lifted suddenly, brushing lightly against the damp strands of Micah’s hair. His fingertips lingered, twirling a lock. "Did you go swimming?"
Micah stiffened then nodded. "Scuba Diving."
"With a mask and an oxygen tank? Isn’t that dangerous?" Darcy asked, frowning.
"Yeah. But I had a guide. I wasn’t alone."
Darcy’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Next time, let’s go together."
"Sure," Micah mumbled, stiff as a board. His words got stuck in his throat. He didn’t mention that he had already made an appointment with that guide for tomorrow morning.
Darcy’s hand lingered in his hair, absently toying with his damp hair. His gaze locked on him, unblinking.
"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."
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.
"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. His pulse hammered in his chest. Something felt wrong.
He couldn’t put his finger on it, but the unease crawled through his mind.