CHAPTER 250: TANGLED DRAGONS

Micah splashed cold water onto his face, his hands trembling slightly as he leaned over the marble sink. Droplets slid down his cheeks, mixing with the remnants of tears he hadn’t fully wiped away. His reflection stared back at him from the mirror, pale, eyes slightly red and glossy, lips pressed in a tight line. He took a shaky breath and turned off the tap, reaching for a towel.

He patted his face dry, careful not to rub his eyes too hard. The moment with his grandmother had broken something inside him and rebuilt something else. He grabbed his glasses and put them on.

As he stepped out of the building, he spotted Darcy near the archway, standing just beneath the warm lamplight. The younger boy was frowning slightly at his phone, scrolling through something with his thumb. The moment he heard footsteps, Darcy looked up. And the second his eyes landed on Micah, his entire expression changed.

He strode forward in a heartbeat, concern etched into every line of his face. He could see Micah’s red nose, droopy lips, and puffed eyes.

"Micah," he said, his voice soft but urgent. He reached out, almost instinctively, his fingertips brushing lightly against the corner of Micah’s eyes. "What happened?? Why did you cry? Did she scold you? Was it something I did?"

Micah blinked, stunned by the way Darcy’s fingers lingered there, gentle and tentative. He flinched slightly and pushed Darcy’s hand away. Not harshly, just enough to break the contact. He dropped his gaze, and his shoulder sagged. "No... she’s always been sick... and now the doctors are saying she..." His voice cracked, hoarse and barely audible. He let the sentence trail off, let the lie hang in the air between them.

He had prepared those words before stepping out. He had known Darcy would see through him the moment he appeared. This was the most plausible excuse. Safe, untouchable.

Darcy’s expression fell. "I’m sorry..." he said tenderly.

Micah shook his head stiffly. "Let’s get out of here," he said, avoiding Darcy’s eyes.

"Umm," Darcy nodded and followed.

Micah led him quietly through the side pathway, away from the noise of the banquet halls. They slipped out the back entrance. Micah didn’t say much as they walked toward the garage. They reached a black car, and Micah slid into the driver’s seat. Darcy settled in beside him, watching him from the corner of his eye.

They drove for a few minutes through the dimly lit roads. Micah suddenly pulled into a supermarket parking lot and parked near the entrance. "Wait, I’ll be back," he said.

Darcy watched him jog toward the store, the stylish suit shimmered under the light, catching the eyes of passersby.

A few minutes later, Micah emerged with a box tucked under one arm and a bag in the other. When he returned to the car, he stopped them in the backseat without much ceremony and started driving again.

It wasn’t until they went up a hill road that Darcy realised where they were going.

Micah parked at the small gravel lot near the peak. The night had deepened, and the moon hung high and bright in the sky, casting silver light across the stone and the grass. From up here, the city looked like a scattered galaxy, each light blinking like a distant star.

Micah got out and stretched his arms above his head, exhaling deeply like he was finally releasing something. He reached into the backseat, pulled out the box of beers, and cracked one open with a soft hiss. He handed the can to Darcy.

Darcy looked at it, pressed his lips together, and hesitated. Drinking beer... it wasn’t good for Micah, but in the end, he didn’t object to it.

They sat down on a bench. Their cans clicked with a dull thud.

"Happy birthday to me and you," Micah said, his voice soft, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.

"Umm," Darcy hummed.

Micah took a long sip from his can. He looked out at the cityscape below, the calm finally settling in his chest.

He felt a serenity he hadn’t felt for a long time. Being up here, away from everything, with his plans set in motion, Micah’s worries lessened. And the way he had confided in Zhou Ruyan, he felt light. For the first time in days, he didn’t feel he was suffocating.

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the velvet box. He hesitated a moment, then turned to Darcy and handed it over. "Here," he said. "I hope you like it."

Darcy’s gaze landed on the box. His fingers closed around it, but he didn’t open it immediately. Instead, he drew in a breath. He knew it was now or never, before seeing Micah’s gift, before losing his nerves. He reached into his own pocket and pulled out a small pouch.

Micah blinked in surprise as Darcy handed it to him. "What’s this? I thought the cake was my gift?" he asked, smiling as he untied the pouch and peeked inside.

The moment he pulled out the key chains in the shape of tiny figurines, chibi-styled Akali and Nami, followed by two adorable black and white cat figurines, his eyes lit up. "Shit! What’s with this cuteness?" he laughed, holding the tiny figures in his palm.

Darcy felt the knot in his heart loosen finally.

"Do you like it?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Like it? These are right up my alley!" Micah grinned, rubbing the Akali and Nami between his fingers. Then the two white and black cats. "Thanks," he added and flashed a genuine smile at Darcy.

Darcy gulped and looked away, flustered. His ears turned red.

"Now, it’s your turn. Open it." Micah watched him with a gentle gleam in his eyes, urging.

Darcy slowly lifted the lid of the velvet box. Inside, the pendant gleamed under the moonlight. Two dragons. One white and one black. Tangled tightly around each other, forming a delicate, balanced circle.