CHAPTER 317: WHAT ARE WE?

Micah practically bolted out of the Du Pont mansion, his movements jerky and impatient, as though he had escaped a great disaster. He pushed open the heavy door and exhaled sharply into the cool air outside. His steps quickened down the front steps, nearly tripping on the last one in his eagerness to reach the car.

Clyde followed at a measured pace, his brow twitching at the boy’s dramatics. He had been too optimistic, too hopeful that Micah might confess to Jacklin and others, admit plainly that he was Asena. He had thought the little talks he gave, the hints he dropped, and the subtle nudge would prepare Micah enough to step forward. But clearly, the boy was still too embarrassed, too unwilling to bare himself before others.

Clyde didn’t want Micah to hide it anymore. But in the end, the decision was in Micah’s hands. He could see he was not ready to come clean. So he had excused themselves from the mansion.

Micah yanked open the car door and slid into the passenger seat, his arms folded defensively. He turned to the driver’s side and frowned impatiently. "Why are you walking so slowly?"

Clyde arched a brow as he pulled the door open. "Are you really that eager to see Uncle Lin?" he asked as he settled in, fastening his seatbelt with a click. "Or is it just that you can’t stand staying here any longer?"

"Both," Micah said bluntly, his lips tugging down in a scowl.

Clyde turned the key but didn’t start the engine yet, glancing at him sidelong. "You weren’t this awkward when my friends found out about us. Why is this different?"

The question hit a nerve. Micah stiffened, his ears going pink almost instantly. "Stop! Don’t bring that up," he said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. "That was different! They don’t know about... the Asena thing. But Jacklin and the others..." he broke off, groaning.

He couldn’t bring himself to repeat the words Jacklin had said to him before. Madam of the Du Pont family... ahhh...

The memory alone made his skin prickle and his ears burn.

He and Clyde hadn’t known each other for that long. They hadn’t had some dramatic confession of love or neatly defined "we’re together now" moment. What they had was messy, raw, and half spoken. A push and pull of glances, touches, and words that meant more than they dared admit.

And yet Jacklin had said it so plainly, so confidently, as though the future had already been sealed, as though Micah was expected to step into a role that terrified him. Marriage? Family? Labels? Not now. Not yet.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be with Clyde. He did, too much, in fact. But marriage was not something he could even consider, not when Darcy’s future was still up in the air, not when those four scums were still out there waiting for him to deal with them. Those were his priorities. Those were what he owed.

And besides, going public with Clyde was not just about the two of them. It would ripple through Isatis city like a bomb, exploding into every household, every whispering circle. Attracting too much attention and trouble to himself and Clyde. And when people found out he was just a fake young master... that would blow out of proportion for sure.

Micah clenched his fists in his lap. What he wanted, what he needed, was time. Quiet, private time with Clyde, free from everyone else’s meddling. No families, no expectations, no eyes watching them. Only them.

"Is it really that hard to tell them you are Asena?" Clyde asked finally, his tone calm, not pushing, but with an edge of quiet insistence.

"Yeah. It is. And besides... I still need to use that name. I want to deal with Leo with that cover intact. If Jacklin knows, she might accidentally blow it. I can’t risk that."

Clyde’s gaze softened slightly. "She is trustworthy, you know."

"It’s not about that," Micah muttered, rubbing his temple. "It’d be just awkward. If she met me again as Asena, she’d surely feel uncomfortable. And I don’t want her looking at me differently. It’s better if she thinks Asena’s... someone else entirely. I could manage some hate."

Clyde hummed, thoughtful. "Fine. I’ll talk to them."

Micah’s head snapped toward him. Suspicion sharpened his eyes. "What do you want to tell them? That absurd nonsense that Asena wasn’t interested in you? Who would buy that?"

Clyde’s lips twitched in faint amusement. "That Asena prefers the same sex."

Micah’s face turned scarlet like a pig. "You!" he snapped, lunging sideways. He grabbed Clyde’s cheeks with both hands and pinched hard, as if punishing him into silence.

Clyde chuckled, low and warm. His hands instinctively went to Micah’s waist to steady him in place. His voice came out muffled through squished cheeks. "Careful. The windows are not tinted. Someone could see us..."

Micah froze mid-motion. His eyes widened, and he jumped back into his seat so fast the car rocked slightly. His hands flew to his lap, and he hunched down, mortified. His gaze darted toward the mansion, scanning the windows for a sign of witnesses. "Drive!" he hissed, his voice tight with embarrassment.

Still chuckling, Clyde adjusted his shirt where Micah had wrinkled it, then turned the key and started the engine.

Micah huffed, crossing his arms across his chest, glaring out the window. His foot tapped impatiently against the floor. "Seriously, how exactly do you plan on convincing them?"

Clyde’s eyes stayed on the road, but a faint smirk curved his mouth. "You could always appear as Asena and tell them yourself. Say you are not interested in me. That would end it."

"No way! If I do that, when the truth comes out, they skin me alive for lying." Micah refused.

"So what?" Clyde asked simply, his tone infuriatingly calm.

"So what?" Micah snapped. "You are the one who started this mess. You deal with it."

Clyde gave a quiet laugh, low and almost indulgent. "Alright. Then I’ll just tell them Asena is my girlfriend."

Micah’s eyes widened. "Have you lost your mind? If you do that, then what am I supposed to be?!"

Clyde glanced at him briefly, his gaze steady, almost challenging, before returning to the road. "So.. Really...what exactly does that make you?" he asked softly.

The question cut sharper than any tease. Micah became tongue-tied. This damn bastard! He wanted to force him to say it. Like hell!

Micah gritted his teeth. "Fine," he muttered after a long pause, forcing the words out through clenched jaws. "Say Asena is your girlfriend. Do whatever you want." He turned his face toward the window, annoyed.

Clyde’s smirk faded and he pressed his lips together. A flicker of something unsettled crossed his face.

He didn’t understand it, Micah’s stubborn insistence on hiding, on twisting himself into knots rather than admitting what they were. He had promised himself he wouldn’t push, wouldn’t force the boy to define them before he was ready. And yet here he was, letting frustration drive his words.

He felt the shame of it even as the thought lingered. He wanted to respect Micah’s pace, let him decide when and how they became something solid. But the secrecy, the constant running... it gnawed at him.

Clyde tightened his grip on the wheel, eyes narrowing at the road ahead.