CHAPTER 328: CHOCOLATE BITTERNESS

Inside the infirmary, the faint smell of antiseptic hung in the air, sharp and sterile. The nurse crouched in front of Sally, wrapping a firm bandage around her ankle. The girl winced, her fingers gripping the edge of the bed.

"It’s just a sprained ankle," the nurse said with the practical calm of someone who had repeated those words a hundred times. "Don’t put pressure on it for at least a week. Crutches if necessary, but rest is best."

Sally let out a small breath, her cheeks still faintly pink. Her eyes, glazed and dreamy, didn’t seem fully focused on the nurse.

"Thanks," Melissa said quickly, taking the explanation on Sally’s behalf. Her gaze slid to the other girl, who looked like she was floating far above reality, still wrapped in whatever spell had left her dazed. Melissa’s brows knit. Sally looked like a silly girl with her head in the clouds all for a boy.

Melissa slipped an arm under Sally’s, tugging her up gently. "Come on, let’s get you to the dormitory before you topple over again." She adjusted her grip when Sally leaned too heavily on her.

From the side, Micah’s eyes followed them. "Can you manage?"

"Yeah. Don’t worry. I’ll call Amy to help me once we’re outside."

Micah nodded, lips pressing together.

Meanwhile, from the corner of the infirmary, Darcy had been watching. His shoulder pressed to the wall as he leaned back, one arm resting away from his trunk. His dark eyes lingered too long on Micah, who was leaning close to the girls, asking questions, his face full of concern. Darcy’s jaw clenched. He couldn’t stand the sight of Micah cozying up with random girls while he hadn’t spoken a single word to him since they entered.

Did Micah not care about him anymore?

He exhaled sharply, pushing himself off the wall. "I’ll have class soon," he said to Micah. "I’ll head out first."

Micah blinked, caught off guard, then quickly turned to Melissa. "Thanks for the help. I’ll treat you later," he promised before striding after Darcy.

Melissa waved a dismissive hand without much interest, her attention returning to the girl in her arms. As the two boys disappeared, she looked down at Sally and let out an exasperated sigh. She pinched Sally’s cheek, harder than playful. "Seriously, snap out of it already."

"Aw aw!" Sally whined, clutching her cheek, her lips twisting into a pout.

"Is he that dreamy? You were out of it for ten minutes," Melissa asked, narrowing her eyes.

Sally’s blush deepened, her hands cupping her face as though she were holding in the flutter of her heart. "Yeah," she whispered with a sigh. "I have never seen a guy like him before."

Melissa rolled her eyes so hard they nearly stuck. "I don’t know what you see in him," she grumbled under her breath. Darcy again, obviously. Always Darcy. In her opinion, there was no comparison. Micah was miles better, kinder. But Sally was blind to it, always gushing about that cold guy.

"Please," she said, her patience running thin, "spare me the gushing. Let’s go. I’ve got class this afternoon, and I’m not wasting it listening to you moon about him again." She shifted Sally’s arm more securely over her shoulder and half-guided, half-dragged her toward the door. Melissa’s irritation spiked.

Sally’s voice kept bubbling beside her, light and creamy, but Melissa tuned it down, blocking her off with practiced indifference. She didn’t notice the name that kept slipping from Sally’s lips, Micah, not Darcy.

*****

Outside the infirmary, Darcy’s mood only darkened. He walked fast, wanting distance...from Micah, from the girls, from the uneasy knot in his chest. Yet, a small part of him yearned for Micah to follow him, to ask what was wrong...

Then nothing. There was no sign of Micah.

Darcy’s expression turned stormy as he reached his faculty, disheartened by the lack of Micah’s attention. He was near his building when a voice called his name.

"Darcy!"

Micah jogged to catch up, breathless. "Hey. Wait for me!"

Darcy’s stride slowed. Turning around, he spotted Micah running toward him, flushed and sweaty. "What’s wrong?" he asked.

Micah stopped in front of him, leaning forward to catch his breath.

Then he reached out, his fingers brushing and then grasping the fabric of Darcy’s sleeve. The fabric was damp beneath his hand. Cold and sticky. His eyes scanned the sleeve and then narrowed in concern. The dark fabric hid it well, but it was clearly soaked. He had noticed something was wrong with the way Darcy held his arm separate from his body. Now, he realised he had guessed it right.

Without hesitation, Micah swung his bag forward, rummaging quickly. "Here," he said, pulling out a neatly folded jacket and holding it out. "Change to this before you go."

Darcy was taken aback. His eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, he froze. He thought Micah hadn’t noticed. He thought Micah’s eyes were elsewhere, on those girls, and not on him. Yet here Micah was, holding something out for him, concern shadowing his features.

Darcy stayed motionless too long, so Micah tilted his head and pressed the jacket closer to him. "Didn’t you say you’ll be late? Don’t just stand there. I hurried to get this for you from my room."

Finally, Darcy reached out and took it, fingers brushing against Micah’s. His grip tightened hesitantly. "Thanks," he said quietly, almost grudgingly, and began to take off his outer shirt. The fabric clung to his arm, reluctant to let go, but he shook it free and slipped into Micah’s jacket over his t-shirt.

The jacket hung on him just right, fitting snugly but not tightly. Micah’s gaze flicked over him once, then he nodded, lips curving faintly. "Good. It fits. Oh. Right. When the class finishes, text me to eat lunch together."

Darcy nodded, then he tugged the zipper halfway up, his hands twisting at the hem like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. The scent of Micah clung to the fabric, mint, cool but warm, spicy but oddly refreshing. He swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat, chest tightening as he inhaled it deeper than he should have.

Micah watched him, worry softening his features. "Sorry, I meddled. I just...saw a lot of people staring. And I didn’t want it to turn into something bigger."

Darcy shook his head quickly. "No. I was in a bad mood. I handled the situation poorly." His voice was steadier than when he left.

Micah tilted his head, studying him. "Right... You’ve been working weekends, haven’t you?" Micah said. "Did you have breakfast?" His hand went back into his bag, rustling until he pulled something out. He extended a small, wrapped bar toward Darcy. "Here, at least eat this."

Darcy stared at it, baffled. A chocolate bar, pressed into his hand like it was the most natural thing. Why was Micah always like this? Sweet. Effortless. Too much. It seeped through him and dissolved the bitterness clinging to his mood.

He unwrapped it slowly, the crinkle of foil sharp in the quiet hall. He bit into it, the taste spreading across his tongue, bitter but fragrant, a flavour that lingered longer than expected. He chewed slowly, his mind swirling, dizzy with the thought of Micah’s influence. Even something as simple as chocolate tasted like poetry when tied to him.

Micah checked his watch, lips pressing together again. "Go on. You’re late," he said, his palm resting briefly against Darcy’s shoulder before he gave him a gentle push toward the engineering faculty.

Darcy stumbled a step, then straightened, still dazed. He walked away, eyes unfocused, head filled with nothing but Micah’s voice, scent, and care.