From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL)-Chapter 662: Since When Is It ‘We’?

Clyde’s IV line had already been removed, and the faint indentation from the tape still marked the pale skin on the back of his hand. He flexed his fingers slowly then adjusted the mask on his face. Aside from a lingering exhaustion that made his eyelids droop every now and then and a dry cough that came in quiet, suppressed bursts, his cold no longer showed much. His breathing was steady and his fever was gone. He stood in the hospital lobby, waiting for Micah.

The Ramsy family, no matter how unwilling, could not remain stationed at the hospital every hour of the day. Responsibilities waited outside those sterile white walls, and even devotion had to give way to reality. After a long discussion filled with low voices and worried glances toward Zhou Ruyan’s room, they worked out a careful rotation. Each person would take turns staying so that she would never wake to an empty room, never feel abandoned even for a moment. It was a system born from love and guilt.

Elina was the one who finally shooed Micah out first. She held a coffee cup in one hand, the other planted on her hip as she blocked the hospital entrance like a general refusing retreating soldiers. Her expression was firm, but the dark circles under her eyes betrayed how little she had slept. "Sweetheart," she said, her tone clipped but not unkind, "your ankle is injured, and he is sick. Instead of helping, the two of you will only become extra trouble here." 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

Micah’s lips immediately pushed forward into a dramatic pout, his brows knitting together as though deeply wounded by her words. He shifted his weight off his bad ankle, wincing slightly but still managing to sound aggravated. "Mum, did you really have to phrase it like that?"

"What?" Elina threw her free hand into the air, fingers splayed. "I am being caring. Now go. My head already hurts from all the chaos you stirred up today."

Micah blinked, genuinely baffled. His hand lifted to point at his own chest. "What chaos? Compared to how I used to be, I was practically a saint today!"

"Mm-hmm, yes, I noticed," Elina replied dryly, nodding with exaggerated agreement. "You didn’t bicker with Vivian. You didn’t prank your cousins. You behaved like an angel descended from heaven. Very impressive." She leaned closer, lowering her voice. "But the issue was not you. It was the giant neon sign standing beside you. The two of you walked around like newlyweds on their honeymoon. Do you know how much teasing and questioning I endured today? It was worse than when the baby switch incident came to light."

Darcy, who had been standing a step behind them with his hands tucked awkwardly into his jacket pockets, shifted his weight and cleared his throat. "Sorry I wasn’t interesting enough to attract attention," he said, his tone mild but edged with self-conscious humour, clearly having overheard.

Elina pressed her fingers to her temple and tipped her head back. "Heavens, grant me patience," she muttered, inhaling deeply once, then again, as if trying to breathe out her frustration. She lowered her hand and looked at Darcy, her expression softening. "Dear, I wasn’t talking about you. My point was that this brat," she jerked her chin toward Micah, "marched his date right into the middle of the family like this!"

She turned fully to Micah then, and though her lips curved into a sweet, almost sugary smile, her eyes flashed with warning. "If there weren’t people watching, I would twist your ear so hard you’d think twice before pulling something like that again."

Micah froze as if someone had pressed a pause button on him. He took a cautious step back, shoulders lifting instinctively. His mother rarely lost her temper, which made moments like this far more terrifying. "I love you too, Mum," he said quickly, his voice turning soft and obedient. He rubbed his ankle for effect. "Actually, my ankle’s starting to hurt again. I should go." He began walking backward, every step careful, before turning and limping toward Clyde like he’d just spotted his escape route.

Darcy watched him retreat, then glanced back at Elina, who was still staring after Micah with a mixture of irritation and reluctant fondness. "I’ll go check on my mum and my sister," Darcy said gently. "After that, I’ll look after Micah. You don’t need to worry about him."

Elina’s gaze shifted to him, and for a moment the sharpness melted, revealing something vulnerable beneath. She met his dark eyes. "He’s decent, right?" she asked quietly.

Darcy held her eyes without flinching. His lips curved into a faint, self-deprecating smile. "It hurts my pride to admit it," he said, voice steady, "but so far he’s been so upright that I can’t find a single flaw. His dedication to Micah isn’t an act."

Elina’s shoulders visibly loosened, the tension draining from her posture like air from a balloon. She let out a long breath. "The way his nephew described him earlier, for a moment I really thought he might be... obsessive."

Darcy’s gaze slipped away briefly, his lashes lowering as a flicker of thought crossed his mind. Obsessive was not entirely inaccurate. If past lives counted, Clyde had chased after Micah through more than one existence with single-minded determination. But that was not a truth he could share.

"Don’t take Emile’s rambling seriously," Darcy said instead, shaking his head. "He’s the definition of a black lotus person. Looks harmless and sweet, but inside he’s no different from Micah, loves stirring trouble. Half of what he said was meant to make you misunderstand."

Elina nodded slowly. "You spend more time with him than I do, so I’ll trust your judgment." She reached out and squeezed Darcy’s arm briefly. "Take care of your mother and Micah. And if you’re tired, don’t force yourself to come back to the hospital. Just call me."

"Alright," Darcy replied, his voice softening. "You don’t need to be so careful around me..."

"Darcy! Let’s go!" Micah’s voice rang out from the distance. He waved one arm high in the air, nearly losing his balance in the process. "We’ll drop you off before heading home!"

Elina’s expression collapsed as though struck by invisible lightning. Her hand curled into a fist at her side. "This brat..." she hissed under her breath. "Since when is it ’we’? And whose home? Listen to him, already talking like they’re married! Show some restraint! With how foolish he is, he’ll be the one getting bullied in the end!"

Darcy bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. From what he’d seen, Clyde was the one being dragged around while Micah pulled him this way and that without mercy. If anything, Clyde was the one being led around. Darcy almost wanted to tell Elina she had nothing to fear. That man would rather shatter himself than let harm come to Micah.

Micah truly had him wrapped around his little finger.

"Take it easy," Darcy said at last, his tone carefully neutral. "He’s just carried away right now." He dipped his head slightly. "I’ll go."

With that, he turned and walked briskly toward Micah, his long strides closing the distance quickly.

When he reached him, he grabbed Micah’s arm firmly, fingers pressing just enough to get his attention. Leaning close, he muttered through clenched teeth, "Start moving before your mum snaps."

Micah straightened at once, like a student caught whispering in class. He cleared his throat, tried to look dignified, and began walking toward the exit with exaggerated calm. Behind them, Clyde followed at an unhurried pace, watching Micah’s back in silence.