Chapter 280: Blushing Like a Boiled Shrimp
When the stables came into view at the bottom of the hill, Micah finally spoke, his voice a bit shaky. "Wait."
The sudden word broke the quiet rhythm of hooves over grass.
Clyde pulled Onyx to a halt, glancing down instinctively at the boy sitting in front of him. Micah’s posture stiffened, his back snapping straight.
"What is it?" Clyde asked, keeping his voice even, though his fingers tightened slightly around the reins.
Micah hesitated, eyes fixed ahead. His ears had gone a deep shade of red, the flush slipping down the sides of his neck like spreading ink. "I don’t want others to see us like this..." he mumbled.
Clyde blinked. For a moment, he said nothing. His gaze dropped lower, lingering on the small freckles scattered across the nape of Micah’s neck, exposed between the damp collar of his shirt and the edge of his curls. His eyes were glued to Micah’s back, tracing every inch of it, his slender neck, the curve of his shoulder blades, the faint line of his spine.
His eyes darkened for a split second. He could feel the heat radiating from Micah’s back, pressed against his chest all this time. It had felt natural and comforting.
Clyde’s fingers clenched the reins, then slowly released them. "Alright," he said hoarsely.
He swung his leg over and dismounted quickly. Clyde gave a push to the second horse using the reins while patting Onyx’s neck. He led the two horses forward on foot without any objection.
Micah remained seated. Alone now.
The absence of Clyde’s solid frame behind him made the wind feel sharper, colder. A sudden breeze brushed over his damp clothes, and he shivered. The warmth Clyde had left behind faded quickly.
He looked down at his hands, clutching the pommel of the saddle tightly. He didn’t want to push Clyde away. Not really. But the thought of others seeing them, Emile, Dean, and Clyde’s friends like this was too much. The fragile, unspoken thing between them would never survive being exposed this soon.