The air in the kitchen felt charged, heavy, almost humming with something that neither of them wanted to name. Micah was leaning against the counter, his palm pressed flat against the cold marble edge. His breath came a little unevenly. Clyde stood close, his hand resting lightly at the back of Micah's neck. His head was lowered, close enough for Micah to feel his breath on his cheek.
"Were you that jealous?" Clyde whispered, voice rough with something darkly amused.
Micah's brows knitted. "Me?" he scoffed, his tone filling with defiance. "Who was it who tried to separate her from me? Hm? Sending me and my classmates away?" His voice rose slightly, but he caught himself, glancing toward the hallway where Darcy's room was. He didn't want to wake him. The anger stayed, but quieter. "You were the jealous one."
Clyde lowered his face even more, inching away from Micah's lips. "Mmm…" he murmured. "I was so jealous I wanted to claim you right in front of her."
