Inside the bedroom, tension simmered between them. Slowly, cautiously, Clyde raised his own hand and rested it over Micah's wrist, pulling it away from his mouth. "Curse?" His brows knitted together as he searched Micah's trembling eyes. "You think I am cursed because I've lived countless times?"
Micah stiffened. Countless lives. Right. Transmigrators lived not just once but maybe hundreds lives. Hopping from this world to another…Micah shook his head hard. "No…it's not that." His voice trembled, and he swallowed, gripping the edge of Clyde's shirt. "I am afraid. Afraid I am not your first love… or worse…" His throat tightened painfully. "You never loved me at all. And I've been… deluding myself like an idiot."
Clyde's mind went blank. "Huh?" He tilted his head, genuinely confused. "You are not making any sense. What's going on with you?"
