Micah shifted in his seat beside Darcy and reached for another bite of food, his appetite returning now that the most nerve-wracking part of the evening was over. The lingering warmth from the alcohol still flushed faintly across his cheeks, and there was a relaxed looseness in his posture that had not been there earlier. For the first time that night, he allowed himself to simply sit, breathe, and enjoy the moment without constantly anticipating what might go wrong.
He had just lifted his fork again when a familiar voice called out from behind him.
"Young master Micah." The tone was polite, slightly bright, and carried a hint of youthful warmth that made it immediately recognisable.
Micah paused mid-motion and turned around, his expression shifting almost instantly. The moment his eyes landed on the speaker, his face lit up, the earlier tension replaced by genuine delight.
"Xiao Ming!" he exclaimed, his voice rising with clear excitement.
