Micah reached the top of the stairs, walking down the quiet hallway toward his room. His hand had just brushed the doorknob when the sound of another door opening drew his attention. He stopped, glancing sideways.
The room right beside his was Darcy's room. Darcy stepped out, tall and composed, his dark eyes immediately locking onto him. "Hey," he said in a low voice. "Did you eat out?"
Micah paused and turned his head. "No. I've been eating at home," he mumbled.
The truth was that for the past two weeks, he had no appetite and no will to go out and eat alone.
Darcy's shoulders relaxed as if relieved. "Good. I made some fish soup for you. It's good for your health. I'll go and add shrimp to it. Come down and eat." He turned as though the matter was settled, already starting toward the stairs.
"Wait!" The words slipped out before Micah could stop them. He reached forward, fingers curling into the fabric of Darcy's shirt, halting him. "I… we…"
