MILO
island smiles and cardigans
these nights that we've been drinking in
these nights that we've been drinking in
The mention of the Climb being shitty and her response to it has Milo quirking his head a fraction, gaze skating over her curiously but putting a pause in it for the mention of witches, though, because truthfully that’s far more interesting. A red brow raises as he barks a laugh when she tells him she’s on her good side. “Y’sure about that?” He retorts, humming a laugh at the wink she shoots him.
The tree is soon above them and he’s adjusting to help hoist her up toward it. Her hiss of pain instantly has him a bit concerned, but he’s sure that she’ll tell him if something is wrong. For now, though, she has gotten ahold of the tree, and he stands down there peering up at her through the branches to listen to her explanation. “Me? ‘Fraid of heights?” He waggles his brows at her with a crooked grin. “Nah.”
She helps him up into the tree and he hops up after her with ease, making his way through the branches, following the ones she’s made sure were fine to stand on that wouldn’t falter beneath their feet. “Mm, yeah, I got th’spyglass.” He mutters, wrapping an arm around a branch to reach down around his waist, where the belt he wears has an extra leather loop, one that holds the glimmering silver spyglass.
But then his curiosity gets the best of him as he climbs up to meet her, nudging her with an elbow and with a serious look in his bronze gaze. “Y’doin’ alright, ‘Relia?” He asks, head angling toward her bad arm.
The tree is soon above them and he’s adjusting to help hoist her up toward it. Her hiss of pain instantly has him a bit concerned, but he’s sure that she’ll tell him if something is wrong. For now, though, she has gotten ahold of the tree, and he stands down there peering up at her through the branches to listen to her explanation. “Me? ‘Fraid of heights?” He waggles his brows at her with a crooked grin. “Nah.”
She helps him up into the tree and he hops up after her with ease, making his way through the branches, following the ones she’s made sure were fine to stand on that wouldn’t falter beneath their feet. “Mm, yeah, I got th’spyglass.” He mutters, wrapping an arm around a branch to reach down around his waist, where the belt he wears has an extra leather loop, one that holds the glimmering silver spyglass.
But then his curiosity gets the best of him as he climbs up to meet her, nudging her with an elbow and with a serious look in his bronze gaze. “Y’doin’ alright, ‘Relia?” He asks, head angling toward her bad arm.
we're here to help you kill all of this hurt
that you've been harboring
that you've been harboring
