MILO
this is for the snakes and the people they bite
for the friends i've made, for the sleepless nights
for the friends i've made, for the sleepless nights
“Mm yeah, we’ll see.” He replies, flashing her a half smile as she goes on her parade of the Voice stealing her away. “Sorry ya got stuck with the lot of us.” He offers, toasting to her with an empty flask as he remains laying in the sand, halfway, attention dipping between her and the lantern she’d spoken of. Her voice gets softer, her expression softer, and Milo feels like he’s won something at the end of it.
But he focuses on her, sets the flask down into the sand and wipes the sand from his hands before running his fingers through his hair once again, pulling the loose pieces out of his face so that he might better see the lantern. But he can’t, not from this distance, so he shuffles a bit to move to stand – a bit wobbly, a bit drunk, sinking down into the sand beside her and the lantern so he might pick it up to peer at it.
“Smiths, mm?” He rumbles, cocking his head this way and that. “Looks like’a fire t’me.” He offers, gaze lifting up to peer at her, closer now than he had been before. “So lemme guess, ya think it’s mockin’ ya? Sorry t’hear ‘bout yer dad.” It’s jumbled and a bit all over the place, but he sets the lantern down and looks back to the dying fire. “Don’t… Don’t smiths use’a lotta fire? D’ya think that’s it?” Not much more than that to read into?
Granted, Milo can’t say. He hardly knows the woman.
But he focuses on her, sets the flask down into the sand and wipes the sand from his hands before running his fingers through his hair once again, pulling the loose pieces out of his face so that he might better see the lantern. But he can’t, not from this distance, so he shuffles a bit to move to stand – a bit wobbly, a bit drunk, sinking down into the sand beside her and the lantern so he might pick it up to peer at it.
“Smiths, mm?” He rumbles, cocking his head this way and that. “Looks like’a fire t’me.” He offers, gaze lifting up to peer at her, closer now than he had been before. “So lemme guess, ya think it’s mockin’ ya? Sorry t’hear ‘bout yer dad.” It’s jumbled and a bit all over the place, but he sets the lantern down and looks back to the dying fire. “Don’t… Don’t smiths use’a lotta fire? D’ya think that’s it?” Not much more than that to read into?
Granted, Milo can’t say. He hardly knows the woman.
for the warning signs i've completely ignored
there's an amount to take, reasons to take more
there's an amount to take, reasons to take more
