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
His hand drops the moment she freezes up, uncertainty glimpsing momentarily in his gaze. Perhaps due to the alcohol and a small fraction of loneliness, the smuggler had misread the night, the way she looked at him, the way they remained in the sand so close to one another, close enough to touch. And so he moves, hand dropping into the sand, shifting himself so he might give her some semblance of space when she puts a hand on his shoulder, and his gaze drifts back to her — that same confusion hidden beneath the earthy tones of his eyes.
She leans toward him and Milo peers back at her, watching her gaze drift along his face, the warmth of their shared breaths crossing the span between them. And he meets her gaze, this close, able to see the way the light reflected in her pale emerald gaze. ’You don’t know me.’ She tells him in a tone that almost has goosebumps rising along his skin. But he doesn’t move, he simply absorbs, feels the warmth of her hand against his shoulder as he figures out what to say back.
“Yeah. I don’t.” He begins, letting his eyes dance around her face. “I could, tho.” It’s a lower rumble, one that vibrates through him as he shifts himself a bit so he can sit more fully facing her, knee to knee, leaned forward still to meet her almost half way. “If ya wanted t‘tell me, that is. If ya don’t that’s fine too.” He offers her, an out should she wish it. But he lingers near, fingertips aiming to brush by her elbow from the hand that rests on his shoulder.
She leans toward him and Milo peers back at her, watching her gaze drift along his face, the warmth of their shared breaths crossing the span between them. And he meets her gaze, this close, able to see the way the light reflected in her pale emerald gaze. ’You don’t know me.’ She tells him in a tone that almost has goosebumps rising along his skin. But he doesn’t move, he simply absorbs, feels the warmth of her hand against his shoulder as he figures out what to say back.
“Yeah. I don’t.” He begins, letting his eyes dance around her face. “I could, tho.” It’s a lower rumble, one that vibrates through him as he shifts himself a bit so he can sit more fully facing her, knee to knee, leaned forward still to meet her almost half way. “If ya wanted t‘tell me, that is. If ya don’t that’s fine too.” He offers her, an out should she wish it. But he lingers near, fingertips aiming to brush by her elbow from the hand that rests on his shoulder.
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
