MILO
the hope and the hurt has lived inside of me
but there's gold in the dirt
but there's gold in the dirt
She’s crying and he wants to do something to help but he’s also suddenly afraid, worried she might lash out at him despite the words she says that are aimed to soothe. It’s like a shot through the heart, aimed so perfectly with a ‘just like you’ that it feels like it’s ripped it out completely. She tries to offer her own apologies, that things were different, and gods how he wants to understand. He wants to understand why genocide on a group of people was a good idea.
But he can’t. He might never be able to understand.
And perhaps that’s the hardest part, as he asks his question and her shimmering gaze finds his, surprised himself to find his own eyes glistening and a hard set to his jaw. He hears her out, because he wants to understand so badly--
And she continues.
“I want to.” It’s nearly a whisper, said so quietly that his accent muffles the majority of it, his gaze dropping from her so he can turn away, suck in a cool breath as she moves closer to him. She gives him an out, now, how he could ask her to leave while he processes it. He doesn’t know if he wants that. He doesn’t know what he wants.
His heart hurts, his head sways, and gifts are strewn about the room of what Milo had the naïve thought was love when it seemed he hardly knew anything about her. What was it Zeph said? Don’t fall in love? Don’t get attached? Perhaps he should have listened.
But no, no, no – she feels the same. He knows it, deep down somewhere among the murky waters within him. “Don’t go.” His head tilts toward her then, the hand extended toward her to maybe grasp her own, but he doesn’t make the move to. He lets her decide. “Jus… I wanna know. Ev’’rythin’. No more secrets. ‘n try t’help me understand.” This is quieter, sadder, a hollow sensation reverberating through the tones of his voice.
The offer is there. To understand. To start over.
But he can’t. He might never be able to understand.
And perhaps that’s the hardest part, as he asks his question and her shimmering gaze finds his, surprised himself to find his own eyes glistening and a hard set to his jaw. He hears her out, because he wants to understand so badly--
And she continues.
“I want to.” It’s nearly a whisper, said so quietly that his accent muffles the majority of it, his gaze dropping from her so he can turn away, suck in a cool breath as she moves closer to him. She gives him an out, now, how he could ask her to leave while he processes it. He doesn’t know if he wants that. He doesn’t know what he wants.
His heart hurts, his head sways, and gifts are strewn about the room of what Milo had the naïve thought was love when it seemed he hardly knew anything about her. What was it Zeph said? Don’t fall in love? Don’t get attached? Perhaps he should have listened.
But no, no, no – she feels the same. He knows it, deep down somewhere among the murky waters within him. “Don’t go.” His head tilts toward her then, the hand extended toward her to maybe grasp her own, but he doesn’t make the move to. He lets her decide. “Jus… I wanna know. Ev’’rythin’. No more secrets. ‘n try t’help me understand.” This is quieter, sadder, a hollow sensation reverberating through the tones of his voice.
The offer is there. To understand. To start over.
i never took the time to see
but i knew of its worth
but i knew of its worth
