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
He doesn’t want to lie to her. He doesn’t want to tell her that he’ll understand, that one day he could figure it out, that he might be able to put himself in her place back on that other world and do exactly what she did. But he’d be lying. It could take years and he’s still not sure he’d understand it all. And that wasn’t her fault, that was simply how it was. And despite Milo’s relatively not sheltered upbringing, he had been sheltered from the Outlanders for a good majority of time.
But he wraps his arms around her, he can feel her tense up, and he’s prepared to let her go the minute she decides she doesn’t want this. He nearly holds his breath in anticipation of it. Only… It doesn’t come, she scans his face and he can’t hide the sorrow and sadness that flicker through his swimming gaze. But she comes back. And he buries his face along the top of her head, taking in the scent of her to try and steady himself.
Would he do the same as she did? For his family? He doesn’t know. He wants to say that he would, but he still doesn’t want to lie to her. And so he listens, takes a few sharp breaths because he’s just now remembered his lungs. He can hardly hear her through the muffling of her shirt and the terror that drowns in his ears, but he tries, strains himself to listen.
And when she doesn’t attack him, when she doesn’t fight back at him, he manages to exhale a shuddering sigh, to pull her tighter and press a hand into her dark hair. “Y’got me.” He murmurs softly, even if it terrifies him, even if he feels like a rabbit stuck in a trap. Maybe one day he wouldn’t. Maybe one day he’d realize that the trap wasn’t ever there in the first place. Maybe one day he’d be able to believe she’s right in how she’s changed.
But he wraps his arms around her, he can feel her tense up, and he’s prepared to let her go the minute she decides she doesn’t want this. He nearly holds his breath in anticipation of it. Only… It doesn’t come, she scans his face and he can’t hide the sorrow and sadness that flicker through his swimming gaze. But she comes back. And he buries his face along the top of her head, taking in the scent of her to try and steady himself.
Would he do the same as she did? For his family? He doesn’t know. He wants to say that he would, but he still doesn’t want to lie to her. And so he listens, takes a few sharp breaths because he’s just now remembered his lungs. He can hardly hear her through the muffling of her shirt and the terror that drowns in his ears, but he tries, strains himself to listen.
And when she doesn’t attack him, when she doesn’t fight back at him, he manages to exhale a shuddering sigh, to pull her tighter and press a hand into her dark hair. “Y’got me.” He murmurs softly, even if it terrifies him, even if he feels like a rabbit stuck in a trap. Maybe one day he wouldn’t. Maybe one day he’d realize that the trap wasn’t ever there in the first place. Maybe one day he’d be able to believe she’s right in how she’s changed.
i never took the time to see
but i knew of its worth
but i knew of its worth
