MILO
now they're standing in the door
singin' "that's my shit, that's my shit"
singin' "that's my shit, that's my shit"
The resounding Nope! has his head tilting curiously – abandoning the sandwiches for now despite the way how his stomach growls in protest. Because obviously curiosity overcomes hunger for the smuggler any day. So he turns to her fully, watching her hands as she reveals it, the top hand covering it opening wide to reveal the tarantula beneath.
His bronze eyes light up as he spies the orange little bands around the legs of the tarantula and a grin spreads across his face. “Oy, she’s real pretty.” Milo comments, wiping his hands of the ingredients on his pants, because he cares less about his appearance in the face of this pretty creature. “Grew fast, yeah?” His gaze lifts to Aurelia’s face with a crooked grin. “’Course I wanna hold it.” There’s a boyish, childish eagerness to his voice as his hands come out.
One hand nears Aurelia’s while the other overs behind the tarantula, trying to guide it into his waiting hand. “C’mere, s’okay.” He murmurs gently to the arachnid, trying to bribe it over toward him.
His bronze eyes light up as he spies the orange little bands around the legs of the tarantula and a grin spreads across his face. “Oy, she’s real pretty.” Milo comments, wiping his hands of the ingredients on his pants, because he cares less about his appearance in the face of this pretty creature. “Grew fast, yeah?” His gaze lifts to Aurelia’s face with a crooked grin. “’Course I wanna hold it.” There’s a boyish, childish eagerness to his voice as his hands come out.
One hand nears Aurelia’s while the other overs behind the tarantula, trying to guide it into his waiting hand. “C’mere, s’okay.” He murmurs gently to the arachnid, trying to bribe it over toward him.
that's what everybody wants an' some more
singing "you may be the death of me"
singing "you may be the death of me"
