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"
He listens to Aurelia, and he absolutely takes some playful offense to what she says, his hand coming up to his chest, his jaw dropping as he cuts her a look that’s almost hurt. “Most things?” He asks in a voice that’s lifted slightly, as if in astonishment. “’ll ‘ave ya know I try m’best.” Squinting at her with a breaking resolve, he finds the edge of his mouth begin to lift in a small curl of a smirk.
All in all, though, he devours the sandwich just as Aurelia has, and blinks at the spider in the makeshift tank. “They all sorta look like a her t’me.” He purses his lips. He’s probably wrong, but there’s no way for him to tell that he’s aware of. They’re all pretty and bright hued, skittish things. “’m bad with names. What would you call ‘er?” Milo asks, looking back to Aurelia with curiosity in the bronze of his gaze.
All in all, though, he devours the sandwich just as Aurelia has, and blinks at the spider in the makeshift tank. “They all sorta look like a her t’me.” He purses his lips. He’s probably wrong, but there’s no way for him to tell that he’s aware of. They’re all pretty and bright hued, skittish things. “’m bad with names. What would you call ‘er?” Milo asks, looking back to Aurelia with curiosity in the bronze of his gaze.
that's what everybody wants an' some more
singing "you may be the death of me"
singing "you may be the death of me"
