leave me. miles fairchild x female reader.

Chapter Two.

Chapter Two.

(Y/N) Mandell had struggled with insomnia for the majority of her life. This came as no shock to her because her mother, Kate, had also struggled with her own irregular sleep patterns. (Y/N)'s disorder caused her to spend many hours of the night tossing and turning and having the urge to get up and wander around. Which is exactly what she did on her first night at Bly Manor. The young girl stifled a gasp as her dainty feet pressed against the chilling floor. (Y/N)'s head darts to the side as she hears her mother stirring in her bed. She tiptoes to the door, wraps her hand around the handle and warily turns it. Her lengthy nightgown flowing in between her ankles, she scampers down the riveting hallway. The floor squeaks with each step she takes. (Y/N) is cautious about the amount of noise she is making. Flora is sleeping soundly in her room, Mrs. Grose is snoring, Kate is grinding her teeth, and Miles is listening to music. All Apologies by Nirvana can be faintly heard from downstairs where his bedroom is.

"Miles is listening to music? It's-" (Y/N) stops her sentence and glances over at a large grandfather clock resting against the shadowed wall.

"3:18am. Why is he awake?" She whispers to herself. The girl picks up her nightgown with her frigid fingers and begins walking down the staircase.

"Why is this house so cold? It's obvious they can afford to heat the house at night." (Y/N) mutters as she reaches the bottom of the stairs. The music grows louder and (Y/N) hesitates and places her hand on the banister.

Should I go to his room? He's the only other person in the house who's awake and I know I won't be able to sleep for a while.

She wonders. (Y/N) takes a deep breath before proceeding on toward the door. Her hand smoothly knocks upon it.

"Who are you?" Miles' somewhat raspy and apathetic voice speaks.

"It's (Y/N). (Y/N) Mandell." She replies, pressing her hand against the door.

"Do you want to come in?" He asks, his voice sounding quite unwelcoming.

"Actually, yes. I do want to come in. May I?" (Y/N) stands up straighter, feeling more confident than before.

"Fine." The girl pushes the door open and sees Miles lying on his bed, supporting his head in his arms. His curls are sprawled across his pillow. His eyes follow the teenage girl as she walks into his room and takes a look around. (Y/N)'s eyes stop and focus on a guitar which is propped up beside his bed.

"Do you play?" She asks, wonder filling her eyes. Miles lifts his head and raises a singular eyebrow.

"Why would I have the guitar if I didn't play?" His voice drips with condescension. (Y/N) is unbothered. She struts up to the guitar and admires it some more. She then takes a seat at the end of Miles' mattress. The boy looks at her with a sudden interest.

"Why are you awake?" He asks.

"I could ask you the same question, Miles." She smirks at him to which he very subtly smiles back before turning away and closing a notebook beside him.

"Is that your diary?" She teases and inches closer. Miles flinches as she leans nearer to him.

"It's not a diary and to be frank, it's none of your business either way." He scoffs. (Y/N) looks over to him, and studies him with her eyes. The boy looks at her up and down.

"Nice nightgown." He says, unenthusiastically. (Y/N) takes a second to see what he's wearing. A dark grey knit sweater, baggy jeans, and vans.

"Thanks. Why are you wearing day clothes?" She asks with a chuckle.

"You never know when you'll have to leave." He states, his expression blank.

"Oh. I guess you're right. Anyway, your house is beautiful. My mother and I were talking about how Flora's friends must love it here but she said she doesn't have any at the moment. Do your friends like it here?" She smiles, not knowing how deeply scarred and broken Miles is.

"You ask a lot of questions. I go to boarding school so I don't normally have the opportunity to invite my friends here. I guess now I do. I don't think I will end up inviting them though. They're not really friends, more like acquaintances." His voice drops at the end.

"Okay. Well, if you wanted, we could be friends. You're sixteen, right? So am I." Miles leisurely faces his head toward (Y/N). She smiles, shyly.

"Sure." Miles says, moving faintly closer. His words cause (Y/N) to smile a bright and full smile. The corner of Miles' mouth turns up.

"So, Nirvana, huh?" She gestures to the record player sitting beside his mattress.

"Yep. What kind of music do you like?" He directs his gaze at the record spinning.

"I'm mostly into 80's music but I vibe with ACDC, Backstreet Boys, and Nirvana." (Y/N) smiles with her eyes at the boy.

"Nice. Do you ride horses?" He bites his lip lightly.

"I haven't before." The girl leans closer.

"I could teach you if you want." Miles smirks.

"Yea, sure. That would be fun!" She says, her smile growing wider. Miles' smirk grows into a full smile.

"Miles, can I ask you something and you have to respond completely truthfully?" (Y/N) expression changes, drastically.

"Yes?" He replies.

"Why are you home? It's not a holiday. You don't have a reason to be here. Did something happen?" She asks with concern on her face. Miles hesitates.

"I- Well, let's just say I had a little disagreement with one of the other students." He looks conflicted. He doesn't know whether he should grin or show remorse.

"What kind of disagreement? Were you... were you kicked out, Miles?" (Y/N) stutters out.

"You better not tell your mother about this... yes." He says with discomfort.

"Okay, I won't ask you any more about that. Sorry." (Y/N) immediately regretted asking about what happened at school. She didn't know much about the boy but she could tell that he shared many similarities with an exposed wire.

"Anyway, you should go to bed. It's late." Miles hisses. The girl obviously struck a cord.

"But I'm not tired-" She starts.

"Go." He snapped. (Y/N) carefully stands up and picks up her nightgown. She steadily walks to the door before pausing there and looking back. Their eyes meet and (Y/N) feels a pit in her stomach. No, not a pit, a seed? Not a seed. She wasn't sure what to make of it but she turns back and continues walking up the stairs, back to her room.