Star crossed losers:)

Star crossed losers (and other strangers)

Milo had always thought his name had been some kind of joke he never got- which wasn't to say that he disliked it- but it meant soldier and isn't the world funny like that? Funny like his brothers laughing when he told them, chest puffed out in an awkward attempt to be like his older siblings, that he would be a soldier like his namesake. And of course they laughed because what kind of soldier had asthma, and bad knees, and an infatuation with classic literature. It was days like this Milo wished his brothers had been wrong all those years ago, the anniversary was always hard and today he could use a soldier's courage.

Ever since he was old enough to go out on his own, Milo would often find himself at the cemetery. For the longest time he didn't have anyone to visit, so to anybody who'd ask what he was doing there, he'd just sigh and say, "Spirits don't have anyone to read to them." He wouldn't explain further, and for years, the people in their too-small town would recount the odd boy with a deep, unexplained sadness in his eyes. And still, even if it brought perplexed gazes, Milo longs for the days where he came without anyone to visit, the days when the sadness was still unexplained.

So in short, it was a habit. He came at least once a month with a bouquet of flowers and an old book. He would sit at his sister's grave, and read to the spirits, just like he had all those years ago. But money was tight and rent was due and flowers were expensive. So when he passes a garden, bursting with peonies and lilies and wildflowers and everything his older sister loved, well what else was he to do? Habit had made him a thief, and if he thinks about it he will realize he never had a soldier's discipline either, so he doesn't think about it. He figures it's not hurting anyone if he picks a few, so that's what he does. After all, it's not fair for her grave to be empty, and Milo knows that that isn't the most unfair part of this situation, but he chooses to ignore that fact.

Milo crouches in front of the fence- his creaky joints protesting- and reaches through the rusty, dark, iron bars to make a small bouquet of the flowers he thought she would've liked. As soon as he continues his trek to the graveyard, a voice, powerful and gentle all at the same time, pulls him out of his thoughts,
"Excuse me?" she starts, and Milo swears he can feel his heart drop to the pit of his stomach as he turns around to face her.
"I'm sorry, I just- here," he says holding out the bouquet of neatly picked flowers to the mysterious woman. She looks at him quizzically before speaking,
"Well there's really no use in already picked flowers," and though there is not anger in her voice, Milo winces, and apologizes again,
"I really am sorry, I just thought-" he speaks meekly before being cut off,
"Keep them, I promise it's fine, but I do have one question,"
"Shoot," Milo says, trying to keep casual but his hands are shaking around the bouquet and he can't help but feel there's a catch.
"Who is she?"
"Pardon"
"The girl, I mean she's got to be something special to warrant flower theft,"
"Uhhhh"
"I guess we just have to see for ourselves if she's worth the risk of getting caught," and all at once Milo's brain stops short-circuiting and the woman's words finally register.
"We? I- Who even are you," He asks incredulously, "No offense, by the way," he adds because even now, years later, he can still hear his mother's voice telling him to mind his manners.
"An enigma, darling" and again he is taken aback, apparently visibly so, and the woman gives a lazy smile and says, "kidding, I'm Venera." He stands there for a moment still shocked by the nature of this woman, she was right, he thinks, she's quite the enigma. He ponders saying this out loud, but settles instead for a greeting after realizing he'd been frozen longer than socially acceptable,
"Right, sorry. I'm Milo" and he extends his hand for Venera to shake, and instead she grabs it, leading him down the road he was going down when she caught him.

As the two of them walk, they make light chatter, but Venera clearly isn't much one for small talk and Milo is still a little shaken up by the everything that's just happened. He gives quiet directions and tries not to think about how he's going to tell this woman he's taking her to a cemetery, and resolved instead to really look at possibly the oddest person he'd ever met. Venera was true to her name, a thing of beauty, a spectacle and clearly she liked it that way. Her big curly hair was dyed a poison red and she wore a black leather jacket despite the early summer heat. Distantly, Milo realizes that they must look like an odd pair, him, and his odd posture and awkward limbs in an old sweater and ragged converse, and her, bold in black leather and radiating a confidence Milo could only dream of. This he thinks, this is a soldier's courage. He finally stops observing, when Venera asks again for directions, and he realizes with a start that they are there.