☆ ~ 𝓦𝓇𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝒮𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝒪𝒻 ℒ𝒾𝒻𝑒 - Milex Fanfic ~ ☆ [+18]

47.- First Omen

Alex and Miles take a walk on the beach to be able to find necessary pending talks.

May/June, 2011

LA

Alex

Spring came and went by gradually as I took the moment to reflect on how much I loved lying on part of the carpet in my apartment stroking the hair of the person who was now dozing on my lap.

On a perfectly romantic morning, a few birds could be heard singing a welcoming melody.

"I would like to spend every day of my life with you in this way"

We were far away from everyone, specifically located in the city of Los Angeles. Everyone thought we were working on a new project, but Miles' album was completely finished, except for the agreed release date, as was the Arctic Monkeys album. In those days we relaxed for as long as we could, knowing that the fortune that life gave us would be consumed sooner rather than later.

~

He opened his eyes, guiding his head to the sides to immediately notice my protection. With one of my hands, I covered part of his neck, and with the other his hair. Seeing how he gave me a faint smile, I was able to say hello. Miles answered and made the corners of my mouth more pronounced than usual.

"You look cute this morning..."

An unexpected moment, words were insufficient. I just stared at him without being able to reply.

"What's going on?" He asked with that naïve face.

"It's nothing.

I wet my lips to continue with that sweet look impregnated in those light brown eyes. He focused. I certainly couldn't pause the action in a soft smile like that.

"Why?" "

Miles frowned like an infant.

"It is not necessary."

"You should take it on from time to time, it makes you feel special," he interjected, bending over his skeleton to guide my chin to him in order to meet us in a delicate kiss.

"I can't believe.. w-what has happened," I searched the ground as he slowly lowered his arm, "to be with you again," I said, seeing him smile little by little.

Miles got up from the floor and stretched full body to yawn. He took a moment to stare at me as he scratched his hair.

"Come, let's take a shower," he demanded.

 I ran my hand over my chin showing discomfort, then brought two of my fingers to my lips. After all, Miles assumed that modesty should not exist in me, since it did not exist in him either.

"Am..."

"I don't think we've ever showered together," he smiled, creating a nervous itch on my cheek.

"Er, I don't think so, i..."

Miles came up to me, took my hand and led me to the bathroom. I was able to issue a timid objection, giving a gesture of embarrassment by clicking my tongue. He asked about my condition, but I could not answer because, fleetingly, my mind brought back that night a few years ago when I woke up wanting a shower, thinking about what had happened in my London apartment for my twenty-second birthday, when the water fell on my body, stimulating my mind with creative thoughts that pointed to it. Without getting out of my head, so he obeyed my desire to give me an intimate massage, which would plunge me into a scorching apogee to end with a spill of absolute fortune in the middle of the boiling water that descended through the drain.I believed that I would never stop thinking about it, that I would always live in that moment.