When can you come back again? [MILEX] +18

9

00 hs - January 06, 2019

Miles: I'm going back to 505. In my imagination, you're waitin' lyin' on your side with your hands between your thighs. I'd probably still adore you with your hands around my neck or I did last time I checked. Take my hands off of your eyes too soon and I miss you... I still carry with me the latent memory of that morning when I found you in your room. I couldn't bear to see you like this right now because I crumble completely when you cry. I still adore you with your hands between your thighs and a smile.

It seems like once again you've had to greet me with goodbye.

Alex

August 31, 2018

The hotel atmosphere was surprisingly calm. I was feeling more and more anxious about Miles' arrival, and boredom at the lack of work made me feel worse. The darkness of the night arrived with a downpour. When it was nine, I had dinner. At ten o'clock, I changed my shoes for rubber boots and under an umbrella I went out to do the usual tour of the park, which I cancelled shortly after because although the rain was calming down, it was quite annoying. At eleven I was back at reception. I figured Miles would be here soon. Time passed and my assumptions were more and more remote from reality. I started to worry, so I called his cell phone. Several times, insistently, until I gave off. Would he have regretted it? Even if he had, his belongings were still at the hotel. I considered two scenarios: an accident due to the rain or the old bad habit of succumbing to temptations. I mentally questioned myself about my fateful thoughts. Maybe he just felt tired and preferred to sleep in his apartment to come back in the morning. But why didn't he call to let me know? Nor was the lonely, rainy and silent early morning being of much help, where, awake, I had no idea what to do, and if I should communicate with someone. I decided to wait until morning, if he didn't come back, I would ask Matt for help. But this wasn't the most successful resolution, because by eight in the morning, my concern was overwhelming me, making my whole body ache from the tension I felt, adding to it the fact that I hadn't rested, other than for half an hour in the office.

Matt walked into the lobby looking at his cell phone and typing something on it, while commenting that Mark was late. When he looked up and found my presence, with a worried face, he asked:

- Are you ok? You look pale

- Miles didn't come... something bad happened. I feel it ...

- What did you say? Maybe he just fell asleep

- If he had decided to spend the night in London, he would have called me, but he didn't, and I got tired of calling him until his cell phone stopped ringing and it took me directly to voicemail, you must help me ...

- Shit, Alex ... do you think ...?

- No! It's impossible! It doesn't make sense! I saw his suffering myself, why would he go back to the same thing?

Matthew gave me a sympathetic look.

- Well ... don't be naive ... we have known or heard about these cases, once you are in you cannot ...

- MILES IS NOT LIKE THAT!

At my furious interruption, he gestured with his arms a sign indicating not to yell.

- Okay, calm down, don't raise your voice ... As soon as Mark arrives, we'll go to his house, you have his address, right?

My answer was given by my heavy gaze.

- Certain! The registration form! Everything will be fine, calm down ...

When Mark arrived at the hotel, I bolted for Matthew's car. It was midmorning, Miles's cell phone kept turning me off and there was no apparent sign of him. My friend, with a slow walk, got into his car and started towards the city. It took us half an hour to reach and about ten minutes to get to the apartment we were looking for. I got out of the car and desperately climbed the three steps that led to an entrance with a double glass door. Shit. Miles hadn't specified the apartment number. Given the situation, I didn't mind trying all five of them. Neither responded. I tried again.