She turned to him with a smile that she tried to fight. "If we make it out of this you owe me a least five movie nights." the girl rushed out wide eyed.
Miles simply scoffs, "Don't phrase it like I have a choice otherwise." His words were immediate...
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THE FIRST THING YOU SEE WHEN YOU WALK INTO MILES MORALES ROOM IS A MESS— You find him destroying everything in his path. The books that were on his desk and his clothes that were hung up in the closet, everything and anything is on the floor.
Anger was pouring out of him in buckets, threatening to drown you both.
And there you find him, at the root of it all, he's standing in the middle staring down at one open book. You cautiously approach him, "Miles?" At first, you think he doesn't hear you so you try again. "Mil-" You don't get to finish because he's turning to you.
With a face, you've only seen once in your life.
Despair and anger are a dangerous mix, and that's just the thing Miles Morales is facing right now. But underneath it all is one more that's laying dormant.
Revenge.
You take a bigger step towards him, hoping to comfort him but he stops you. His jaw is clenched. A telltale sign that Miles wasn't happy. The look in his eyes was so foreign to you.
So ... empty.
"Miles we have to go." You speak up finally. The silence carried your voice over to him and he finally looks up at you, not through you Miles is looking at you, as if he were seeing you for the first time that night.
"Miles." It took all the strength you had left to keep your voice from breaking, reaching out to close the gap between your bodies your fingers brushed against his forearm. For a moment he let himself melt into the soft touch before snapping himself back into your current harsh reality, immediately recoiling.
"Don't." His voice was gruff, aiming a semi-cold glare at you.
"Don't apologize. Please."
His reaction wasn't unreasonable given the circumstances, so you didn't push him, though you couldn't help but feel the sting of his rejection. You wanted to apologize, for every horrible thing that had happened to him recently, for Aaron, for not being there. You wanted to throw your arms around him and never let him go again, never let another bad thing come close to him.
But you held back and respected his request.
"You're not coming." He simply says like he could make that decision. You sputter and do a double take, what? "You can't just leave me behind, Miles." A short chuckle leaves your lips you think he's joking, he has to be, right?
But it wasn't a joke. He's dead serious. "I can and I will. We can't throw you into this!" And it's those words that seem to trigger you. You know he's grieving, you know he just lost his uncle but that isn't fair, this wasn't fair.
He can't make that kind of call.
"I'm not uncle Aaron." She proclaimed firmly.
That one sentence has him stunned to silence. He can't seem to find the words, all the emotions he's feeling are fighting their way to the surface, screaming, scratching at his throat like an itch that can't be fixed. He stands in place fighting a battle alone for the first time.
