Always and Forever, My Friend (Miles Morales [Dim. 42] x F! Reader)

Chapter Seven

With darkness shrouding his room in its dark cloak, the usual sounds of commotion outside his street-facing window nonexistent, Miles knew something was wrong as soon as he awoke. Usually he woke up to dim skies illuminating his room just as the honks of traffic became known. Yet here he was, consumed by shadows in the desolation of silence.

He picked up his phone and looked at the screen with lazy and blurred vision, tossing his phone to the ground with a light thud as he groaned into his pillow. Five twenty-three.  Of course it would be today that he couldn't sleep.

He rolled over and tried to fall asleep, squeezing his eyes shut with a sigh.  But just as he started to drift off, whispers of failure and mistakes from the past and possible things that could go wrong today flooded his imagination.  The more he tried to ignore these thoughts, the more loud they became.  So loud that it got to the point where there was no way he was going to fall back asleep.

With a sigh of defeat, he got out of bed.  He cursed his mind under his breath as he grabbed his phone off the floor and looked at the time.  Five twenty-eight.  The fact that such little time had passed felt like mockery to Miles, like a sick joke.  But alas, the time was what it was, and there was nothing he could do to make it go by faster.

The only thing he could do was what he did every morning.  So he did, starting with a quick cold shower to wake him up before he got dressed for school.  Nothing too fancy, just cargo pants, a baggy band tee, and a hoody to go over it with a pair of matching Jordans. 

Since he decided to stay at his old school and not transfer to Visions, even after he tried it out for a couple weeks, he was able to express himself more freely, and that was something he enjoyed greatly.  And his way of expression was through his clothes.

Next he packed up his bag.  He lazily dropped his school books in, only being slightly more careful when handling his computer.  When he put the painting in, however, he handled it as if it were the most fragile piece of glass in the world.  He made sure it was well protected from his books and anything else in his bag. In fact, he wrapped it in several pieces of bubble wrap he found around the house just in case.

When all was said and done, he grabbed something quick out of the cabinet for breakfast. Then he wrote a note for his mom letting her know that he left early and not to be worried that she didn't see him. And without another word, he slipped out of the apartment without making a single sound, locking the door behind him.

As he exited the building, he checked his phone, rolling his eyes at what came on the screen. Five fifty-six.  He slid his headphones over his head before turning on his favorite playlist, beginning his journey of wandering the streets of Brooklyn.

If he were to describe his surroundings as pretty, he would be lying.  The sun hadn't risen yet, so the sky was dark, the only thing illuminating the sky the random fires caused by the carnage ensued by the Sinister Six.  He passed not a single person as he walked, save for a few sleeping homeless people and suspicion wide eyed twitchy folks who reeked of booze.  If he were to properly describe his surroundings, he would use one word:

Dreadful.

Yet he continued to wander the streets without a destination in mind, humming to himself as he watched his surroundings as though he were on his night watch with his Uncle Aaron.  As his feet travelled, so did his mind, thinking about the plan he and Mike made.