Coyotes and Wolves, Milo Manheim Original Story

I Don't Want You to be Anyone

POV: Third Person

Milo engulfed Estella into his arms, protectively. There were so many things going on in his mind. Anger, guilt, fear, revenge. But, this moment had to be about her. It didn't matter what he felt about it. It didn't happen to him, and he'd have to wait to process that part later. He wasn't sure what he could even do for her. He'd wanted her to tell him, so he could help her. But now, the helpless feeling coming over him was overwhelming. Now he was afraid of what he might do if she revealed the whole story.

"I've got you, babygirl." Milo whispered into her hair, as she soaked the front of his shirt.

Of course, he didn't give a damn about that.

Hearing him supporting her, and not judging her or freaking out, gave way to the flood gate of emotions . She didn't cry in front of anyone. Not even her parents. It hurt them to see her like this. In pain. Broken. Unstable. A far cry from Queen Estella, the Cheerleading Captain, the straight A student, Captain of the Debate team, the it girl.

Damn, she hated that girl now. Hated her for being so arrogant, and naive.

As she began to openly sob, he drew her in closer, if that was even possible.

"What do you need right now, Estella? What can I do?" Milo asked, gently.

She pulled away slowly, wiping at her tears and composing herself so she could speak.

"Honestly." She chuckled, uncomfortably. "No one's ever asked me that before. I don't know how to answer that."

"Well, I think it's important. I want to be whoever you need me to be, right now." He replied.

"I don't want you to be anything. I want you to be Milo." She expressed.

"Well, I've had lots of practice, so I think I can manage that." Milo quipped, to relieve some of the tension. "Can you do something for me though, babygirl?"

"Um...sure, what?" She asked, a little confused.

"Can you please take off that goddamn dress, and change back into Estella?" He answered.

An abrupt laugh left her throat, and she wiped away more of her smudged mascara. She looked down at her hand and the black sludge that now streaked across her fingers.

"Ugh. I'm a mess." She chuckled again, and sighed.

"I don't want you to be anyone, but Estella. Ever again. I don't know that fancy, rich, chick. Maybe she was cool, but this girl right here, she's my Estella." Milo expressed, genuinely.

A genuine smile spread across her face, and she turned to walk upstairs to get changed.

"Can you just hang out for a little bit?" She asked. "I think I wanna take a quick shower."

"No. You're not taking a shower. " He replied, in a matter of fact tone.

"I'm...I'm not?" She laughed, puzzled by his abrupt statement.

"No." He said, pointedly.

He walked towards her slowly and carefully, and placed his hands on her cheeks, as she gazed up at his kind eyes.

"You're going to take a bath. And you're going to let your boyfriend take care of you." He instructed her, with resolve.

"Milo..." She began, nervously.

"Unless, you're not comfortable with that. Then, I'll wait down here all night if you need me to." He countered, supportively.

"No, it's just, I never did that with anyone before." Estella explained.