Coyotes and Wolves, Milo Manheim Original Story

Shadow

POV: Estella

Not tonight...

That's what he said. The first time we were up here together, he said, "We can't do this." I know I get paranoid, and sometimes I get too deep in my head and then I get mean and mess everything up, and I'm trying. I'm really trying. I never expected him to come out of the light and into the shadows, where I've been for the better part of a year. I went into that den, and a part of me never came out. Does he feel that? That I might not be a whole person anymore? Is that why he doesn't want me...like that?

"You don't...you don't want to?" I asked, with a slight tone of concern and bitterness.

Milo sighed. "I have a pulse, don't I?" He retorted.

He wouldn't look me in the eyes when he said it. It wasn't an answer. He was holding back.

"Then, why does it seem like you don't want me to touch you, or do other things for you? And, why do you keep pushing back about sleeping with me?" I challenged, in a low tone.

I've never been good at tact.

"Baby, it's three O'clock in the morning. I just think it's time we get some sleep." Milo argued.

Sleep. Yeah. We have the opportunity, the place, and the mood is set. My parents are gone, and the night has been amazing in a way that was incredibly unexpected. That's what every teenage guy wants in this scenario, right? Sleep.

"Sorry for wasting your time." I muttered, wrapping a sheet around me, and walking towards my dresser, pulling out a set of white pajamas, that included a tee shirt and cotton pants.

I couldn't keep myself in a vulnerable state with him, not right now. Not while he's hiding something.

You want me to trust you, Milo? But, you don't trust me.

Milo sighed, understanding that I was clearly upset, and walked over to his clothes and slid on his underwear, having no pajamas of his own at the moment. I had nothing to give him, and frankly I wasn't too concerned.

"Do you want me to go?" He uttered, in a soft, serious tone.

"Do whatever you want, I guess." I replied, keeping my voice even and crawling into my bed.

I turned my back to him. Maybe I did want him to go. Maybe I just wanted him to understand why I was upset. I should just say it and end his misery, if he even cared. But, I wasn't feeling particularly kind at the moment.

"I want to stay with you. If that's...okay." He murmured, quietly.

Oh, good. He's going to stay here, all night. Why bother? Oh, I see, it's guilt. Or pity, for the fucked up emo girl. Maybe that's why he wanted to spend the night "taking care" of me. He couldn't just run for the hills after he found out what happened to me. Then, he'd be a major asshole. This way he gets to break it off, scott free. After all, he didn't ask me to jerk him off. I just did it. Now, I feel sick. Like, maybe he didn't really want it.

Fine. I'll make it easier for him. He can blame it on me. Just like everyone else.

So, I simply nodded silently, with my back turned. Perhaps he'd get too chilly from the freeze out.

I saw his reflection in the window and he shook his head sadly, but crawled into my bed, and laid next to me just a few inches away.

"Are you cold?" He asked, in a whisper.

I shook my head, no.

"Can I cuddle you anyway?" He pressed, in a sad tone.

I turned to look at his face, and the sad puppy-like expression that lingered as his big brown eyes pleaded with me.