Coyotes and Wolves, Milo Manheim Original Story

Game on, Princess

POV: Milo

I made sure my mom wasn't home, and I snuck into my house to shower and change my clothes, after I dropped off Estella.

What the fuck was I gonna do? I basically told my mom that I couldn't be here anymore, but what other choice did I have?

I was also really pent up after that heavy petting session with Estella in the park. It's totally fine, I mean, it wasn't the best time. But God, did I want to be inside of her after what happened this morning, and with that dickhead at the arcade. A release would've been so fucking cathartic. 

I can't believe that after everything she went through yesterday, Estella wanted to spend the day basically playing and having fun. And I was wrong, date night was still on. Estella was insisting on taking me out, and aside from me driving she wanted to be in charge of the planning. 

I could do this. I could give up control for one night...maybe...I may have to draw the line at her paying for anything though. It just doesn't sit right. I'm not my dad. I can't just plant my ass while my girl spends her own money on me. I believe in equality, don't get me wrong, but this is a personal issue that I have. I can't stand that my dad did that for basically my entire life. My mom always has to work longer and extra hours because he'd get fired or spend all the money on alcohol and sometimes whatever drugs he could find. He couldn't take care of his family. No, scratch that. He wouldn't! And I refuse to end up like him. 

Estella said to just pull up and she'd run out...part of her plan to keep the focus on me, she said. She'd wished she could pick me up and drive, but she still wasn't comfortable driving, and anyway, I don't think having my girlfriend drive me around like Miss Daisy would've been great for my control issues. I'd probably start hyperventilating as soon as she hit the gas.

I know she's a smart, capable, independent woman, and I love that about her.
I know that I'm the Big Bad Wolf and everything, but I usually try to keep that separate from real life, unless of course we have the opportunity to...well, you know. Lately though, with all the stress and everything that happened to Estella, it's been much easier and honestly really tempting to slip into that control freak head space. It makes me feel, I don't know-- like, I have power, I guess. Especially when I feel threatened or like everything is falling apart around me. Maybe, that's why Estella didn't get pissed when I acted like an animal at the Arcade. Maybe, she needed to feel controlled as much as I needed to be in control. 

God, we're so fucked up. 

That's just me though. I'm a twisted up mess of trauma, overthinking, and neurosis, but I least I can admit it. 

So, why she was insisting on keeping this date plan? I have no idea, probably because she already promised it, although I never asked her to. I think she wants to do something nice for me, especially after she got an earful of my lovely mother's sweet angelic support. Or, she just wants to torture me. Sometimes it's hard to tell. But, I'll play along, for her. Maybe it'll be okay...

I texted her when I got to her house, and as promised she came running out. We were going to the club. She said she wanted to dance. Said she wanted to hear music and feel free for the night. I was getting a little worried about how social she suddenly wanted to be after what happened to her. Like she was running away from it, and trying to bury it in "fun". I get, wanting to let loose a little after something traumatic happened, but this was a hard left for Estella. She didn't usually escape like this...she'd hide and brood, and destroy everyone with sarcasm, mainly me. Which I can handle. But at least when she did that, I knew she was feeling her feelings.

She looked...uh oh!

Estella walked out with a cat that ate the canary smirk, wearing a slinky white dress. The fabric looked like silk.