𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐑 | 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒍 𝒐𝒏𝒆-𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒔

the snowstorm taxi ⋆ miles morales

[ just a little note ! this is kind of a college au of sorts, miles is in his twenties in this story. also, i originally wrote this with a female original character for my english class and i believe i fixed all of the pronoun errors, but there might be a few mistakes since i changed the main character from my female character to miles. just a little heads up, sorry if there are any ! ]

The snow crunched under Miles's feet as he looked left and right down the unfamiliar street. Thoughts floated nervously through his mind as his feet quietly broke the clumps of snow and ice lining the roads, each one getting a bit more anxious than the last.

Oh God, he finally admitted to himself. I'm so lost.

With a shaky hand, he placed his groceries on the ground next to his feet, pulled off his glove, and took his phone out of his coat pocket to open the phone app. Miles's cold fingers hovered over the screen for a moment as he debated whether or not the situation truly was serious enough to call for help, but as his head tilted up once more at the foreign scenery and the time ticked to 5:17 PM, he knew he had to make the call. His fingertips gently pressed the name on his phone, and within milliseconds his stomach dropped as a soft ringing began to sound. With a deep breath, Miles held the phone up to his ear, the glass screen slipping underneath the warm safety of his hat and chilling the side of his head.

"Oh, Miles! Are you near?" His mother's thick Latin accent seemed to sound even louder than usual, and Miles couldn't tell if it was because of the myriad of voices coming from the background or if it was because of how silent the landscape around Miles was.

"Not quite," Miles answered hesitantly. "I went to go and get the groceries at the address you gave me, but the taxi driver I had didn't wait for me, and I have no clue where I am. I tried to call an Uber–"

"Miles Gonzalo Morales, you know how I feel about you taking an Uber. You have no idea who those people are!"

Miles wanted to mention that there was no way to know a taxi driver either, but he bit his tongue as he continued. "I know, Mom, but I had no other option. No one couldn't pick me up out here, anyway. But now I'm stuck in whatever town the store that you sent me is in, and I have no clue how to get home. Can you help?"

"Sur–," Miles's mother began, but she was cut off. Miles heard a hand cover the speaker on the other end, and soon afterward his mother's voice yelling in Spanish for Miles's uncle to take the food out of the oven and to gather the children up to help with cooking. "Sorry, honey," his mother returned after a few moments. "I'm on my way now. It'll only be about twenty minutes until I'm there. Hold tight, okay?"

"Okay, thank you so much. You're a lifesaver," Miles said through a shiver, and he hoped that his gratitude translated over the phone.

"Of course. I'll see you soon, bye!"

Miles opened his mouth to return the statement, but his phone gave a final beep as he took a breath to. Instantly, he was left with only vestiges of his mother's voice as he looked up at the road in front of him. Snow had begun to fall, and Miles could see the sun beginning to set behind the treeline. The temperature was already dropping, so Miles quickly pulled his gloves back on before picking up the grocery bags and continuing down the sidewalk.

After a few minutes, Miles came across a booth for what looked like a bus stop. Grateful for the small amount of refuge from the snowfall and for the break for his freezing legs, he took a seat inside the covered bench seats. The groceries thumped down next to Miles as he fell onto the icy seat and let out a breath, thankful for being able to get off his feet. He pulled out his phone to send a short text to his mother.

"I'm at the bus stop at the intersection of Hundire and Geopole. See you soon!" The message read, and after the small sound of the message going through, Miles set his phone in his lap. A few minutes of silence passed, and Miles looked out at the darkening street in front of him. The snow falling seemed to only fall faster and heavier, and Miles could tell there was already at least an inch of snow that has coated the road. Out of curiosity, Miles lifted his phone out of his lap and opened the weather app. Expecting a soft blue for a small amount of snowfall, Miles's heart dropped at the sight of neon purple. Miles's eyes snapped to the key for the colors, and he sharply took in a breath of air at the number. Twenty to twenty four inches.