brown haired boy ✓

twelve.

"are you okay?"

miles smiled, "well, aside from head trauma, yes."

he wasn't that drunk, he could still walk properly, only stumbling every once and a while. he must've had a ridiculously high tolerance of alcohol and i guess the high and beers numbed the pain, he'd be feeling it the next day.

"why'd you break up with her?" i asked as i rubbed the back of his head, guiltily and then pulled my hand back, fiddling with my guitar that he'd sat down on the ground in between us. there seemed to be a tension barrier between us at that moment and i was afraid to cross it.

"we never broke up."

i had to stop myself from jumping to conclusions again, "then what happened?"

he let out a humorless, bitter laugh as if he'd been punched in the gut. miles smiled sarcastically at me, his face pointed skywards, "life happened or rather death."

and with that he was up and on his feet, wincing and grabbing his head before zipping and picking up his duffle, swinging it over his shoulder.

"i'm sorry, miles-"

"come on, let's um... let's get going... you probably shouldn't be hanging out with me after dark." he said, hostility in his voice, he seemed to be trying to avert the conversation and i didn't protest.

"why? are you the boogeyman?" i mocked even though i was already packing away my guitar.

miles rolled his eyes before grabbing my hand and yanking me up. my hand in his felt all the more right, "i'm serious georgie." and with that, he turned me around and pushed the guitar on my back pulling my arms through as if i couldn't do it myself.