Post Chapter Five - Milo (Patreon)

A/N: This is assuming you took the Milo romance route within Chapter Five and you and him had some fun in the water. :) This is later that night, after the MC went home.

The heat of the lanterns were almost unbearable after the festival. Made a person feel hot and sticky under the collar. Of course, the dip in the pond had been refreshing. Active. A good way to end the evening.

Milo scrubbed a hand over his face.  He was well and truly fucked, and it was in more ways than one.

Ducking around the last of the festival goers he made his way towards a familiar wall. Milo had been scaling it since he was a kid and despite it somehow growing over the years, it was still easy to get over. Hoisting himself up on the burnt edging behind the backs of the dilapidated buildings, Milo held out his arms. Putting one foot in front of the other, he balanced on the old market line that separated the Albright land from the rest of the world.  It was of course all overgrown thicket and blackberries and Milo was pretty sure if he were to drop right there, he would fall forever. But there was a turn, about halfway down. It was a familiar one that he had used when he used to sneak to them at night. When he didn’t want Lucinda Albright to know he was coming.  Milo could navigate that area with his eyes closed.  And he kind of had to. At least here. The lanterns may have renewed, but they would never light again in this alleyway.  The grass here was plush and damp, speckled with purple flowers. He dropped down onto the green expanse, making his way towards a familiar creek and the large tree that hung protectively over it.

“You fall yet?” he called out. He didn’t look up as he kicked off his shoes and stepped into the water.

He heard the giggle. She had probably been watching him from four or five blocks away.  “Not yet,” Hazel called down to him.

There was an old swing that hung from a thick branch. It was tied together with rope and had a wooden base.  They had built it one year when they were younger. Milo hopped up on it now, his feet still grazing the water's surface. Curling his fingers around the old lines of rope, he began pumping his legs back and forth, listening to the water splash beneath him.

“How was the rest of festival?” Hazel asked. She was sitting in the tree, dangling her hands downwards and drawing intricate shapes into the night air. She lounged like a cat across the thickest part of the branch, her skirts hanging over the sides like ivy.

“It was good. You?”

“Lovely,” she sighed. “The lanterns looked especially pretty this year.”

“Why are you out here?”  Milo asked.

“Why are you?” she retorted with a raised brow.

They both grinned.

They had been coming here post lantern festival for years. The two of them always ended their night in this river. Meeting back up no matter where the evening had taken them.  It was tradition of sorts. One started when they were younger, back when they thought it was rebellious to stay up all night. Now it was an old comfort the two of them refused to shake. The older they got, the less of those types of opportunities they had. This was one of those childhood memories they clung desperately to.

“You know, Milo,” Hazel said, pillowing her head on her arms. “If you want to keep a secret from me, you need to do a bit of a better job.”

“Oh? And what secret am I keeping from you?”

“Your hair is wet. So was a certain shopkeep of mine.”

Milo didn’t look up at her. Just continued swinging. The edge of his pants were getting damp as he sliced through the water. When he didn’t say anything and let the silence follow, he heard Hazel shift above him.

“Oh, Milo.”

“Don’t.”

“I absolutely am not going to be listening to you.  Are you okay? I know that you two have been very flirtatious, and I thought that was going to be good for you. You deserve to have someone in your life. But you don’t look happy about it.”

“I had a wonderful evening on my knees in a waterfall, Hazel darling. Why wouldn’t I be happy?”

“Gross,” Hazel said. “And stop deflecting.”

“Is it deflecting if it is the truth?”

“Milo.”

Sighing, he tilted his head back so he could look up at her again. She was still lying on the branch, somehow balancing on it perfectly. But her lips were turned in a downward frown.

“It was a good time. What more do you want me to say, Hazel?”

When a spare branch hit him squarely in the side of the head he nearly fell backwards into the water.

“Don’t be an ass,” she told him firmly.  “You have a rule of not falling for anyone. I know you don’t say it, but I know it's practically the gospel of Milo at this point. And from where I’m sitting, it looks like you broke your creed without meaning to. So you now have a choice, Milo. You either accept that it is okay to be loved, or you become an unrepentant asshole over this entire situation and make me and everyone else sad.”

Milo snorted. “I like how you threw yourself in there.”

“When it comes to the people I care about? Of course, I’m including myself.  And I know you well, Milo.  You don’t mean to be an asshole, and you’ll feel guilty if you are. So why not just skip that entire part and understand that what you did tonight was okay.”

It was more than okay.  It felt incredible.  Milo had every intent to break it off tonight. Or, break off the idea of them becoming something more.  Were they ever really on? It didn’t matter. It needed to end before it went too far. But then there were the lights and the festival. Everything had felt right. It slotted in his chest in such a way that made him feel swept away with it all.  He never should have led them down to that pool.

Looking down at the ring, Malcolm’s old Baron signet, he shook his head. He had been so stupid.

But gods did they look good wet.  Water dripping down their shoulders, pooling at the dip of their neck.  The way the wisps had cast an ethereal glow all around them.  The way their thighs felt gripped in Milo’s hands.  He had wanted to shove them up against the wall and lick every bead of water that coated their skin.  Worship their very body until they knew nothing but his name. And when it was all done, he wanted to lay them out, pliant and damp against the shore, and do it all over again.

Letting his head hang down he laughed bitterly to himself.

“Fucking hell this is messed up,” he muttered.

“It’s not,” Hazel tried to soothe. “It’s just the first time you’ve let your heart open again.  It’s okay to feel this way, Milo.”

“And what about them, huh? Is it okay to keep doing this when I know it’s all going to end in some sort of bloody mess?”

He hadn’t meant to say those words.

“Why would you even think that?  They’re not Malcolm.” Slipping from the bough, Hazel climbed down the small footholds until she landed in the water. Coming to stand in front of him, she stopped the swing. She was still shorter than him. Even with him sitting. His head was bent, his feet reaching towards the smooth pebbles of the creek bed, while Hazel stood in front of him, her skirts billowing out around her.

Ducking her head, she caught his eye. “That night was terrible,” she whispered. “It changed both of us. But we can’t keep living in its shadow.”

His gaze ticked sharply to hers. “Then why do you? You’re obsessed with getting him back. You’re…”

“That’s not the same,” she said quickly.

“Isn’t it? Why are there no animals around here, Hazel? What are you doing when you sneak out here late at night?”  Leaning forward, his eyes dark, he shook his head. “I’m not the only one with secrets, it seems.”

Tipping her gaze upwards, she met him head on. There was fear in her eyes but a stubborn determination swelled there as well. “No. You’re not. But I’m not the one still punishing myself because I couldn’t save him.”

Milo wanted to protest. To scream and rage at her. Because how dare she. How dare she insinuate that that was what he was doing. She didn’t know the half of what he had gone through or what he would continue to do. She didn’t know a damn thing. But when he looked at her, he felt himself deflate.  Hazel had been there that night. Had held him. The two of them had held each other.  He sometimes forgot he didn’t have to be alone.

Cupping his cheeks in the warmth of her hands, Hazel smiled softly at him.  “I think you two are cute together. And while I never ever ever want to hear any of the details of tonight, I am happy for you.”

Milo couldn’t help but feel guilty over her words. But at the same time, it was so hard to refuse the affection she so readily gave.

“You going to be able to handle it all again?” he asked. He didn’t know why. He knew it wouldn’t be this way. But…

“Handle what? Seeing you sneak around behind my back, thinking that I don’t know exactly what you’re doing?”

He laughed at her. “Yeah.”

“I think I can handle it,” she said.  “Now, hold on tight. I’m going to push you. And I want to see if we can beat our record.”

This, Milo knew how to do. Old games. Old habits. Safety. He jumped at the opportunity.  Standing on the swing, he gripped the ropes tight.  Hazel shuffled through the water behind him before starting to push at his back. He could feel the second she threaded her magic into the push.

“I can make it,” he told her.

“Two more pushes. On the third, jump.”

Milo held his breath, curling his back as he readied himself. One push. Breathe in. Breathe out.  Two pushes.  Steady. Don’t rush it.

Then, the third.

Milo leapt from the swing, air born for just one minute. For one minute nothing mattered. Not the things to come. Not the decisions he had to make or the actions he had to follow through. Just him and Hazel in the creek like when they were kids. Stupidly trying to jump to the tree branch.

When he did, when his arms wrapped around the thick bough, and he scrambled upwards, it was with a shout of surprise. Down below, Hazel was kicking the water, hollering in victory as beads of dew flew into the air. Never before had they been able to do it. It had always ended with Milo, face first in the creek bed.

Standing on the branch, Milo bowed with a flourish.

When he fell into the water seconds later, it was to the sound of Hazel’s cackling laughter.  He was much bigger now and his footing was not as sure as when he was a child. But, despite hitting his shoulder against a rock and chocking a bit as he sucked in what he thought was a tadpole, Milo couldn’t help but laugh as well.  Because this was normal. This was why he was doing what he had set out to do.  Because Milo Next was not willing to sacrifice nights like this.