Jasper
MILO WAS UP to something, though I wasn’t sure what. He’d been moving around the living room with all the grace of an elephant, making it impossible to sleep in. I hoped he slept better than I did after taking up all the space on my mattress that definitely wasn’t built for two.
There wasn’t any way for me to deny him when he came into my room the way he did.
He looked so pathetic standing in the doorway, and I still wasn’t sure how to take away his suffering.
When we were younger, he used to barge into my space all the time, sharing every little thought that crossed his mind, and I missed it enough that I couldn’t be bothered to scold him about the lack of privacy.
I grabbed my glasses from the nightstand and sat upright, slipping them on before rummaging through the garbage bag of clothes that I’d brought and hadn’t gotten around to sorting. We’d have to make a few more trips, but for the most part, I was moved in. I didn’t need much.
Finally investigating the source of all the noise after getting changed, I couldn’t help but cock an eyebrow at what I saw. Milo had his arms full of video games, pulling them off the shelves around the television.
“What the hell are you doing?” I asked.
“There’s no space in your room,” Milo explained, a few games spilling out of his arms onto the carpet. “So I’m going to put my video games somewhere else, and you can put books here.”
“Where?” I frowned.
“I dunno,” he confessed sheepishly.
Seriously, he did everything on impulse. I looked around the sparsely decorated apartment, trying to figure out where he thought he would go with a lifetime collection of games.
“You don’t have to do that,” I reasoned, leaning against the wall. “I can leave most of them at Mom’s.”
“But then you’ll go back there more often.”
He looked down at his arms, his bottom lip puffing out.
It was nearly the end of me. Seeing him standing there pouting with the best intentions made my heart ache with a longing I had no business feeling, and I wondered if he knew just how fucking adorable that shit really was.
Though if he thought the two shelves on either side of the TV would be enough for my collection, he was sorely mistaken.
“You realize I could fill up two whole bookcases, right?” I smirked.
“I know that,” he said dejectedly.
We worked together in silence, putting all of his games back where they belonged.
“I’ll bring all my books over, and they can sit in boxes until I bring more shelving,” I offered. “Does that sound good?”
“I guess.” He was still pouting.
“You don’t have to do anything,” I assured him, patting his back. “We’ll get it done. Give me a few weeks to move things over between school and work.”
“Okay, okay.”
His phone chime went off, and he pulled it out from his pocket to check whatever notification he’d received. I didn’t think his complexion could get any paler than it was, but I was wrong. I watched his face closely, knowing that if I didn’t say anything, he would eventually.
Except for once, he didn’t. He tilted his phone secretively instead, and irritation sparked in my chest. I didn’t want to sound too interested. I’d much rather have him come to me naturally, but after another moment ticked by and he still hadn’t said anything, I was forced to pry.
“You okay?” I kept it casual.
“Yep.”
Yep? My fucking ass.
I ruminated over how to coax the information out of him without seeming too overbearing when he had been so delicate lately, afraid anything I did might trigger him and only widen the distance between us that I’d been working so hard to close.
“Milo,” I said, a little too harshly.
He flinched.
“Sofia unblocked my number.”
“Okay.” My jaw ticked, and I folded my arms. “And?”
“She forgot some things here, I guess. She wants to come get them.”
My first instinct was to take control of the situation and tell him absolutely fucking not. The thought of her invading what was now our space threatened to unravel me, and I could feel myself grasping for straws to keep my composure.
Milo was the type to beg, scream, and cry. He’d never had a bone in his body that knew how to let go, and if he didn’t go no contact, he would drive himself into the dirt trying to keep someone in his life—even if they didn’t deserve him.
Sofia should have kept his number blocked and cut her fucking losses. If she showed up, it would undo all of Milo’s healing progress, and I wasn’t about to let that happen.
“I can take care of it,” I offered coolly, holding my hand out, palm up.
Milo didn’t budge, his phone clenched tightly in his hands. He looked between me and the phone, trying to decide whether or not to listen, and I hoped, for his sake, he’d choose right.
“I’ll be okay. I can do it myself.”
Of-fucking-course he’d choose wrong.
“No, you can’t,” I snapped.
I didn’t want him to feel incapable, but his latest flirtation with death had left me desperate, and every poor decision he made was a testimony to the way I kept failing him when he needed me most.
“I’m over it, really. I can handle this.”
“Don’t act like you won’t start begging her for another chance the moment she steps through the fucking door, Milo.” I crowded his space and wrapped my hand over his phone, trying and failing miserably to dial back the show of my unease.
“I wouldn’t,” he said so quietly that it almost went unheard.
My edge was justified by the defeated slump of his shoulders and the way he avoided my gaze, eyes darting around the room in search of an escape. But there was none. We both knew I was right.
“You’re not enough of an asshole to do this.”
He wasn’t, but I was.
“Tell her she can come, and I’ll meet her at the door with her things,” I ordered. “You will stay in your room.”
I needed him to let me have this more than he would ever know. I wanted redemption for the way I hadn’t been able to protect him when we were kids. Things were different now; I could shield him from something like this. I could make it right.
He just had to let me.
“Fuck—fine.” He sniffled, yanking his hand away from mine and going out onto the balcony with his phone. “You’re such a dick.”
I watched him light up a cigarette and tap away on his screen. I wouldn’t let myself feel bad for being the strong one when he couldn’t be, not when the stakes were so high. If I left him to deal with Sofia, there was a chance that they’d work things out, and I’d be left behind.
He couldn’t get swallowed up by someone else again, not when I was just getting him back.
I still hadn’t moved from my spot when Milo came back inside, too caught up in my thoughts. Knowing him, his texts probably weren’t as direct as I would’ve liked. It should have started and stopped at confirming she could come pick up her things, but that was wishful thinking.
“So?” I stuffed my hands into my pockets.
“She’s coming right now.” He radiated nervous energy.
I was pulled to that energy, my feet carrying me closer to him with purpose. He shrank away, but didn’t stop me from patting his head and making a mess of his loose curls. I needed to know that he was still here, with me.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m good at these things. I’ll take care of it, I promise.”
“Okay.”
“Go put her shit in a box and leave it by the door.” I dropped my hand to his shoulder, giving him a nudge.
He nodded listlessly, padding toward his room.
I compartmentalized my own raging fears, which had nothing to do with confrontation and everything to do with the thought of Milo getting hurt—or worse—losing him to a girl who didn’t deserve him if they reconciled.
I couldn’t stand that he’d still probably take her back if it meant not being alone.
He wasn’t alone.
I was right fucking here.
The last time I’d felt this level of desperation was when Milo had wanted to introduce me to his closest childhood friend.
Given how he’d idolized him, I was terrified I’d be replaced, scared of whatever made him so much better than me.
That fear never materialized after we met, because Milo’s friend ended up moving away, and our little bubble remained intact.
I knew he was on the cusp of spiralling, if he wasn’t already. That clocked-out look in his eyes never slipped past me, and it only further proved that I was doing the right thing, saving him from more emotional damage.
If Sofia knew I was at the apartment, she would never show up.
She didn’t particularly like me, and rightfully so.
I always made a point of making it hard for his partners to get my approval, and of course, none of them ever did.
The math around it was simple: if they couldn’t handle me, they couldn’t handle him.
They couldn’t have him.
Milo needed a certain type of person to meet his needs.
He needed someone who could handle his mood swings, someone tender enough to bring him down from every high, and yet strong enough to pull him out of every low.
A person who could see the beauty in all of the broken pieces and love him unconditionally, even when he might turn on them and try to bite.
Someone who wouldn’t go anywhere, no matter what he threw at them.
Someone like me.