Butterflies

Chapter Eleven

"Isabelle? You alright?" I blink a couple of times, and laugh awkwardly. "Sorry, you just looked like someone else I knew. Wait, how do you know my name?" I know this man, that's for sure. I ran into him that day when Mama Hazel convinced me to work here.

"Oh, wait, Blake right?" He laughs softly, and nods his head. "You were ok the other night right? You were pretty hammered, and then just disappeared." Oh, that's right. It finally clicks that I saw him on my birthday.

It's a really faint memory that sweeps over my vision of us re introducing ourselves. "Right, sorry, I was out of it, but I–" My voice gets abruptly cut off as I feel another presence behind me. Warmth against my back. "She was perfectly fine." A voice grumbles from behind.

Milo's voice. I look back at him, giving him a quick 'what the freak?' look, before turning back around to Blake. The thing that confuses me even more is that he's semi glaring at the man behind me.

They seem to be having some silent conversation when I step forward, more or so that I wasn't feeling the warmth Milo was emitting onto me. "Can I get you anything?" He looks back at me, smiles, and nods his head. "Yeah, I'll have–" I huff out a breath of air when my body is jolted quickly.

I don't even have time to process what's happening because I'm being shoved into the back room. I only see the smallest bit of Milo's face as he walks back out to Blake.

I stare, in both shock and confusion. How the heck did he just get me back here, and why did he put me back here? I groan out in annoyance and start stomping out the swinging doors when they swing open on their own.

I run straight into Milo's chest, but don't bounce off. I just stand there, breathing heavily as does he. His eyebrows are once again furrowed, and it looks as if he has an expression of pain on his face.

The doors are clearly open to the world to see us standing in between them, but I can't move. I can't physically get my feet to cooperate with my brain.

Either Milo get's this, or he just wants me to move but he starts moving forward, causing me to walk backwards so that I don't fall. He only stops when we hear the doors behind him swing shut.

The little noise that was being made out in the other room is now replaced with a deafening silence. It's silent, yet so many thoughts and words are being spoken through the air.

"What the heck was that for? You just push me away from my job and start talking for me to an actually nice guy who is possibly my friend? Are you trying to ruin my life?" My words hang in the air for seconds after with him just staring at me.

It takes me a minute for my words to catch up with my brain–and boy do they–which then has me clamping a hand around my mouth, eyes wide. "Oh gosh, I'm sorry. That was so mean–"

"Stop, talking."  Milo sighs, no anger at all in his voice. "It's fine, you don't have to apologize, but that dude is a prick and whether you like it or not, I know him better than you; therefore, I get to say what type of person he is." I just blink at him, not believing one word coming out of his mouth.

"Milo, he's done nothing but be nice to me." Except for the weird, bad gut feelings I get when I'm only around him, and the sense of an eerie remembrance. I leave that part out though. "You're going to listen to me when I tell you to stay away from him." My eyebrows shoot up at his command, and then drop into a glare.