Butterflies

Chapter Thirty Seven

The coldness of his skin, and the wetness from the rain has me shivering, but I quickly recover. The hand that was already on his face, moves back to the nape of his neck, while my other arm reaches around his waist and holds him there.

It's a strange sort of hug, more intimate than I'm used to, but with Milo it feels like nature. Everything with him just feels right.

"Everything hurts." He mutters, and shivers again like he's really in pain. My heart breaks at his words. I rub my fingers slowly, trying to comfort him while I search for the right words.

"Why?" He shakes his head, and then I feel his arms slowly slide around my back before he yanks me closer. A small gasp leaves my lips as my body begins to mold into the shape of him. "Milo." I whisper.

He shakes his head again, before groaning. "You're going to get sick if you stay in these wet clothes." I push, running my fingers up and down his spine over the material of his sweatshirt. "Why don't you take a warm shower and I'll throw your stuff in the dryer?" He doesn't respond, so I pull back just enough to lift his face up.

"Hey, you there?" I give him a warm smile, one he returns slowly, with struggle. "Do you hate me?" He whispers, his eye brows pinching together in frustration. "What–no, I don't hate you." I love you.

"But why? I'm such a bad person." I smile sadly at his hurtful comments towards himself. "Even the bad guys deserve a little love." I tell him, full confidence driving my voice. "Plus," I shrug, and give him a playful smile. "Bad people aren't always bad are they?" The question rings through my head.

Was he truly bad? The man that made my life miserable. No, we're talking about Milo. "Now, go take a shower." I back up, and point at my bathroom door. He gives me an annoyed look before sighing, and walking towards the door.

I walk over to my cracked bedroom door, and peek outside to make sure no one was woken up by Milo's presence. Jesus, how did he even get up to the second floor?

Although I shouldn't be too surprised, we used to do this all the time as kids. I turn back around, and freeze when I see Milo standing in front of me with a towel around his waist. There is no way he showered that quickly.

Then it dawns on me when I see the wet clothes he's holding. "Where do you want me to put this?" He asks, his voice back to a void of emotion like it was every time before this night. I clear my throat and draw my eyes away from the tattoos that liter his skin.

"I'll take them." I do so quickly, and rush out of the room, across the hall, and quickly throw it into the dryer. I don't enter my room again until I hear the shower turn on.

Sighing, I wake tiredly back into my room, and fall onto my bed.

___

I jerk awake when I feel the mattress shift under me. I look around, a little confused until my eyes land on Milo who was pulling a blanket over me. I sit up, and shove it away.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up." He gives me a guilty smile, to which I shrug it off. He's back in his clothes, but they're dry, and his hair is damp.

Oh god, how long did I sleep for?

I shake the tiredness away, and pat the spot beside me on the bed. He eyes it warily, before sitting slowly. "Are you going to tell me why you came here in the first place?" He sighs, showing that he knew this was coming.