Swooped | ✓

Chapter 34: When Doves Cry

"Milo..." I whispered, my voice a broken, frail thing that made Milo shudder, his arms gathering all the fractured pieces of me closer and closer, trying to hold me together.

"I'm here, C," Milo said against my hair, fingers tickling my scalp. "I'm here."

"You left," I said, voice eerily calm as I began to slow my breaths, inhaling Milo's scent deeply. His T-shirt was soft, and I nuzzled my head into it, hands moving to fist the fabric of his shirt. 

"Only to get us food," Milo said firmly, cradling the back of my head tenderly like I was glass. "I didn't think you would wake up while I was gone."

"I woke up and you weren't here," I said, finger tightening in Milo's shirt, before scrambling up and around to dig into his back. I felt Milo's sharp intake of breath against my face as my fingers clawed into him, and it probably hurt, but everything hurts. 

"I know," Milo murmured, stroking my head softly, pressing a kiss to it again. "But I'm here now. I'm here, C."

"I'm scared," I said slowly, tilting my head up to look at Milo, who was already staring down at me with an expression of determination, fear and love all stirred together. His expression made my heart clench, the shattered organ bleeding through the fractured pieces of me once again. I was sure it was bleeding all over Milo, staining him and dirtying him and I knew I should push him away before I ruin him, and he ruins me, because that's what's going to happen.

That's what always happens.

"There's something wrong with me," I whimpered, shaking my head. "Milo, there's something wrong and I-"

"Please don't say that," Milo said, voice cracking as he moved his hands to cup my face. "There's nothing wrong with you, there's never been anything wrong with you, okay? I think... I think you may have some kind of... mental illness, C, but that doesn't mean that something is wrong with you. We can figure it out, together, okay? So please don't say that there's something wrong with y-"

"Then why does everyone leave me?!" I yelled, scuttling back from Milo, my boyfriend flinching when I pushed myself from him. I gathered my blanket up in my shaking hands, pulling it around me, as if the fabric could shield me from everything that hurts. "It's because I'm crazy, right?! Because there's something fucked up in my head, something that-"

"You're not crazy-"

"You just said that I was!" I screamed, lips pulling back from my teeth as I snarled. My head was so loud, all blurry with red and dark and I pulled at my long hair. "You can't fucking lie to me, or deceive me! You all think I'm fucking crazy because my head is a- a fucking mess and that's why you're going to leave me too, right?!"

"I didn't say that you were crazy, C," Milo said, voice pained as he reached forward, and I growled, pushing his hands away roughly. 

"Don't touch me!" I spat, glaring at Milo, who looked at me with wide eyes, mouth parted in shock. "You... You don't get to touch me since you're just going to leave! You know what? Why don't you just go!" I said, laughing wildly, the sound grating and harsh, devoid of any amusement. "Do it! Leave! Go to... to MIT, like I know you wanted to! You got in once, you can do it again! So just get the fuck out like I know you will!" 

I threw whatever I could grab from the bed and around it, throwing it at Milo. The first thing I threw - a pillow - hit his face in his frozen stupor, but when he registered what was happening he pushed it to the side, rising up onto his knees on the bed to try and get closer to me, face scrunched up with pain. 

"Get out!" I shouted, grabbing the other pillow and throwing it at Milo, who caught it this time, placing it down beside him gently. "Fuck off! Get the fuck out! Leave me like you want to!"

"I'm not leaving, C," Milo said, voice slow, calm despite an undercurrent of roughness. "And... And I don't want to go to MIT. I want to stay with you. I'm not going to leave."

"You will! I know you will!" I cried, crawling up my bed to grab something from my desk - a comic book - and throwing it at Milo. He didn't stop looking me with the calm, determined mask on his race, unrelenting as he simply swatted the projectile onto the ground. 

"I won't," Milo said again, shaking his head firmly. His voice was calmer now, barely a shake or a hitch in his words as he shuffled closer to the hurricane that surrounded me. 

"Liar!" I yelled, throwing whatever I could get my hands on, Milo wincing a little as some of the things hit arms as he shielded his head, or thudded against his broad chest. "Just leave me!"

"I won't," Milo reiterated, grabbing my wrists in a firm yet gentle grasp, stopping me from throwing my heavy laptop charger at him. I struggled weakly against his arms, the heat from his touch making me melt, draining me. 

"Let go of me," I said, voice breaking.

"I won't," Milo said again, the charger dropping from my hands with a thud on the ground. "I won't leave you either."

"You're lying," I said quietly, Milo giving me a small smile with a shake of his head. He tugged on my wrists, my pliant body collapsing forwards into his chest once again, slotting right in like the space was made for me.

"I'm not, just let me prove it to you, C. That I won't leave you," Milo said gently, pressing his promises into my skin as he cradled me in his embrace. "But you probably don't believe me, not right now, but I'll prove it to you. Because I love you. So much. Gott, so fucking much."

Milo was right, as he most often was. I didn't believe him, not completely, wholly, unwaveringly. 

But, in his arms, the haze began to clear and maybe, just maybe - because definitely was only a faraway dream - I would be alright. Maybe it would be alright if I let my dirty heart bleed all over him and stain him to the core, because he was someone that didn't mind. Maybe he would wear my colours when no one else could, and maybe paint me in his own.

Because the colours of Milo's heart were beautiful and rich, and I would give anything to drown in them forever.

A/N: As always, thank you for reading darlings x