timourous
adjective | TIM - uh - rus | meaning - expressing or suggesting timidity; fearful
15; Miles Argent's Day Off
Miles Argent was not going to school today.
When his alarm went off, he woke up with three hours of sleep and a very bruised body. He definitively decided that nobody was going to be able to make him go to high school. If his aunt and uncle had a problem with that, well that sucked for them.
The young hunter was almost back asleep when a soft knock came from his door. Miles let out a groan that was a healthy mixture of both pain and annoyance, which apparently meant come in.
Miles cracked open an eye just in time to see his younger cousin pop her head past his previously closed door. She gave Miles a gentle smile, which Miles responded to by closing his eye once again.
"Mom and dad are, um, wondering why you haven't gotten up yet," Allison said softly.
Miles grabbed the covers of his bed and pulled them up to his ears, cocooning himself into the bed as if to signal that that was how he planned to stay for the next several hours. "I'm not going to school today," He grumbled, just in case that wasn't already cleared.
Allison tiptoed into further into the room. Miles didn't need to open his eyes to know what was going on. He may not have been a supernatural creature, but his senses were still finely honed after years of training. Just by listening alone, Miles could identify that she had once again closed his door, moved across his room, and was now fumbling with his closed curtains.
Just as Miles was about to give a half-hearted threat if she opened the curtains, sunlight burst through the little crack Allison had made. The yellow light was miserably bright as it danced around the room.
Miles still groggily tumbled through the threat, but it was practically incoherent as Miles pulled his pillow over his face to shield himself from the light. Allison knew better then to take the threats Miles made when he was half-asleep too seriously, and instead rolled her eyes at the other hunter.
"My dad said I couldn't take no for an answer," Allison explained. "And my mom said skipping school because you don't feel like going is a gateway habit to becoming a deviant, or something like that."
"I'm not going," Miles reiterated.
Allison nodded even though she knew Miles couldn't currently see her. "Yeah, I also told them you weren't going to change you mind," She sighed. "So then my dad said that you shouldn't expect to make a habit of this. Staying home today is going to be a one time ordeal and will only happen again if you're, like, missing a limb or something."
The pillow lifted up just enough for Miles to peak out from under that. His face had the exact scowl Allison had imagined he would have when she'd been working up the courage to knock on his door.
"Rodger that," Miles muttered, his scowl not wavering for a second.
Allison nodded, and this times Miles actually saw it. "Cool. Okay. Um, I can pick up your work from your classes today, if you want."
Miles released the pillow so it fell softly over his face again. "I absolutely do not want."
With a sigh, Allison decided it was best not to argue with him right now. Even if she didn't agree with him getting even further behind then he already was by not getting the work he missed, she knew this wasn't a battle she could possibly win.
And she really wasn't in a position where she wanted to be on Miles bad side. Or was she already on Miles' bad side? Allison honestly had no clue. With that final thought, she tiptoed back out.
Throughout the day, Miles had been in and out of sleep. He'd only left his room twice; earlier to go downstairs to train (which had led to Miles' already aching body to feel like it was on fire) and now so that he could shower. Miles had mastered the art of four minute showers and had quickly gotten back to his room before he had to have any type of social interaction.
Or so he thought.
When Miles got back to his room, he opened the door with a frown as he realized that the lights were on when he was absolutely positive he had turned him off. Miles quickly figured out why they were on, though, when his eyes landed Lydia Martin, who was sitting at the foot of his bed next to a small pile of papers.
Miles sighed as he eyed the papers. "Tell me those aren't what I think they are," He grumbled.
Lydia didn't answer him immediately. Instead, The strawberry blonde gave him a curious look, eyeing him up and down and leaving Miles a little too aware of the fact that he was only half dressed. Clearing his throat in hopes of masking his discomfort, Miles ran a hand through his hair, hoping to free the dark strands from the remaining water droplets. Lydia pursed her lips, but didn't even attempt to look away from the freshly-showered hunter.
"As your tutor, I wasn't going to let you miss school and then not do your makeup work," Lydia finally stated.
Miles saw her point, but he also absolutely hated it.
Instead of responding, the boy turned to his closet, rifling through it until he found a jacket he could slip on. When he turned back to Lydia, he was greeted by her green eyes, watching him carefully as he zipped up his jacket. There were about two dozen scars on his body that he didn't know how to explain, not to mention the ugly bruise that covered most of his back and painted most of his left side hideous shades of blue and purple.
Once Miles half-zipped the jacket, he shoved his hands in it's pockets and awaited the girls questions as he began preparing a few of his own.
"You have tattoos," Lydia noted. Now that wasn't what he was expecting her to focus on. He hardly gave the tattoos that scattered across his body any thought. "What do they mean?" Lydia asked.
Miles followed her gave to a particular strand of black ink that peek out on his chest from under the jacket. He shrugged. "They mean I was bored and alone. So, tattoos."
Lydia frowned, apparently not impressed with his answer.
"I haven't seen Allison come home yet, so if you're looking to hang out with her you're out of luck," Miles told Lydia. He was ready for the subject to change, because in all honesty he really didn't have any better explanation for the black ink that was sprawled across his skin.
"I'm not here to hang out," Lydia snapped, her voice shockingly sharp. It seemed as though her words were supposed to ensnare Miles' attention, as if it were possible for him not to have had his full attention on her already. Lydia's eyes finally fell away from Miles, who realized how tender her expression had gotten. Lydia's lips formed a tight line as she continued, "I'm here to talk to someone, because I'm tired of no one talking to me about what the hell is going on."
Miles stepped forward. He was at a loss for words, but desperately wanted to offer her some semblance of comfort.
"Lyd-"
Before he could even finish saying her name, Lydia shook her head to cut him off. "If you're going to feed me some vague truth like Allison, then save it. I'd rather be home alone then treated like a dumb damsel in distress."
Miles was now even more unsure about how he was supposed to respond. His years of living in isolation, far away from most people had not left him prepared for this situation. Miles was, however, a firm beleiver of the idea that actions spoke louder then words, and he hoped his instincts led him to taking proper action.
The bedroom wasn't very large, but Miles still took a few slow steps to close the distance between him and the girl sitting on his bed. When he was infront of her, he knelt down so they could be at eye level.
At least, they should've been at eye level, but the fact that Lydia's glassy eyes refused to look in his direction was undermining the gesture he was hoping would come across as gentle and kind. However, those were two words that did not describe Miles Argent, so he was could totally be missing his mark here and be coming off as weird and creepy instead.
Still, Miles took a chance and put himself out on the limb, which again wasn't something he was used to doing. But seeing how fragile Lydia was, how desperate she was to be heard and understood, he felt as if he owed it to her to try to be a normal guy for at least a few minutes longer.
"Lydia," Miles called softly. Lydia responded by closing her eyes, as if she thought she could trap her tears inside. Miles had already seen the water gathering in her eyes, and whether or not Lydia let it spill, she couldn't hide how distraught she was from him and better then Miles could hide how hard he was trying to be a good guy from her in this moment. It seemed as if these two teenagers were at a stand still with emotions that were entirely new to each of them.
Miles thought about trying to say her name again, or saying anything else, but he didn't quite have the emotional range to express how much he hated seeing her so heartbroken. The feeling of hopelessly wanting to console someone was completely foreign to him, and yet it was something he found himself struggling with everytime he was with Lydia.
Eventually, Miles decided on his next course of action. It was something that was terribly unusual for him to do, but in the moment felt like the only thing he could do.
Gently, Miles reached out to Lydia. He moved slowly, half-expecting her to come to her senses and storm out of his room or something. But when she didn't do that, Miles Argent realized that he had committed to doing whatever it took to help Lydia, and that terrified him. While fear wasn't something Miles Argent was used to feeling, he also didn't shy away from it. That just wasn't in his nature.
After moving in what felt like slow motion, Miles gently touched his hand to Lydia's cheek. His hand could've probably enveloped her entire face if he'd let it, but Miles tried his best to be as Un-Miles as possible -- which meant he was making an attempt at being small and not-menacing.
It was a new feat for him, but he managed to use the tips of his fingers in a feather-light touch to turn her face to look at his. As he did, Lydia allowed her eyes to slowly open. They were still watery, but looked less distraught and more expectant as she awaited Miles' next move.
"Lydia," He repeated. His voice somehow managed to be just as gentle as his touch. Miles surprised even himself with what he said next. "There are things that I can't tell you, but it's not because I don't think you're smart enough to understand them, or even too scared to handle it. I can't tell you because you're too damn good. The things that I've seen, they're fucked up. And you don't deserve to be dragged down. I'm not going to let you get dragged down, okay?"
For a moment, Lydia looked like she wanted to protest, to demand answers. But then she saw the sincerity in his eyes, which were only able to hold a fraction of Miles' need to keep her safe, and she decided that for right now his answer was good enough.
Miles was glad she decided not to demand more from him because he honestly didn't think he had it in him to come up with a lie. What he had already said was the complete truth, anyways. He fully and completely believed that Lydia Martin was too good for the messed up hell that he has always had no choice but to be a part of. If he could keep her from being a part of the supernatural world, then he would move heaven and hell to do so.
Neither Miles nor Lydia realized how much weight she allowed to rest in his palm until Miles finally retracted his hand and caused Lydia to unconsciously leaned closer. Miles didn't know what to make of this, so he moved away and stood back up.
Lydia remained sitting on his bed, not seeming like she had plans to move any time soon. Her eyes flitted upwards as she waited to see what Miles was going to do next.
"So," Miles started, his voice a strange cross between gruff and confused. In dire need of moving something to try to get the sudden anxious energy out of his body, Miles once again ran his hand through his still damp hair. "Did you, um, just come here to drop off the work I missed, or do you have some time to help me figure it out."
Lydia cocked her head to the side ever so slightly and as her hair consequently fell away from her face, Miles was able to catch an amused glint in her eyes. He was relieved to see that the pain that had possessed them before was just a memory for now.
"That's funny," Lydia noted. Now a smile ghosted her glossy lips and Miles felt pride bubbling up in his stomach for being the cause of it. "As if you'd do the work if I left," Lydia scoffed.
She really is smart, Miles thought when he registered Lydia's remark. Well, okay, it didn't take a genius to know that Miles wasn't exactly the poster child for being studious, but the fact that that she had the guts to call him out on it? That was something.
Miles couldn't help it, he let out a deep rumble that he realized a moment to late was actually a chuckle. It wasn't an action he was used to doing and he thought it sounded strange.
Lydia, however, was amused by the sound. Her ghost of a grin was resurrected into a smirk.
Shaking his head as if that would get rid of the sudden embarrassment he felt, Miles moved to sit at the head of his bed. Fluffing up his pillow to support himself comfortably, he leaned back and watched as Lydia turned to him, her smirk not quite fading.
Lydia positioned herself so that she was a little closer to Miles, crossed her legs so that she could sit comfortably, and then handed him the pile of papers. The hunter bit back a groan as he took the papers. Somehow, they seemed to double in size since he'd first spared them a glance. It was going to take him ages to get through all of the work, but it didn't seem like Lydia planned on going anywhere for a while.
It felt it took half a lifetime to get through all the work Miles has missed, along with having Lydia teach him all the stuff he simply never learned, but neither teenager seemed to mind. After page after page of what Miles considered to be something akin to torture (which he knew a fair bit about) Lydia finally handed him the last packet of work that she had collected for him. Miles still wasn't sure how she'd known which classes he had, but he didn't really feel like he needed the answer.
"I'm assuming this is something you don't need help with?" Lydia asked.
Miles looked at the paper and quickly realized it was from his French class. "I think this is the one thing that I can actually understand," he sighed. Despite taking a day to stay home a rest, Miles somehow looked more tired then he had before. It seemed as though being a high schooler took a bigger toll on him then being a hunter of the supernatural.
Miles had a pretty high pain tolerance. After both learning hand-to-hand combat from his father and Kate, who never tried to pull their punches, and being thrown at supernatural animals at a young age, he grew fairly accustomed to taking a hit or ignoring his body when it ached. However, there were some natural reaction that he couldn't control.
The way he shuttered ever so slightly as he reached to take the papers from Lydia was one of these natural reactions. Miles didn't even notice he had done so, the dull throb coming from his chest was nothing but an after thought to the boy. Lydia, however, immediately noticed. She didn't say anything as Miles took the papers, but she did watch him carefully, scanning him for any other signs that he was in pain. He did a good job hiding it, if he was.
Lydia had been keeping about half a dozen questions at bay since Miles had walked into the room shirtless, but eventually she couldn't help herself any more.
"How did you hurt yourself?"
Miles, who had been halfway through translating his French assignment, gave Lydia a half-shocked look. Then he remembered that no matter how hard he tried to not react to any pain, she had seen the injury already.
It took a while for Miles to try to put together an explanation. He quickly realized he didn't have one that wouldn't lead to more questions, though, so he opted to just look down. His eyebrows furrowed into a look that matched his expression when he was trying to do statistics earlier, which was a topic that made just about as much sense to him as carrying a conversation with other people did.
When Lydia noticed the expression on his face, she realized she wasn't going to be getting any answers that she would find satisfying.
"If you're not going to tell me, can I at least see it?" Lydia pondered. She didn't have any medical advice to offer towards tending the wound, but she did want to get a better look at the wound. She was curious to see if it was as bad as it had looked when she'd caught a glimpse earlier. However, she noticed Miles' hesitation, and added, "But if you're self conscious about your body, you don't have to show me."
"I'm not self conscious about my body," Miles mumbled in a voice that did nothing to convince Lydia that his words were true.
Despite his response, Miles still didn't move to expose the injured patch of skin. His mind flashed back to the scars that raced all over his body. Even if he only showed her his latest injury, she would also catch a glimpse of at least three other battle wounds that were permanently marked on his body. His dad had always told him that should wear his scars like badges of honor because they were proof that he had won yet another fight. However, Miles had never been able to shake the feeling that those hideous scars were what connected him to the very creatures that he hunted, that he was supposed to despise.
Miles looked up at Lydia. When her eyes managed to catch his, he couldn't look away. She looked at him in a way that felt foreign to him. She looked so patient, so intently at him that Miles felt like he was actually being seen for the first time, and soon Miles was moving without thinking. Sitting up as straight as he could, he pulled up the bottom of his shirt just enough for Lydia to see the bruises.
Miles didn't have to look down to know the sight was rather horrific. He had deduced last night that he had, at the very least, fractures two ribs. The skin was surely different variations of blue and purple, possibly even black. It was anything but a pretty sight.
Surprisingly, Lydia didn't flinch at the sight. In fact, her expression didn't really change at all. Instead, it was Lydia's turn to reach out towards Miles, and all he could do was watch. Gingerly, her fingers danced around the outline of the bruise. As if it were second nature to him, Miles easily resisted the urge to flinch as she did so.
For a moment, Miles just watched as Lydia studied his injury. She didn't pay any attention to the scars around it, and Miles couldn't figure what he should make of that. He couldn't really figure anything out, his mind just felt cloudy. For the first time in his life Miles wasn't completely in touch with all of his senses and instead was lost in the moment. Miles didn't know how to feel about the sensation.
The room was silent. The air was suddenly very heavy. Miles' eyes began to wonder from watching Lydia trace the bruise and moved up her arm until he was actually looking at Lydia. She was closer then he had realized, and somehow Miles' mind got even hazier.
Lydia looked up as if she could sense Miles' lingering gaze. He couldn't blame her, he wasn't exactly being subtle.
Miles wasn't sure who started moving towards who, he just knew that the already small gap between the two of them was suddenly closing. Miles watched as Lydia's eyes fluttered closed and suddenly all the emotions he had ever deprived himself of feeling were exploding in his brain. Just as quickly as the tender moment had begun, it was ending with Miles jumping at Lydia's fingers on his skin.
Looking down, Miles eyes looked at any part of his room that didn't include the girl sitting on his bed next to him. There were nearly a hundred different feelings raging in his gut, but the predominant one was guilt. He felt guilty for all the secrets he'd been keeping, for the way he failed to ever be what anyone needed other then a weapon, for the way he wasn't even the perfect soldier he was supposed to be. Most importantly, he felt guilty for the way Lydia made him feel.
He could feel Lydia's gaze burning into him but Miles couldn't bare looking at her face. He knew if he did so the guilty in his gut would just double in size. This was a pain he wasn't prepared to ignore.
Lydia was suddenly standing. Miles still couldn't look at her.
"If-if we're done here then I'm going to go see if Allison is home yet," Lydia said. Her words were spoken with a firm quiver.
Miles had nothing to say. It was awful. Lydia continued to look at him expectantly, waiting for him to stop her, but he didn't. After giving him what she considered to be ample time to say anything at all and explain what the hell had just happened, she let out an annoyed sigh and turned on her heels. In no time at all, Miles was alone in his room, which suddenly felt ten degrees colder.
Not knowing what else to do, Miles fell back onto his bed. His body sprawled out, and his long and aching limbs felt the tiniest bit of relief at being able to stretch. Miles reached out and blindly grabbed for a pillow to pull in front of him. Closing his eyes, Miles ended the day exactly how he had started it, confused, exasperated, and with a pillow covering his face in an attempt to block out the rest of the world.
Lydia Martin has found a tiny crevice in Miles Argent's heartless-hunter façade and without trying, she had wedged herself into it until the crevice had become a giant gaping canyon. She made Miles question himself in ways no one would've expected from boy who had never before wavered from his cause, and Lydia didn't even realize that she'd had this effect on the boy.
To be honest, Miles hadn't fully realize it either, and he sure as hell didn't understand it. The only thing he was sure about, though, was that having these emotions were going to get him killed.
here is a meme that literally no one asked for but basically sums up miles' mood for this entire chapter :
miles argent ; I am stone cold. nothing bothers me. I am Tough and I care about Nothing. it's either kill or be killed and im still alive so you know what that means fuckers.
also miles argent, after calls him out for something ; teehee I luv u
but real talk, I hope you enjoyed that?? im not good at angst and I was trying to convey so many emotions that I genuinely don't know how to explain so I hope it made sense lmao. and not to sound like a broken record, but please let me know what youre thinking about miles and Lydia so far!