Zacharias watched the dagger disappear without so much as a blink, but the corner of his mouth twitched at the comment.
“Let’s not,” he said dryly, though there was the faintest hint of a smirk threatening to break through. “I’ve had quite enough near-death experiences for one lifetime. Don’t feel the need to add ‘impaled by enthusiastic shopkeeper’ to the list.”
But he didn’t interrupt otherwise. He listened.
And that, more than anything, gave him away.
Most skeptics would’ve scoffed, laughed it off, walked out. Zacharias stayed exactly where he was—still, attentive, eyes fixed on Milo like he was weighing every word.
At “one heck of a magical fuck”, his brow lifted.
“…Charming,” he muttered, though not entirely displeased.
When Milo cut through the act completely, Zacharias exhaled a quiet breath through his nose—something like relief slipping through the cracks of his usual guarded demeanor.
“Good,” he said. “Because the cryptic nonsense gets exhausting quickly.”
He straightened a little as Milo held out his hand, gaze flicking down to it briefly before returning to his face.
“Across the pond, yeah,” Zacharias replied. “And if you call it ‘the State’ again, I’m going to assume you’re doing it just to irritate me.”
A beat—then he reached out and took Milo’s hand, his grip firm but brief.
He let go, stepping back just enough to reestablish his space, but he didn’t disengage. If anything, he looked more settled now—like he’d decided Milo was worth the time.
“And for the record,” Zacharias added, folding his arms again, “I wasn’t planning on announcing anything. But since you’ve already decided I’m… what was it—‘a magical fuck’—”
His eyes narrowed slightly, not hostile—just testing.
“Go on then,” he said. “Tell me what you actually see. No theatrics, no sales pitch.”
A faint tilt of his head.
“Let’s see how ‘legit’ you really are, Milo Hawkins.”
discoholicmusic
snowghoul
areudirty
turnnoffyourmind
prguitarman
ellievsbear
andulkaphoto
theartofmadeline
origamiaround
