prodigalscnsâ:
MILES SHOULD HAVE ALWAYS SEEN THIS FOR WHAT IT WAS. He lived for the smile that Fish was currently wearing. He could, he probably would, write a thousand songs in its name, and yet he still lived in the clueless world of oblivious wonder, somehow. The arm around his shoulder was typical, par for the course. Actually, the only thing that was miss was the one greeting they usually shared, then excused away later. For now, he wouldnât say anything. Instead, he watched this play out, an amusement sort of snort given to the question about sheer number. Perhaps, it was a pang of shame. âYouâre asking that as if Iâve ever passed a proper math class. If I had to guess? At least three fifty.â
There were a thousand thing Miles Atala could think of that were worth it, sure, but none of them would ever hold a candle to Fish. He deserved to be wooed, probably be someone who actually knew how to express their emotions properly, but that didnât matter. The mere thought of someone else having access to all the tiny, intimate moments they shared in passing, caused a pain in his chest. It didnât last long, the squeeze at his shoulders bringing him out of it.
To keep his hands busy, and sufficiently off his room mate, he too was picking up a slice. A bite taken from the pizza before heâs laughing at the answer heâs given. âJokes on you, I was going to have dinner with you either way. Just please, try not to stare at me too much. The candle light does wonders for my features.â HES BEING DRAMATIC NOW, INCLUDING AN OBVIOUS FAKE FLIP OF HIS HAIR.
âItâs gonna be a pain in the ass to put them all out,â he commented, still taken aback by the sheer amount of work that had gone into such a fleeting gesture. Putting down his pizza, he picked one up off the counter and held it at eye level. The flame was so beautiful, itâs intensity flickering in and out but never fading completely. He could understand why there were so many songs written about candles and romance, they made things seem softer - less solid and imposing without overhead lighting.
 Acting on impulse, he did something heâd wanted to do since he was a kid - licking two of his fingers and snuffing out the flame between them. It was less satisfying than he thought itâd be and he set it back down in front of him without another thought. âYou do look good, devilishly handsome.â his smile returned full force, Fish letting his eyes wander appreciatively over Milesâ familiar features under the guise of a joke. Â
âMaybe we should just leave it like this all the time.âÂ











