The Mission: Part 6

  Miles

  Thump. Thump.

  "Has Miles told me what?" Emi's voice spat from down the stairs.

  Holding his mouth closed with a tight lip, Miles inched across the carpet to the edge of the second-floor landing. Scrrrtchh.

  If only Miles had been able to talk to Pablo about Emi. Pablo wouldn't have been a dumbass, shouting about it right in front of her, and she wouldn't be asking him now. None of it would've happened.

  The conversation was supposed to come up in a very specific order. Miles had it all planned.

  When Pablo came in he'd get overly dramatic and pretend to hurt himself, and Pablo would notice immediately that he was faking and ask about the scissors. After that, they'd talk.

  But Pablo messed the whole thing up by being an idiot. They might have been able to talk after Pablo calmed down, but by then Miles had already lost his head. Thump. Thump. Couldn't freaking think anymore. Maybe the hair combing had turned his brain to mush. It was probably for the best anyway, since Zax had been watching them from up here for who-knows how long.

  That is, if Zax was watching them at all. He never looked once at Miles. Not when he passed him, or when he hid behind him against the wall. The only reason Miles knew he hadn't fallen asleep with his eyes open was because Miles told him to get lost, and he gave him a weird thumbs up, facing the wrong direction, and then left.

  Now Pablo and Emi were both down there, ready to talk about him, and Miles was just being a freaking—

  Freaking coward.

  Thump

  "-You asked Miles if he told me something?" Emi asked again.

  Don't do it. Tug. Miles pulled at the carpet, splitting strands into small puffs.

  Pablo was bent over the counter Emi had been at, hood up so Miles could only see his back. It was hard to tell what he was doing.

  "He wanted to tell you how much it fucking sucks not knowing anything you two dumbleweeds are doing. Exact words." Pablo's voice boomed and bounced off the walls.

  Thank fuck. Miles exhaled and let his head fall to the floor in relief.

  Wait. Now Emi will think Miles had been suspicious of her, throwing out all trust between them.. Had he even told Pablo about Emi acting weird? Couldn't remember. Everything that happened on the stairs was a fog.

  Pablo was leaning on one leg, and tapping the toe of his boot on the floor with the other, elbows on the tabletop. Completely relaxed. Freaking favored. Never knew how he could do that. Not while Miles was up here with his heart still racing uncontrollably from their interaction on the stairs. Thump. Thump.

  His stomach felt tight. Sick even. Pablo's face when he told him not to hurt himself was still flashing in his memory.

  Clop. Clop. Heavy footsteps made their way through the entrance.

  "Pablo has no empathy," Garrett's voice rang up the stairs as he walked into the lobby with a barrel over his shoulder.

  At least it seemed the conversation had changed. Still didn't know how Emi felt. But, the party was about to start, and Miles was not in place. He had more to do. The most important being that he needed to check Zax's work given that he had a habit of missing things.

  When Pablo left the building, Miles made his way down the western hall. Door after door had been opened. Any valuables were swept off surfaces, and ones that didn't make the cut were scattered across the ground in true Zax fashion.

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  A nearly faded restroom sign was painted on the wall. Inside were toilets and sinks, cracked and useless, but nicer than their communal shithole. Shame it was going to get burned down.

  The hallway turned a corner to another one lit by open rooms, and where something red on the floor glowed in the light. Is that? It was... It made sense why it was here, but it pulled at his heart anyway.

  He picked up the red ribbon. It had a tight knot, and the rest of it was crumpled and folded over on itself.

  Miles carefully tucked it into his pocket, where it had been not too long ago.

  Miles held the ribbon under his nose. It smelled old.

  "Miles? Is everything okay?"

  Miles turned to meet Emi at the door, still holding the ribbon above his lips.

  Crap.

  "Hi," Miles said. The ribbon tickled his lip when he spoke. Emi seemed to be scanning the room for damage, so he quickly closed it in his hand and let his arm hang loose at his side. Looking natural. Hopefully.

  "What happened?" She asked, stopping right in front of the cabinet he had kicked down to the floor. Had to admit, she came quickly. Thought she had been too busy for him, but guess not.

  Miles crossed his arms and leaned a shoulder against a wall, feet crossed. Cold air emitted from the wall and cooled his skin through his coat.

  Emi was looking at him with a worried expression, so he raised his hand to fake cough into it, "It was nothing. The cabinet just fell." He looked to the cabinet laying sideways on the ground.

  "You're okay then?" She asked him.

  "Yeah." he answered. Which was the wrong answer because she had already turned to leave.

  Emi held the door frame and glared, "Fine. But be careful. You were really fucking loud."

  Great. That's all she had to say after coming to find him. They shouldn't be that concerned about noise in this deadzone, this far from the city with no Supra around. What was she worried about? Rubbing his fingers together, Miles almost dropped the ribbon in his hand.

  He sighed, "Emi."

  She paused in the doorway, watching him with those big doe eyes. There was nothing in her that looked hostile anymore, so Miles approached her to follow her out.

  "I'll walk you back," he told her.

  The light from the room cast shadows under her eyes, and even in the light, she looked drained. Pale. Sick or something.

  "You don't have to," she told him. Then she spun around the doorframe to head back to her place on the first floor.

  "I know." Miles quickly caught up, walking beside her to match her slower pace.

  Taking a deep breath, he turned his hand over and let the ribbon drape from his palm, keeping it still with his thumb.

  He held it out in front of her while they had light. "I found this ribbon in that room. Do you want it?"

  She barely even looked at it. "It's pretty small. I don't think I'd have a use for it." Ah. Miles lifted the ribbon by one end and let it stretch and float into the open air. It wasn't that small. It looked the same length as the ones she used to wear.

  Before when Miles offered her something, she had accepted whatever it was, even if she didn't like it. He once gave her an ugly pen that didn't work. She kept that on her bedside table for weeks before he told her it was a joke. So why.

  "Alright," Miles said. Hoping she missed the disappointment in his voice. Wanted to toss the dang ribbon on the floor and smash it for all the good it did him. Instead, he crumbled it up and shoved it into his pocket. It was all he could do. Heat had already risen to his face, and his nose was starting to get drippy, so he quickly wiped it before she noticed.

  Miles let out a sigh. It was too loud, and Emi jerked her head to look him over as though she was expecting him to say something again. It was like she knew.

  But she didn't look angry. Just had that blank stare she had sometimes when she thought she was alone.

  "You find anything good?" He finally asked her. Not what she expecting, probably, and not what he wanted to say in the least. But it was something.

  Without a beat, she reached behind her and patted her bag, "just whatever I could fit. I found a spoon."

  "Freaking favored. Is there a kitchen down there or something?"

  "Break room." Then she quickly added, "and it's mine."

  Figures. A smirk pulled at Miles's lips. It wasn't going to last long in Spring's camp. Miles found a metal spoon once and kept it hidden away, and still found Sansi using it to stir one of her weird lotions. Now it was gone. Asked everyone at camp about it. Pretty sure Garrett has it or even bent it after hearing from Trina that he had used it as a crowbar.

  "You won't share?" Miles asked, teasingly, "Not even with me?" Fuck. That sounded so—

  "Hey," Emi said.

  Miles took a few steps before realizing that Emi had stopped. A room Miles had been in earlier had lights on and lit up the hall where she stood. Holding her head down, she might have thought she was hiding her face. She wasn't. Where she chose to stand, the room brightened her features, cheeks flushing pink as well as her nose.

  "Ummm..."

  No... No No. This wasn't right. This wasn't going how it was supposed to.

  She was going to say it.

  She knew all along.

  Miles stood still, heart pounding so hard he heard the thrumming in his skull. This was it. Whatever she said next could decide everything. Whether he stayed. Whether he left. Whether he ever came back.

  "Are we okay?" Her voice stuttered.

  Are we...

  Miles swallowed and stepped toward her, mouthing her name, but nothing more. Getting closer, Emi's face was perfect. She might have had some swelling, and lines pulling at her shiny grey eyes, but the concern she wore was consuming. Emi's eyes widened. She started to step backward, trembling, but Miles might have been too. Didn't care. Whatever she had in her head–It was wrong. And right now, she was looking at Miles as though he was going to break her in half.

  "I hope we're okay," Miles said. He tried to say it in a tone that sounded more sarcastic, like, of course, they were okay, but it came out almost as shaky as her voice.

  Emi didn't seem relieved by what he said, so he held his arms open for her. When she stood there quiet, Miles waved his fingers at her and invited her in.

  Miles's heart beat faster as Emi closed the distance between them. Heating rising to his chest once she squeezed her arms behind him and tucked her head under his chin. There. That was it.

  He pulled her hood down to her shoulders, letting her hair fall. Clasping his arms around her, he pressed his hands into the small of her back the best he could through her thick outfit. She warmed him almost instantly, her soft chest squishing against him. Their arms were wrapped so tight around each other they may just never come apart.

  Miles rubbed his cheek into her wiry hair.

  "We need to talk."

  Emi didn't say anything, but Miles felt her loosen her grip on his back, and it only made him want to squeeze tighter.

  "I'm sorry."

  *** Character-specific extras included in post author's note*

  [Extra] Miles Says:

  Miles. Pablo. Emi. Cass.

  Miles. Miles. Miles.

  You ever say your name out loud and it just… doesn’t sound like your name?

  Like, I’m this whole freaking person. And “Miles” is just… a word.

  Miles this, Miles that. I know people are talking about me, but for whatever reason it feels like someone else. You know?

  I think maybe I should just change my name to “You.”

  Somehow that would feel better.

  “Hey, you.”

  And kind of hilarious during roll call.

  The more I think about it, the better it sounds.