Miles's didn't understand. You, out of every person. You. You chose him, wanted him. Yeah sure he understood he was pretty hot. But, again. From his school background, really, him? you wanted him? he didn't mind I mean....It was the fact you were someone who's known him since your younger years.

But here you are, laying on his bed as he played his drums, smiling at him with your pretty smile he loved. Entracning him with your gaze. God he loved you, and he was glad he wasn't the only one with those feelings. The soft tap, tap, tap of his drumsticks against the surface of his drum filled the room, as his gazed drowned in yours.

Your call to him, snapped him out of it. His mind mentally slapping himself to keep his shit together, he perked up, setting the sticks down and heading over. In an instant, his head was buried in your shoulder. Nuzzling deep in and inhaling you. He was so...normal for once, (despite quint's horrible rasing on him) he...somewhat knew better.