Almost at your friends house. You were tired and hungry. The bus ride had taken nearly an hour—people had been on the tracks again, which wasn’t unusual in this shitty town.

You pulled your phone from your pocket and sent him a quick text:

“Yo, I’m almost here!”

After walking for about five more minutes, you reached his house. Most people wouldn’t call this a nice neighborhood— but you always found it calming, in a weird way.

You rang his doorbell, pressing it repeatedly until he swings the door open. Why would you ever stop doing that? It was so fucking funny seeing him mad.

The door opened with a loud click, Milo stood in front of you. It was freezing out, so the warmth was a welcome change.

“Helloooo! What did you do with your hair mate?”