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QUINNELY MILES ▲▼▲
↓x'''↓x'''↓x'''↓
and not every monster
has black blood or claws,
at least not the one with
my heart tied between
his paws
↑x'''↑x'''↑x'''↑
▲▼▲ I'M ONLY HUMAN
↓x'''↓x'''↓x'''↓
and not every monster
has black blood or claws,
at least not the one with
my heart tied between
his paws
↑x'''↑x'''↑x'''↑
▲▼▲ I'M ONLY HUMAN
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waking up was hell. literally, hell. more just for his head than anything. as the half-dead teen arose from his slumber, peaceful after the talk with Luka last night, his head was struck with a feeling like his skull was being crushed. he emitted a soft whimper, holding the sides of his head in his hands and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Miles waited for the pain to subside, taking short breaths as he heard his heartbeat throbbing in his ears. what a wonderful way to snap out of the nauseous part of his sickness. the pros of this morning consisted of no bellyache, no barfing, and no feeling too hot or cold or anything hair-pulling like that. the cons, well, these two invisible rocks crushing his brain. standing up was a literal pain, curses and swears hissing past his lips as he rocked to his feet. grabbing his phone, the little device had somehow managed to throw itself across the room, he checked his texts, and found nothing from Luka. with a ignorant huff, Quinn slid it into his pocket and staggered through his doorway, managing to smack his shoulder on the frame. into the bathroom, he took a quick lightheaded shower and brushed his teeth, getting dressed, straightening his wild hair. finally the tired teen clomped down the stairs ever so gracefully, resembling an undersized drunken ogre as he nearly tripped over himself on the last step. what greeted him downstairs was equally terrifying and embarrassing. the 'rents were having a discussion on an obvious topic, for Quinn only caught onto the last few sentences, "-sick as a dog, but there was clearly something else going on with the way that boy was holding our son." followed by a stern, "nothing was going on." so on and so fourth. wait, what? holding their son? they'd been close, sure, and would look a bit strange to anyone viewing the situation out of context, but still. nothing was going on between them, as his mother had stated. so she was on his side in this, that was nice to know. she was a smart women, but she hadn't been there, so Quinn didn't know why she was defending him. Miles grimaced and reached up, rubbing his temples and closing his eyes, the aqua hues still swirling with fading tiredness. "good morning?" he mumbled, alerting the parents of his presence. with that, the two pairs of eyes flicked over to him, and the flury of questions began.
----
the calm discussion quickly turned to a defensive, offended, embarrassed Quinnely raising his voice, and then to parents yelling to stop with the yelling, note they started doing it too, and soon enough Miles was storming out of the house with a slam of the door. the entire scene included the sentences, "nothing happened, i was sick and he came to help. there was a storm, i'm afraid of thunder, but you obviously wouldn't know that because you're never here." "dont you dare turn this around to blame me and your mother." "then stop blaming me for something you didn't even see!" "we saw enough." "you saw nothing." Mama Miles was soon trying to calm down the father with his vein popping, and Quinn just straight up left. grabbing his jacket off the hook, it was actually quite warm outside why was he doing that, and throwing on a pair of sneakers, he was out of that hellhole. oddly, the first place he thought to go was Luka's house. he hadn't been there in so long, so he was forced to look at the address that had magically appeared in his phone. Quinnely's skateboard was a very reliable source of travel, and he was quickly cooling off as he rolled down the path towards the house in the trees. the light haired boy pulled out his phone, nibbling on his bottom lip as he decided to text Lulu.
//I'm coming over.//
he furrowed his brows and huffed a sigh, then simply deleted the letters, for he was already at Luka's driveway, looking up at the old house. (im improvising with this i have no clue what the house looks like) it was big, bigger than most houses, and was made of brown logs. it had many windows, a set of steps, a porch that hugged the front of the house, and some eerie looking space below the whole thing. Quinn knew that Luka had a few family friends staying at his house, but this was...wow. this was impressive. suddenly realizing that Luka may not be home, and he'd have to explain himself to strangers, he was having second thoughts. this was dumb. he was a wimp for running away from home. children dreamed of fleeing from parents, not teenagers in high school. Quinnely eventually made himself walk up the steps, being as quiet as physically possible, and stood in front of the door. ahh crap. he thought as he pressed his thumb against the doorbell, hearing the faint sound of the buzzing from within the house. Quinn shuffled his feet, straightening his tee shirt and reaching up to rub the back of his neck. a teenager wearing a pair of skinny jeans and some geeky band shirt probably wasn't the nicest thing to have on your front porch, so he really hoped it'd be his Lulu answering the door.
//jesus christ novel time//