the day had moved by at record pace, as it inclined to do with blaise, their teasing and familiarity making silences or gaps in laughter rare, if not, infeasible. that was, however, until her presence was requested elsewhere, and from then onwards, the fairground music became a plausible theme to his demise, and the drowning sounds of cachinnation brought him anything but transferable joy. having already eaten his weight in health concerning food, scrolling through social media and making calls to a victim he’d land his finger on without looking, miller was running out of options. by now, he was scowling indefinitely, still surprisingly more than usual, and once he became vigilant of it, he decided it was best to stop watching, instead focusing his attention on winning at least one prize from the assortment of booths. though it seemed, on that day and at that exact time, all ruling deities had their odds stacked against him, curses flying from his lips as yet another witless game was lost. just as he was preparing to throw his arm back and make his final throw for the inanimate stack of cans, which he conspiracised had a scheme barring his triumph, miller’s head spun around upon hearing blaise’s voice, honeyed and whimsical. none other than a warning signal. he enjoyed seeing her happy, but not when he knew little to nothing about the source of said happiness. studying her features, he nodded slowly at intervals, an attempt to appear fully immersed in her words, in lieu of the grin oakley wore whilst confidently guiding her away. miller was well cognizant of the nature of some men, and all too well almost, considering he was the exact type of person he’d reluct to let within feet of blaise. it was ironic, granted, but he was insistent on protecting her from any immediate threats, including people like himself. miller had no evidence to suggest oakley was one of his own kind, with a need to twist and toy with the emotions of others, only concerned about his own needs, but it was an immediate conclusion he tended to jump to when it concerned blaise and her affliction to flaunting other men on her arm. landing in present time, he smiled as broadly as he could attempt to achieve, eyes scanning the intricate henna design on the blonde’s shoulder. “ yeah, s’cool. ‘m glad you had a good time. ” he pulled his gaze away from hers, turned on his heels to face the booth, tossing the cheap ball up in the air and letting it drop back down into his hand, idly. “ you were longer than you said you’d be, though. ” he commented, before throwing the ball against the cans with force, still, leaving all but one malefic can standing. looking over his shoulder, he continued to voice his subconscious concerns, a more genuine smile forming on his lips as he anticipated depreciation for his poorly judged throw. “ so, what, did he get you roses, or somethin’ ? why are you grinnin’ from ear to ear like a mad woman ? ”
an inexplicable desire to parade a sense of smugness around others danced within her depths for as long as she could remember, as blaise was never one to conceal any aspect of her life in which it seemed like she had won. throughout her companionship with miller, there was consistently an underlying layer of their bond, one which whispered of how his protective nature towards her had the potential to take on a proprietorial tone, as if she must exist as untouchable by any man who may enter her vision; this was no doubt a result of the sibling-like hue of their relationship, yet it wasn’t familial enough to prevent the blonde from the temptation to behave defiantly against his wishes, or the desire that his guardianship over her should never melt away. there was something that tickled her core whenever his trademark defensiveness expressed itself on her behalf, especially when prompted by her teasing it with the presence of other men, attractive specimen who admired all of the traits her friend wouldn’t. this trend found its conception long ago in junior high, as the voluptuous, flaxen-haired girl had a tendency to cast her eyes upon miles’ mates, the simulacrum of the older boys tempting on her lips. as her breath mingled with his once again, years later amongst a crowd of strangers who reeked of dough, saccharin, and various palliatives, blaise couldn’t help but quirk a brow at his less-than-enthused reaction upon her return. “it’s just a shame we couldn’t have had that good time together,” she offered, tilting her head as her gaze shifted from his visage to the ball in his hand, lips curling at the image of his fingers clutching its curves, the pads fading into ivory from the grip. “but i had such a great time, really. he was a hoot.” it was his last comment that solicited a real toothy grin from her usually stoic appearance, already loosened by the activities of the day. as the words tumbled out of his mouth, the blonde couldn’t resist the sneaking sensation of complacency, her arms twisting into a knot before her chest, pride evident in this movement. jealousy wasn’t her her desired effect, it never even crossed her mind that he could react in such a way when dealing with her, and this was unchanged by their encounter thus far. that one bit of dissatisfaction from miller was all she would need to know that she had thrived in spite of his protection, reminding him that she was a desirable female and that was something that couldn’t be ignored –– he couldn’t pretend she was still the sweetly demonic little girl at recess whose braids were longer than her fuse. everyone wants their childhood friend to picture them in their adult state once that seal has been broken, right? at least, that’s what she told herself; deep down there may exist alternate motivations for flaunting another on her arm. blinking, a moment passed before blaise offered a snort at the scene, conveying her disapproval at this meager throw, even though there was no doubt it was better than most. “nice try, babe ruth, but i hate to tell ya that wasn’t a home run.” her tongue slithered beyond the borders of her lips as she caught his eyes the second his chin tilted back in her direction, contentedness mixed with curiosity bubbling at the furthering questioning on the subject. with a giggle, the blonde floated over to face him fully, commanding his attention as her hands met the edge of the booth, guiding her back to rest against the counter; the smallness of her stature aligned her below the average height of contestants. “do you see any roses, millie? plus, flowers aren’t the only thing that can make a girl swoon,” she teased, as if he needed lessons on how to attract female visitors: of this she needed no reminding. “i guess it was just a fun time, lots of laughs. we rode a couple of rides –– there may have been some insinuation that the bumper cars didn’t have to be the only banging we do here. i don’t know... it was just so refreshing and nice to be noticed again. hardly ever happens, considering i’m, well... you know... me.”
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