NATURE & NURTURE

The moment Jolie first met Miles Ellis was peculiar. Then again, this was how the majority of her friendships were formed ─ unlikely, polar opposites oddly having a common ground in the comfort of their hobbies. The pairing has known each other for a while. Long before this club became established. So, it doesn’t astound her either hearing the male on being the first to arrive for the book club. It was something she relished on creating for a while but was hesitant due to her constant back and forth with the Island. It was Vince who had encouraged her to proceed forward with her love and ever-growing list of hobbies. Since making the permanent move to Catalina from Newport, it had been four months of book club festivities, but it was well worth it. Turning on the minimal heel of her inky, leather loafer to greet the other with a warm, welcoming smile as his previous words were still ringing in her head about Adora. It oddly hit too close to home considering the similarities of Adora and Charity did cause her to take a few days to return back to her reading. It had felt as if someone picked into her life and wrote it without her knowledge. Flushing the thoughts away with an intensifying smile and motioning him to get comfortable on the recently purchased l-sectional couch ─ it was Vince’s choice after nearly falling asleep on it at the furniture store. “You are the first one and I’m glad you’re here as a matter of fact!” She confessed happily. Something in her seafoam hues caught her focus, preferably information on MIles and Cleo together, which made her ecstatic after knowing the pairing in separate terms. Nonetheless, it was something she wouldn’t bring to life right away but it did make her curious. Love was something she adored. Considering that her own experience with love consumed her. “First off, do you want something to drink? I have laid out wines but if you’re wanting something else… Vince has a few bottles of Whiskey back in the kitchen on standby for any guests,” she informed. Her boyfriend understood the importance of tonight. The likelihood of him coming home to seeing everyone discussing with each other would not be unusual but the couple liked to serve their guest the best. “Also, tell me more about your Adora thoughts because I need to hear it all!” 

“Umm, no drinks please, I’ve got work tonight...” Miles shrugged in candid fashion; his days and nights were always scheduled, something he was starting to learn the importance of, as the contents of the cork board in his room changed to fit his daily planning, starting from when he woke up to the time he went to bed. And his friendship with Jolie was a kind of liberation; around her, he didn’t have to pretend to be a rough and tough rum tum tugger, and he didn’t have to hide his rather gentle nature within the confines of a book club. He would slowly learn to open himself like that to Cleo too, but for the time being, the blonde haired woman would have be the keeper of his secret. “But yeah, the book was a ride, I’m not going to lie like...holy shit, I’m...” He sat down on the couch his host pointed out, feet planted strong as he leaned forward, elbows on knees and hands holding the weathered copy of Sharp Objects that he had borrowed from a lending library. “I bet you say to all the people who walk in through your door, Jolie. It is quite alright, though. Flattery gets you everywhere, my friend.” He laughed awkwardly, reaching to stroke his beard as the sense of unease settled into his system. Miles felt like a gatecrasher, like he didn’t belong in this beautiful house and these beautiful people, and the silence that grew made the discomfort almost suffocating. What did Cleo say about commanding presences? Was it faking it till you made it? Maybe he should have asked her about this before he made his way here. “Okay so like...Amma? I’m shocked, because I didn’t see it happening. I have a knack for identifying killers, and I thought all signs...just pointed to Adora, you know? Maybe she slipped because she...no one suspects a killer in plain sight, if you’re combing through the shadows.” 

The sight of Miles practically dripping red from every corner has Reina’s blood boiling even more once she finally gets a good look at him, in annoyance at both him and her husband. This isn’t the worst she’s seen him look and she’s almost come to expect it from him at this point, but the fact that Jason had been the one to do him in like this has her absolutely seething. “Oh, Jesus Christ.” She honestly can’t wait to get home and chew Jason’s fucking head off for this, even though she knows any confrontation will likely end in him taking her by the jaw and flinging her across the room, but that’s never stopped Reina from screaming at him before and it’s certainly not going to now. “Let me look.” She doesn’t wait for his consent before her fingers are lifting his chin and she’s prodding at his face with little regard for his comfort as she attempts to avoid the blood spewing from Miles. It wouldn’t do to get any on her very expensive dress, regardless of the circumstance. Her touch isn’t warm or motherly but it does the trick, and she can easily deduce the number Jason’s done on Miles’s face. In short, it’s not good. “You cannot keep fighting my battles for me, Miles. You know what fucking happens when you provoke him,” she snaps, meaning every word. He’s grown up around the man in question and he knows exactly what he’s doing when he pushes Jason’s buttons like this, and Reina wishes after fifteen years he’d learn his lesson. “Stop acting like an idiot, you have more common sense than this.”

“You say that every time, but when have I ever listened, Ma?” Miles doesn’t like the prodding and studying. Because he is so used to being the one who solves Reina’s problems, being one feels out of place. Anyone passing by might have thought it was a woman looking after someone she cared for, but they should have been in his shoes, feeling thin digits gripping his face with considerable strength. He doesn’t even have the energy to toss the hand away. He was mostly okay now, wherever the blood was coming from was done for now, and he could see the speckles of blood on the dress, but he has not the wherewithal to care. “You sure about the common sense? Because something tells me the old man might have knocked out a few of those screws in here...” He taps his temple, a weak chuckle his attempt to salvage this situation. “I didn’t...provoke him. He was sitting right there, scaring customers and probably Marlowe. I was just....being a good...fucking...employee. Fuck...you got some Tylenol on ya, Ma? Think I could use one...” Or a dozen. 

Tonight’s activity has been mundane ─ folding laundry, adjusting Iris bedroom, and even cleaning the spotless kitchen for her own sanity. In the distance, the television was playing re-run episodes of Friends whilst a snug look occupied her petite frame. Oversized UC Berkeley sweatshirt and sweatpants which was her typical wear when it came to spending the evening home. Even with the television in the distance, the dyed blonde could hear Garfield running back and forth from her bedroom to the kitchen as he felt the need to play toward the time of slumber. Every once in awhile, she couldn’t help but go to her phone and see if Miles had responded back. Still nothing. Given the fact it was a working evening for him, Iris & Eve was most likely erupting considering it was the hot spot of Catalina since it’s open and his focus needed to be on the establishment. The last time she went to the restaurant to see him caused a tabloid to discuss their relationship ─ which had been the beginning but since then, they had been climbing upward. She’d just have to wait for any response back.

Right as the blonde walked right past her phone to turn down the television, a knock on her front echoed through the sizable home in Avalon as it was immediate to catch her attention. Swiftly gliding from point A where the remote was to the front door took less than a few moments. God, how much she missed Miles at this particular moment. Just to be in his embrace and to feel at home with him. This was everything she just wanted at this particular moment. Considering how their activities have been for the last few weeks, intimate and allowing each other to explore their bodies again, her body was wired to him. Any time she was away from him, her heart ached and just wanted to be glued to him ─ nothing she had felt in lovers from the past. All of those words she said to him in his bedroom still stuck. God, could he just give her a sign that he was okay.

Opening the front door from its locks, her cerulean hues instantly illuminated and glossed into their newest venture of being laced with love as he was there. There went her beating heart. Rapid. All because of the sight of Miles. “Jesus fucking Christ, I’m so glad you’re here,” she breathed in relief before standing on her tippy toes to embrace him momentarily. Only to step aside to allow her boyfriend to enter into her residency afterward, considering it was typically them in his bedroom. “Don’t laugh at me but I missed you.” It was a love laced whimper confession falling off the prong of her tongue. Rarely did she admit such things. It just didn’t help that he was an infection that she never wanted to get rid of. “I was tempted to go down to Iris & Eve to yell at you for not answering me. You know, I can’t help that I insist the world revolves around me.” Retorting with a vaulted brow and a slight cocksure attitude to her words. Only wanting to catch a sight of the male in the light and comparison to the dim street light in the distance. Bruises. What the fuck did he get up to? And who was it with? Maybe that’s why he was silent. It did cause a sharp pain in the pit of her chest, but she still loved him ─ the moment to nurse his wounds were here. “Baby,” she breathed before nearing the distance in a vexed emotion considering the baby was sharp and murderous, digits beginning to graze the wounds upon his face. Softly movements, carefully investigating the damage with furrowed brows from optical angles, “I did call my boyfriend even if he’s beaten to fucking shit. If you think you’re going to go down on me without explaining to me what the fuck happened to you first, we’re going to have a problem.”  

Miles was getting used to the dimly lit front porch, just like he was getting used to the pain ricocheting through every part of his body, almost like an undecipherable hum of heat and a jolt if he moved too much. But the door opened, and it was like facing heavenward in the way the warm glow invited him. Cleo’s silhouette didn’t go unnoticed, but she had wrapped her arms around him, so warm and inviting, smelling like cleaning wipes and generally like she always did. As if led by instinct, Miles’s hands wrapped around her waist, ignoring every protest his aching limbs made. Her presence was like a balm, and the moment could have lasted forever, him with his eyes closed, holding onto her like she was a lifeline, or a healer. And he would never need a doctor again. He almost missed her words, but words were unnecessary here. If the blonde asked, he’d pull that bad boys card again, and he wonders if that’s just a front he plays for her. He wants to be honest about himself, how he likes to read on the weekends with his book club friends, and how much he loves his D&D character, Eighty the WarForger. But as she began to slip away from his grasp, Miles had to bring himself back to reality. This wasn’t the time or place, and his goddamn broken body seemed to agree with that. 

He tried to be graceful in his entrance into Cleo’s clean abode, but with the skinned knee it wasn’t the easiest. Suddenly aware of the grime that clung to his jacket, the brick dust all over his pants. How he was dirty, in a space bigger and cleaner than he’s ever been in. Fuck. He should have just gone to a bar instead. Surely, he’d find a seedy little thing that wouldn’t even bat an eye as he used up their toilet paper to nurse his bruises. But the way his girlfriend (girlfriend!) looked at him, with pure adoration, he could almost forget the state of himself for a moment. She was relaxed, and she looked as clean as her home. As homely as the couch he could spot behind her, and how badly he just wanted to sink into the plushness of it and forget the world for a bit. In her oversized sweatshirt, looking straight out of every girl next door fantasy magazines Miles used to steal from the newspaper stands a long time ago. And she was talking, telling him she missed him. And for some reason, it didn’t make Miles uncomfortable. Intimacy had always been Miles’s Achilles heel, as a self proclaimed lone wolf. He liked staying away, unable to build connections unless they were familial, because in his life, losing was more than just a distant thought. It was a horror he had endured and was consumed by. So affection had been something he actively avoided, because it made his belly tighten and his legs ready to make a run for it. But right then, he was content. Right now, Cleo was saying everything Miles wanted to hear and he just wants to close the distance between them and kiss her wanton and tell her he missed her too. Miles wants to tell her everything about his day, about the joke one of the bussers told him, how the bar back almost got fired. About his fight with Jason. He wanted to reply, to react some way to her proclamations, about how he didn’t give a shit if she wanted the world to revolve around her, because if Miles could, he would have made that happen right now. 

But she had already crossed the distance, gentle fingers and ocean blue eyes studying the bruises on his face. Would she think of him as a rascal and realise this isn’t the man for her? Would she laugh at him if he told her about losing to his adoptive father in a fist fight? Suddenly, he wished he wasn’t here. Cleo was going to hate him, and he couldn’t stand that from the girl he’s in love with. But. But. He really does want to talk to Cleo. She’s the only one he can talk to right now, where he will get no judgement. Where no one will chastise him for being an idiot. He winced when her fingers touched a sore spot on his cheek, now spotted with dried blood. “Uhh...” He wasn’t sure what to say to her right then. “...You sure I can’t just let you ride me? Cos your pussy is the only reason why I’m here...” It hurt to smirk, and a dry chuckle died pretty quickly as it began. “I...you might as well hear it from me, before Ma, because she’s gonna call me a fucking pendajo and probably suspend me for causing a ruckus at work...” He sighed, “I got into a fight with Jason. He was just...right there, and I just...I don’t know what I was thinking...” 

@milesawayellis​ “someone thought we were a couple so like , we totally just hit best friend goals.”

A snort of laughter rips out of her at Miles’ words. The two of them have a relationship she often has trouble defining — she knows that Reina is, essentially his mom, but between being the same age and meeting as teenagers, she isn’t sure she’ll ever truly associate the word nephew with him. But he is, undoubtedly, family — maybe like the cousin you take a walk with after Christmas dinner so you can talk shit on everyone, or the brother who moved out of town and you stay bonded through whatever absurd thing your mother has come up with next. She raises a brow at him before nodding to a nearly vacant table on the Iris & Eve patio. “That sweet little old lady out there?” She asks, indicating to the elderly woman sitting alone. “Last week she asked me if Cleo was my life partner.” Her eyes roll, another laugh following soon after.  “God, she must think I’ve got a revolving door situation going on or something.”

“I mean, we could make it a thing. I feel like she’d be very accepting of your newfound polyamourous lifestyle.” After a beat, as if to still keep in character, “for you, I’d swallow all the hatred I feel for Halliwell and pretend we’re a happy throuple. Just know that’s the lengths I’ll go for our friendship.” Miles knew why him and Cleo were keeping it on the downlow, but at times like this, when he was sat with the second person who’s known him since before Catalina, he wished he could tell Ro what was up. Not yet, though. “I also cannot believe you wouldn’t consider us a couple at some point. A couple of straight hotties, I mean!” He sat on the table, forgetting his customer service training, “you need anything? Refills, another plate of...whatever you were eating, anything?”

      Conflict resolution remained to be a skill set that wasn’t necessarily taught to young boys. Girls learned to talk through their feelings while their counterparts were taught to either ignore them completely or use fists to resolve problems words couldn’t. He could understand why it was something Miles struggled with. Especially due to the fast paced nature of his occupation and the amount of people he had to interact with on daily basis. He wasn’t sure what Miles exactly did before his position at Iris & Eve but if it didn’t involve managing a diverse group of people then it only made sense why there were some hiccups now. 

     Finishing off the contents of his glass allowed Topher a couple moments to think before offering any further advice. They were only a couple years apart age wise and the last thing he wanted to do was come across condescending. He happily allowed himself to be that around the boy’s father but that’s because he couldn’t stand Jason Rhodes, his son on the other hand wasn’t so bad. “I don’t think you have to be shady to communicate your frustration. There is an art to being straight-forward without coming across angry. You just have to find that line for yourself. Usually I count to ten to in my head but that trick doesn’t work for everyone.”

Miles wasn’t exactly the picture of perfection when it came to who Reina hired at Iris and Eve. But he did have a degree, and maybe he did arrange a few favours with his ma on that one. But he liked this job much better than his previous one, slaving away at City Hall over things that no one gave a shit about. And the job before that didn’t even involve the public eye, and all he had to do was glower and make sure they didn’t cause problems. A glorified bouncer. So it wasn’t all that strange that Miles wasn’t good at being a boss. Or being bossy. 

Looking at the reminder of his food, he started picking at it, helping himself to the small bites of lettuce and tomato that escaped from them. The silence wasn’t anything discomforting, and Miles could sit for hours in that kind of silence. But then Topher started speaking and the man leaned forward. “Counting to ten, taking deep breaths...my issue isn’t anger management. It’s just that....” His mouth pursed momentarily, before he started again. “I can’t seem to keep personal and professional apart. I think that’s something for me to figure out, huh?”

@milesawayellis​, @challiwcll​.

“Miles Thaddeus Ellis!” screeches of Sara’s tone raised an octave as she yelled the males name across the house. After the Founders Day Ball, Sara made a promise to come and cook for him and anyone that knew the female, she stuck to her word. Top priority whenever it came to the male since he was her best friend, but she’d never say that aloud to him. That, and also because the rumours of a relationship fizzling between her two friends sparked her curiosity. “Idiota, why do leave your front door unlocked? I could have been an Arbonne representative and God forbid a scammer like that ever shows up at your front door.” she continued on, a light snort permeating from her nose as she humoured herself with her own joke. Though it hadn’t really been a joke since Sara was a doctor herself, and it wasn’t hard for her to differentiate what was a health scam and what wasn’t. Dumping the bag of groceries on the counter along with her jacket and scarf, she continued to search for the male in his own home, now doubting that he was even home in the first place. “Mil – oh, there you are.” stopping herself before she could puncture her throat even more, she rose a brow at him. “Why are you sweaty?”

Miles had been busy. In his bedroom. With his female companion. Okay, no, that sounded wrong on so many levels; Miles was making out with Cleo, their second or third secret encounter where they were unable to keep their hands off each other, and keeping things under the cover were key. He had an off day at work, and with his lover in his arms, he thought they could have had a quick tryst in his bedroom before their real life commitments caught up with them. The sound of Sara’s voice quickly dashed any of the dreamy romantic notions the man could have been cooking up, and in a bid to hide the evidence, he had shoved Cleo into a cupboard alongside his gym shorts and decent shirts. Everything was a whirlwind, a shirt being tugged onto his body immediately, just as he came face to face with Sara. Under any circumstances, Miles was nothing if not a smooth talker, a great liar. But right now, out of breath and covered in a light sheen of sweat, he was struggling to come up with anything. “....uhh, I was working out. Home gym, very exclusive, Reina said only Jason’s allowed to use it! So you cannot go in there!” 

Walking was a fucking chore, as Miles stumbled towards a particular destination in mind. He had been overreacting about the breaking rib, but it didn’t hurt any less to breathe. He definitely looked like a mess and then some, and the looks he was getting from the people passing by only confirmed that it wasn’t just what he wasn’t feeling on the inside. But he couldn’t go home. Miles didn’t want to go home, because going home would mean going for round two with Jason, and for his Ma’s sake, he wouldn’t start another fight. For the kids’ sakes too. He wasn’t a hardass, Miles wasn’t; he loved his family, and that’s why he hated Jason so much. 

He was at Cleo’s front door, hoping she would be home. And not ask questions. Oh why are you all bruised up? What can I say, sweetcheeks, I’m a fighter not a lover. Okay, maybe one question he was willing to answer. But why at Cleo’s front door? Simply because, after everything that had transpired in the days after their...dalliance, the man couldn’t help but feel like a kinship to the blonde, finding her company comforting, and the only one he needed right then. 

Knocking, he tried to keep it casual, play off the bruises like a bad boy’s ruse and tried not to wince in pain as he leaned against the wall. “Hey girl, did you call for some bad boys with a side of your boyfriend?” Just because he was injured, didn’t mean Miles still didn’t want to flirt.

CLOSED / @milesawayellis​ LOCATION: Iris & Eve back alley TIME: idk right after the Brawl

It doesn’t take long for Reina to hear about Miles’s little altercation with her husband, and it took her even less time to make a beeline directly for him after seeing Jason storming around the back of the restaurant with bloodied knuckles and a crooked nose. It doesn’t take a genius to realize her best bet to find Miles would be outside, still at the scene of the crime, looking like complete shit. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Reina’s hand immediately goes to swat the back of his head when she spots him before she rounds on him, crossing her arms in sheer annoyance. “On what fucking planet do you think what you just did would be a good idea? I mean, Jesus Christ, Miles. You could’ve gotten yourself killed.” That’s not even an exaggeration — Jason’s generally pretty lenient on Miles given Reina’s affinity to him, or as lenient as someone like her husband could possibly be, but she’d heard about the way Miles had antagonized the man. She spares a glance for the dock behind them and the boat rocking beside it, because if Miles were anyone else Reina’s pretty sure he’d be miles away, rotting at the bottom of the Pacific ocean right now and they both know it.

Leaning against the rough wall, it’s like Miles can’t even catch a fucking break. Jason definitely knocked something loose inside of him, judging by the blood that wouldn’t stop dribbling from the corners of his mouth, and how painful it was to fucking breathe right then. But he’s no pussy, and even though Reina’s swat felt like dropping rocks on his head, he wasn’t going to complain. “Fuckin’ hell...” Another sprayful of blood, before he could even justify what he had done. “I was so...so fuckin’ tired of his shit...Ma...” It’s hard to talk because it’s hard to breathe, and he’s sure there’s a rib broken and he wonders if it’s going to kill him slowly and these are his last words. But still, he leans there, cool as a cucumber, with nothing to say in his defense. “I saw him...talking to Torres...fuckin’ lost it.” He’s not going to stand straight, because he’s pretty sure his stomach is also hurting and if he moves, he’s going to groan in pain, and did Miles mention that he’s not a pussy ass bitch? “At least I fixed ‘is nose for ‘im...looks damn better than Evelyn’s nose job...” He smirked again, trying to lighten the situation as best he could.