â  The  real  you?  â  His  voice  is  low.  â  The  real  you  is  a  badass  who  doesnât  take  shit  from  anyone;  not  even  me.  The  real  you  is  someone  who  fights  for  whatâs  right  on  her  own  terms.  The  REAL  you  wonât  let  anything  happen  to  the  ones  you  love  and  youâd  do  anything  for  them  to  keep  them  alive.  Lara,  the  real  you  never  left.  The  real  you  is  still  there.  Minor  changes  make  the  real  you  stronger.  Powerful.  Able  to  kick  my  ass  even  harder.  â  A  smile  spreads  over  his  lips.  â  The  real  you  is  still  apart  of  you.  â
He  steps  forward,  putting  a  hand  on  her  check  as  his  other  hand  snakes  around  her  waist.  A  slight  tug  and  sheâs  pulled  tightly  against  his  frame.  He  can  feel  her  breath  against  his  neck.  A  kiss  is  laid  on  the  top  of  her  head.  â  The  real  you  is  still  the  person  I  fell  in  love  with.  â  His  voice  is  now  a  whisper,  lifting  her  chin  up  just  a  bit  so  that  she  could  feel  his  emotions  deep  in  his  dark  irises.  â  Okay?  â  /  @exfirefly  |  a  very  old  meme  iâm  not  going  to  try  and  findÂ
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     âi thought everyone knew how to play uno, câmon, are you letting me win on purpose?â the last of his cards are thrown into the stack on the old wooden table, a shit-eating grin PLASTERED on his face as he does so before he leans back and stares at the woman, brow cocking. âguess this means you are on watch tonight after all.â even though nick would easily switch with her before too long, he just wants to make her squirm.
   â People disappear all the time anymore, sânot like theyâre gonnaâ miss me. âSides we make a pretty good team, maybe we should stick together, yâknow?â
A  meta  for  Miles &  Lara  Miller.Â
written  for  @sicarea  /  @exfireflyÂ
Lara  Miller  is  dead.
It was a voice from her father, Tommy, that told him. And after that, no other voices broke through the silenced ring that poured through his ears. It blocked out everyone trying to sympathize with him. He didnât need it, he didnât want it. He didnât want voices telling him it would be okay. He didnât want people making sure that he was okay. He didnât want Maria Miller telling him that Lara loved him so much that she would do anything for him. He didnât want to hear Tommy Miller telling him how he thought of Miles as a son. He didnât want to think about the life they couldâve had. Lara Miller was dead. She was nothing now.
It was at the funeral that the people in Jackson decided to stop talking to Miles. It was a week since they found her dead and he hadnât shaved. Someone came up to him, Jesse, one of the scavengers that went out periodically. Someone that Lara grew up with here. His voice broke through the ring in his ears, âHey man, you good?â It was a soft whisper from the other. âI know what youâre going through. It can be tough to lose someone.â His man didnât have a clue what Miles was going through. Lara wasnât just someone, she was his someone. âBut, you canât let this shit get to you. You gotta keep moving forward. Thatâs what Lara wouldâve wanted.â And he felt a pat on his back.
His hand moved fast, grabbing Jesseâs arm and yanking in a direction that an arm shouldnât be pulled in. There was a scream from him, the scream that broke through the room and rained down silence. âWhat do you know what she wouldâve wanted?â Miles snarled, getting close to Jesseâs face. âYou didnât know her. You didnât know her!â His voice was rising as though he was the only one in the room screaming at this boy that said things when he had no place. âYou donât know what Iâm going through. You didnât know her. She was mine. She made a promise. You didnât know her. How could you know what she wanted?â
âPlease man! Let go of my arm!â Jesse cried, trying to get through Milesâs rage.
âMiles!â Tommyâs voice broke through. âMiles, let go.â
It was then that he realized what he was doing and he finally let go of the boy, who scrambled away from him holding his broken arm. He stared at those who stared at him. All eyes were on him, he was in the center of the chaos that he caused and he couldnât get out of it easily.
âMiles.â Tommyâs voice felt as though it were far away. The ringing of his ears returned to cloud the noises around him. Tommyâs mouth was saying his name, for him to calm down, but he couldnât hear it. His heartbeat was pounding against his ears, he heard his breath rapidly increasing. Tommy took a step toward him and Miles launched himself away from it all. He shoved the man aside and ran out of the room.
Lara Miller was dead.
There was nothing he could do now. He didnât protect her, he couldnât. She told him to stay here, to rest. He had been on every run since they returned home, it was time for her turn. If he had only known that her only run wouldâve killed her. She was everything to him. Lara Miller was Miles Perichâs world. She had brought him from the darkness of his mother, the darkness of the military, the darkness of the hunters, the darkness of his mind. He nearly killed himself after knowing he lost her once, what would he do now?
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           âââââââââââââ   ┠  ┠   â”  Gripping  the  bow  she  made  out  of  sticks  and  string  found  by  searching,  her feet  move  silently  against  the  leaf  covered  ground.  Not  wanting  to  give  up  her  location  to  the  girl  that  was  walking,  wandering  aimlessly  in  a  place  that  even  Lara  didnât  know  by  the  back  of  her  hand.  This  wasnât  London,  the  plane  crash  made  that  perfectly  clear.  After  losing  track  of  how  many  days  sheâd  been  on  this  part  of  the  world,  she  had  yet  to  find  another  living,  human  being  that  didnât   want  to  kill  her.  She  was  still  cautious  though,  as  one  HAD  TO  BE  in  a  world  like  this.Â
â   Stop!  Donât  move  any  closer  or  else  youâll  regret  it.  Youâre  going  to  answer  me  some  questions.  First  off,  who  are  you?    â
   SURRENDER YOUR TRUST TO ME - it was a hell of a lot to ask he knew that & he wasn't at all certain she had enough faith in him to place her life in his hands. Cos there, in that moment, the nightly breeze whipping against them. That's exactly what he was asking her to do. & in truth - given the soldiers, employed by a corrupt corporation, who were hot on their heels. It was a decision she had to make quickly. A youthful heart beating rapidly ( it only escalating into further frenzy at her close proximity ) , handsome attributes littered with severity. The blond haired survivor gave her palm an affectionate squeeze in reassurance as she entwined their fingers. His gaze flickering from her to the ledge of another buildings roof - a fair few feet from their own. The tips of his boots so close to the edge of the ledge they were standing upon, it was almost dizzying. Him taking the sound of wicked's men, breaking through the last barrier that stood between them and captivity - as cue to push onward with his risky plan.Â
   " Hey, it's alright. I've got you. You're not going to fall cos I won't let you. When I say jump, push off as hard as you can, got it? & when we touch down on the other side, you have to keep moving. " he declared with a stern edge to his tone that proved both clear and grounding. Him not even giving her a second to let fear in before he was shouting ' JUMP!!' before knees were bent and he was performing a half stride to leap off the ledge towards the roof opposite. His hand still gripping hers tightly to guide her along with him.
           HE DIDN'T WANT TO DIE THIS WAY. Didn't wish for the brutality of the world to swallow him whole. He knew what their world was about. Understood the risk. But if he could choose his way to leave the Odmortal plane upon which humanity roamed, he'd go out surrounded by his friends. He'd go down fighting for freedom. For a better tomorrow. & despite unwavering composure, fear crept in to the darkest corners of his consciousness. The devil of possibility, of the notion that this was a situation from which neither of them was going to escape with their lives, clinging to his back. Chest heaving with exerted exhalations. Defined brows furrowing in evident concern. The contours of his back pressed flush against the vibrating door. A hoard of festering cranks pushing against the other side. & he was certain it wouldn't hold for long. " As soon as we let go, we won't have much time... " was all he could think to initially pant. Intense hues ablaze with purified adrenaline. His instinctive desire to survive, kicking in.Â
         Honestly? He knew it was the best option out of a bad bunch, it certainly was better than standing there. Booted soles & lanky limbs bracing themselves to run. He nodded in her direction, mouthing a countdown that he knew she'd be able to see. 3... 2... 1! He sprinted  across the room. Blond locks shifting from the high intensity motion as he made a beeline towards the door with a faded sign suggesting it was ' roof access ', a stairwell of some kind. It being the only chance they had to survive. Him knowing that if they barricaded the door. They'd have a brief few moments, to think. The entrance they'd been guarding giving way with a bang behind them. Although he daren't look - the sounds of screeching and clicking cranks, filling the large room. & all he could do was run.
