1st October, 1997; midmorning || @endlesshvngerâ
Milo had left the Institute as Avery but was currently taking the stairs of the apartment building two at a time as himself, breathing shallow and snagging in his throat. As soon as heâd been able to talk himself down from the all-out panic attack Nathaniel Essexâs morning address had inspired, Milo had no thoughts in his head beyond leaving the mansion. He couldnât stand to overhear the gossiping on both sides of the fence, nor could he breathe even a single breath freely knowing Emmeline was somewhere on the school grounds. Milo simply had to leave, and let instinct guide him.
Whatever kind of relationship heâd had with Jack at Essex House had been⊠strange. Complicated. Understanding what he did about Jackâs ability and the needs it left him with, Milo hadnât minded lending him the energy he could spare from time to time. And because heâd offered it freely, he thought theyâd developed at least some kind of bizarre friendship. Once theyâd escaped Milo also thought it might dissipate into thin air with the realization Jack had only protected him because he was useful, but even with the vast options of New York City at his fingertips, he hadnât seemed to mind Milo occasionally poking around.
So, maybe itâs the impulse to seek out someone whoâd previously protected him that autopilots Milo to Jackâs doorstep. Only when he knocks rapidly does Milo realize he hadnât called ahead, and that he probably looks like a neurotic mess. But as long as Jack had seen the morning address, too, well. He assumes the man will understand.
âIâm sorry,â Milo blurts out as soon as the door opens, still struggling to catch his breath. âI shouldâve called, but--â