#venefiiicus

          he’d only meant it as a joke --- he doesn’t need leon           to prove anything, especially not in his drunken stupor.           when he feels the kiss upon his jaw, he can’t help the           red that colors his cheeks. banquo clears his throat           and sits back up, resting on the arm of the couch. 

                   “ YES, i suppose you are. ”

          he rests his chin in his hand, watching the male pace about the           room. he suspects this must have something to do with beau or           perhaps something leon’s been assigned to do, but the fact of           the matter is this: he doesn’t know whats happening EXACTLY.           if there’s one thing weston cannot stand, it’s being in the dark.

                    “ you know i love you, leon, but you MUST sit down. you’re                     making me nervous. what’s going on ?? ”

         for a moment, he stares. the word has simply slipped out,          he didn’t exactly mean anything but it — at least, that’s          what he’s telling himself. he raises a brow, glancing at          the around the room. he clears his throat as he shifts          slightly in his seat, arms folded over his chest. 

                “ uh — son ?? ”

          “ well, my initial response was going to be           because he’s awful, but… it’s probably           because he likes your butt, you loser. ”

          “ i’m afraid that not everyone is meant to be           saved, my dear. not even the ones we love. ”

          milo has always been more than used to people making           small comments about him. usually something about his           family, something about the way he acts— it doesn’t           matter, someone always had something to say. but over           the years, he grew used to it. more often than not now,           he will say something in return. but not this time. this           time, he’s walking with leon and belle, holding the girl’s           hand so she doesn’t run off as leon walks ahead. they’re           waiting for beau to show up, but since belle had gotten           restless, milo suggested walking around. 

          the comment that is made hardly phases milo, he just           swings his and belle’s arms a little, focusing on leon’s           back in front of him. he doesn’t expect the man to stop,           nor does he expect him to turn and even acknowledge           the fact someone spoke, much less say something in           return. all milo can do is watch, and wait for the stranger           to leave. after a moment of silence, he looks at the taller           male. 

                   “ you didn’t have to do that, but… thank you. no one’s,                   uh— no one’s done that before. ”