The faucet incident had become a legend in the small, comfortable world of Milo and Elias's apartment. Milo had bought a new, high-tech, motion-activated faucet—"A goddamn technological marvel that doesn't need a dragon to turn it off," he'd declared—and Elias had reluctantly approved of the purchase, his silent judgment now tinged with a quiet, appreciative nod.
Life was good. The rain had ceased, and a rare, brilliant sun was shining down on Westkilo. Milo, in a fit of productive energy, had decided to tackle the one thing he always procrastinated: cleaning his windows. He had a large, beautiful bay window overlooking a small, bustling park, and it was currently a mess of streaks and grime.
"Easy peasy," Milo said, grabbing a spray bottle and a roll of paper towels. Elias was, as usual, in the armchair, silently reading one of Milo's graphic novels. Milo was now convinced Elias was secretly a huge geek, a fact that made Milo feel both seen and delighted.
"Stay there. This is a one-man job," Milo announced, pulling a stepladder over to the bay window. Elias didn't reply, but his wolf-like ears twitched, a clear sign he was listening.
Milo climbed up the three steps, teetering slightly, and began spraying the window with a cleaner. He was humming a happy tune, feeling a sense of accomplishment. He was almost done with the top section when he reached for a far corner, stretching a little too far.
His foot, clad in a sock, slipped on the second step.
Milo's heart leaped into his throat. He threw his arms out, trying to catch himself, but the ladder wobbled violently, threatening to topple him headfirst onto the polished hardwood floor. A strangled cry of "Whoa—oh, shit!" tore from his lips. He was completely off-balance, the spray bottle flying from his hand.[1]
In that split second, time seemed to slow down. He saw the floor rushing up at him. He saw Elias, a blur of motion from the armchair, his dark grass-green eyes wide, the graphic novel forgotten.
He didn't feel a hand catch him. He felt an entire body.
Before he could even hit the floor, Elias was there. He moved with a speed and grace that defied physics, his powerful body intercepting Milo's fall. Elias's arms, impossibly strong, wrapped tightly around Milo's waist, pulling him in with a single, sharp motion.
Milo slammed chest-to-chest into Elias, the impact knocking the air from his lungs. Elias was solid, a rock-like presence, and he held Milo so tightly that Milo could feel the powerful beat of Elias's heart thrumming against his own chest. His face was buried in Elias's shoulder, the faint, clean scent of rain and stone filling his senses. He could feel the strong, defined muscles of Elias's back beneath his hands, the surprising softness of Elias's long hair against his cheek.
Milo was safe. But he was also completely, utterly pinned against Elias, held in an embrace so fierce and intimate it stole his breath away.[2][3][4]
For a long moment, Elias didn't move. He simply held Milo, his arms a steel band around him. Milo could hear the sharp, quick intake of Elias's breath, feel his entire body trembling slightly with a leftover mix of adrenaline and something else. A protective rage he had seen once before, but now, it was directed at the simple fact that Milo had almost fallen.
Milo, utterly flustered and completely oblivious to the depth of affection in the gesture, slowly raised his head. He looked into Elias's eyes, which were still wide with a lingering, protective fire. Elias's lips were parted slightly, and his wolf-like ears were no longer flat with embarrassment but rigid and alert, listening for any other impending danger.
"Dude," Milo whispered, his voice a little shaky. "You... you saved me. Again."
Elias's gaze softened. The protective fire in his eyes died down, replaced by a quiet, profound relief. And then, as if realizing the intimacy of their position, a furious, deep blush crept up Elias's neck and bloomed across his pale cheeks, a perfect reflection of Milo's own. He slowly, reluctantly, loosened his grip, but he didn't let go completely. He was still holding Milo, his hands resting on Milo's hips, as if to make sure he wouldn't fall again.
The air between them was thick with unspoken words. Milo felt his own heart pounding a mile a minute, a chaotic mix of terror, relief, and a hot, uncomfortable fluster. He didn't know why Elias would risk his neck for him, or why his own body was reacting so strongly to being held.
He was just a guy.
And Elias was a strange, powerful, and very rude friend who seemed to have a knack for getting Milo's heart racing for all the wrong, and all the right, reasons.
[1] i know im the author of this book but like- damn milo- u gots some CRAZY bad luck there dude... XP
[2] DAMNNNN- THE AURA IS CRAZYY
[3] DAMNNNN- THE AURA IS CRAZYY
[4] DAMNNNN- THE AURA IS CRAZYY