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“I’ll do it,” he mumbled.
“YAY!” Milo clapped his hands, rushing back into the room.
Rowan swallowed hard before walking into his office, picking up a few heavy tomes off his shelves, and bringing them back to Milo.
“Books?” Milo asked.
“There’s a lot of dragon history that humans wouldn’t have been taught.” Rowan crossed his arms over his chest. “You know the basics—enough to coexist, anyway—but there’s a lot about dragon history that directly influenced how things are done now and as a dragon you should know those things.”
“So you’re giving me homework?” Milo sounded like an offended teenager.
“It’s not homework,” Rowan said. “It’s what you asked for.”
“Oh I absolutely do not recall asking for reading assignments. I’m a terrible reader. I get distracted easily. And I get hungry so I go looking for snacks, and then I forget I was reading so by the time the snack is gone and I’ve done whatever it is I end up doing it’s bedtime, and nobody sane reads at bedtime.”
“Plenty of people read before bed.”
“Psychos,” Milo said. “The word you’re looking for is psychos. Bedtime is for sleeping.”
“Well I don’t know what to tell you.” Rowan was getting grumpy again. “If you want to be a dragon and claim your hoard officially so they can keep living in the new space we’re building, you’ll have to figure it out.”
Milo sighed and threw himself sideways at the couch.
The sunlight landed directly on that bright blond, almost silver hair, making it glow. His skin, pale and soft, was perfectly illuminated and Rowan could see every vein through his fragile, closed eyelids.
He knew putting the couch there made sense.
He walked over and hauled the carpet across, unrolling it and walking on it to flatten it to the floor. He plucked the coffee table off his dining table and put it back down, then sat on the edge, careful not to put his full weight on it before reaching out to pluck the books Milo was cradling out of his arms.
“Read it to me?” Milo asked, eyes still closed, wiggling to get comfortable.
Rowan’s throat tightened unexpectedly.
Something about this pest of a man squirming on his couch, soaking up the sun and asking for things did something to Rowan. Something he hadn’t felt in…ever.
“I’m not gonna—”
“Please.” Milo opened his eyes and the electric blue hit Rowan like a freight train. He lifted his hand to clutch at his chest, trying to take a breath deep enough to count. It was like he couldn’t fill his lungs properly. Like he was suffocating under something he couldn’t name.
“I…”
“I promise I will remember everything and be the best dragon ever,” Milo said, making a cross over his heart.
He turned on his side facing Rowan and lifted his feet up onto the couch, stuffing his folded hands under his chin and settling in.
Rowan stared some more.
And then, against his own better judgment, he cracked open the first book and started reading.
Notes:
Hands in the air, who wants Rowan to read to you?
10
Milo
He has a nice voice , Milo found himself thinking as he drifted in and out of focus listening to Rowan’s deep bass as he read…something.
