Page 72
“It’s not even my business, for god’s sake. Go home!”
“I can’t just ditch in the middle of my shift,” he said weakly, and she grabbed his face with both hands.
“Your shift is over. And even if it wasn’t, you’re a hazard today. Get some sleep.”
“I just need—”
“Not another lick of coffee.” She pushed him out the back and toward the back door. “Go!”
“Fine!” he said, grabbing his stuff before power walking to the bus station.
He sank into a seat once the bus got there and relaxed as much as he could, eyes half-closed as the bus chugged along. Maybe Lyra was right. He needed some sleep. Some good food. Some rest.
Today was a fluke.
Tomorrow would be much better.
Notes:
Headcanon:
Milo is one of those people who try and walk off any illness they have, make it five times worse without going to the doctor, and then google their symptoms only to deduce they have negative four more hours to live.
22
Milo
Tomorrow was not better.
In fact, in the first couple of hours of tomorrow, Milo had managed to sleep through his alarm, slam his pinky toe into a chair, put his shirt on backward and only realize once someone pointed it out at the bus station, and forget, FORGET his Stanley cup at home.
His precious, glorious, wonderful cup filled with coffee. The life force slowly drained out of him as he rode the bus to Blazin’ Hot. He stopped at a small corner store to grab a few energy drinks before walking into the restaurant and picking up the car keys.
They were already swamped with orders and he threw a careless wave over his shoulder to his coworkers before storming out.
Who ordered wings in the morning anyway? It was breakfast time. Arguably the best time. Because breakfast foods were superior to all other foods. And wings? Absolutely not breakfast food.
He missed his street.
Made a U-turn where U-turns should never be made. Totally saw the wayward trash can he nearly clipped with his mirror.
Delivered the wrong box. Got screamed at.
Corrected his mistake and apologized before rushing back to his car and breathing in as deeply as he could.
He gulped his energy drink down in three swallows then shook his head hard, expecting the caffeine to kick in. Expecting something to change because he was falling apart.
It wasn’t happening.
He pulled his phone out and scrolled through his contacts. His finger hovered over Rowan’s name. Was he awake? Was he already in meetings and too busy to think about Milo? Even if he wasn’t busy, why would he be thinking about Milo? The hotel probably had a pool and a sauna and plenty of other serious business dragons, parading around him half-naked and pretty.
He felt himself bristle at the thought and before he knew it he’d typed out a text and sent it.
Milo: Are there naked dragons there?
The moment the text went through he cringed so hard he thought he’d die.
Scrambling, he dialed the one person he knew would pick up.
