Milo and MC - Fluff and love declarations

The trinket market was in full swing. It was one of those events where everyone came out to sell, setting up blankets and tables under the eaves of towering trees and twinkle lights. Nothing bigger than the palm of a hand was allowed to be sold, thus creating piles and piles of jangling little bits that had no real purpose in life other than to appease the tender heart of a magpie. 

It was apparently one of Milo’s favorite events of the year.

I watched as he wove through stall after stall, talking to the vendors like they were old friends. He ran towards a few of them, throwing his arms around them with abandon. When I saw their face light up, I felt my heart swell. Milo had always been a people person. It was in his nature. But rarely these days did he get to mingle within a large crowd and Just be another one of them. He was the perfect picture of every cliché action I had ever seen. He laughed and greeted others with a long time no see. He gasped appropriately as he spotted sons and daughters of vendors, exclaiming that that couldn’t possibly be such and such. He made promises to get a drink. Asked about wives. Husbands. Hugged a bit longer when he heard one had not made it through the season. Milo was a people person. One that was in his element when he was dancing in and out of people’s lives. It made me sad in a way, knowing that he would never allow himself to be fully a part of it. Milo twirled into people’s lives and then right back out again. I had to remember that it was within his fae nature. That he wasn’t like me. I just wanted the world for this man.

“Aster, look, darlin’,” he said, sauntering over to me. He held out both his hands, curling them into firsts. “Pick one.”

I tapped his right hand.

He uncurled his fingers to show me a small bronze turtle. It looked like it used to be a part of one of the more intricate statues. Somehow had popped it off and hid it for years, the gold tarnished to a blackened bronze.

“I’ll have to put this one with the others,” I told him. Milo had taken to finding me trinkets and placing them around my apartment. Little surprises for me to find on days that I was feeling blue.

“Might as well take this one, too,” he grinned, opening his other hand. A small emerald marble sat within his palm, waves swirling within the glass and crashing against each other.I plucked it from his hands, holding it up towards the lantern lit sky. “Rare find, yeah?” He came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing the back of my neck. “I love that marble seller. Mince is his name. He always has the best replications of a mini world.”

“Is it real?” I asked.

“He claims they all are. I think maybe one in a million are. Still, they are pretty. Great way for tricking kids into behaving if you tell them that you’ll suck them into the marble world if they don’t shape up.” I twisted around in his arms, looking at him with a raised brow. “Not that I do that,” he grinned.

“Of course not.”

Arms still wrapped around me, he walked the two of us off the main road, down a small dirt path to a little meadow. There were a few sellers here, most of them friends that had gathered to spend time together while possibly making a little coin.

“Did you know,” he started, still walking me backwards. “That I used to sell at one of these when I was a kid?”

“You? Actually making a living for yourself?”

He nodded. “Off of all the buttons I’d steal from Feebus’s factory.” I laughed. There it was. “I’d bring a little burlap sack out here, spread out my buttons, and convinced people that they were lucky. You just had to sew them into your lapel and your bad days would be no more.”

I reached up, tugging on his suspenders. The two of us fell backwards, Milo turning at the last moment to take the brunt of our weight. He grunted a little, a chuckle pushed from his lips.

“You realize that there was probably some fae magic in those buttons,” I told him. “Intentional or not, you most likely gave people a little bit of luck.”

“Ya think so?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. “I kind of like that. Wonder if anyone out there still where’s a Milo button.”

“I’m sure someone does. I would, you know. You should sew one into my jacket. That way I can keep a piece of you with me if you ever run off.”

His smile faltered a little. On the flat of his back, he kept his hands linked behind me, keeping me close. “I meant it when I said this was the place I wanted to be the most. As long as you’ll have me, I’m not leaving.”

I threaded my fingers through his hair, leaning down to brush my lips against his. “I know,” I whispered. “You remind me every day.” Yet we both knew that there was a likelihood his fae nature would send him wandering. The more we uncovered about it, the more the possibility seemed to arise. It was why I held him close when I could. And why he assured me every evening that he would be here when I woke up.

Erasing his smile, he sat up a little, my legs bracketing his hips as I went with him. He bent his knees, giving me support as we continued to sit, facing each other. With his ringed hand, he reached for my collar, passing it over the inside neckline. I felt the press of a button against my skin a moment later, resting right next to my collar bone.

Milo laughed in delight. “Holy shit, it worked!”

Every time Milo discovered a bit more of his magic, he lit up. Connecting to a heritage that had been blocked most of his life had given him a certain amount of confidence that I loved to see developing. With each new discovering, he practically vibrated with excitement to show me. It made his face light up. His eyes bright. That carefree nature that he used as a weapon was felt to its fullest

“Your smile reminds me of starlight,” I whispered, cupping his cheek.

He turned his lips to my palm, kissing it softly. “Yeah? You sayin’ my skin sparkles or something?”

“No,” I laughed. “I’m saying that when you smile, truly smile, you look like a man filled with infinite possibilities. You are a vast sea of endless beauty. You, Milo Next, are my eternity.” I leaned forward, pressing my forehead to his. He took a deep and shaky breath at that, trying not to run from the endearment.

“I am your eternity,” he promised.

Something warm wrapped around us both. A promise. Something fae. I didn’t question in though because it was from Milo. All that mattered at the moment was the two of us, wrapped around each other, surrounded by the joy and warmth of the world we both helped protect. The two of us, free.