Milo - Post Chapter Six

The card hit the tin can with the barest noise. Small little plinks continued to bounce down the alleyway until they found a new home somewhere amidst another game. Around and around the sounds all went, skittering through the market until they themselves got bored.

“You’re an idiot.”

Milo flicked another card and looked down at the girl next to him. Washed out blond hair that once would have had hints of red. A complete mop that flowed ethereally around wide eyes and a perfectly puckered mouth. “You’re an idiot,” he said back.

She sighed, rolling her eyes at him. “I’m a child. What’s your excuse?” Snatching up a few cards, she threw them, hitting the can. “I’m also winning.”

Milo grumbled something under his breath. Ever. The ghost outside his front door. The one who he had failed.  Another mark on the ever growing list of mistakes he needed to own up to.

“Why aren’t you with them?” she asked. They were sitting on a crate near the fisherman's quarry. The catch was coming in for the morning. Milo had noticed Ever liked hanging out down here lately. He suspected she was hoping a new ship would come in carrying in a father that had long since abandoned her.

“They didn’t want me to come,” he said with a shrug.

“So? You should have gone anyway. A big romantic gesture.”

Milo had thought about it. He had walked about a mile in the dark, following them until he realized he might be a bit of a creeper. That and he was disrespecting boundaries.  

“I don’t think it would be the right romantic gesture,” he tried to reason with the small girl.

“You need to do some sort of romantic gesture. You fucked up.”

“Hey,” he snapped at her. “Knock that shit off. You don’t get to say those words yet.”

Ever huffed a little sight, but clearly still respected Milo enough to begrudgingly listen. “What about flowers? You think you could bring them flowers? I read it in all the storybooks. When the guy is dumb, he brings flowers.”

Milo’s nose wrinkled and another card landed near the tin can. “Do you think flowers are enough? I mean, there’s not really a bouquet that says “hey, sorry I attempted to take your life. Intentions were good when I thought you were a rock but probably got muddied when you actually became sentient’.”

Ever shrugged. “Daisies are always a nice choice.”

“I don’t think it works like that.” Milo had been wracking his brain. A gesture wasn’t going to fix it. He at least was wise enough to not believe the forever child about that. But, he did feel he needed to do something. Something to tell them that he was not only sorry, but that he wasn’t going to do it again. That his allegiance, his life, his heart, was theirs.  “Maybe I could just cover Artisan Alley with flowers?” he put out there hopefully.

“Oh,” Ever clapped her hands. “How pretty! I would like to see that.”

Milo’s shoulders slumped. It was a stupid idea. No amount of flowers was going to fix it. Only time. He just felt like he didn’t have it.

“I don’t like seeing you sad,” Ever said after a long moment. “You’ve been sad a lot lately.”

“I did some stupid things,” he said bluntly. “I didn’t trust again and it screwed me. I wouldn’t say that I’m sad, I’m more angry at myself.”

“It’s okay to be angry at yourself,” she said. “I get angry all the time at myself. Especially when I can’t manifest correctly.”

Perspective. Milo hated it because it slapped him in the face constantly. “That’s not your fault, Never Ever. Those are the cards you’ve been dealt in life and let's face it, you’ve been doing great at working with what you have. I mean, you’re out of the alley now.”

“I think that was Hazel’s doing.”

Milo tipped his head to the side. “Why do you say that?”

“She sacrificed a ton of spirits. It did something to the veil. Broke some of the boundaries a bit. That’s how I got out.”

To bring Malcolm back. Hazel had done the unthinkable. No one had gotten out of the last year without blood on their hands.

“Milo,” Ever’s voice was small. “I’m worried.”

“About what?”

The girl shifted making the crate creak ominously beneath them.  “The world feels different. Everything feels different.”

“Bad different?”

“I don’t know. But I don’t feel comfortable.”

Milo wanted to open a door. If he thought he could send Ever through to a world where she would survive, where her ghostly spirit could find an actual family, he would. He would happily give her the life she wasn’t having here. But if he sent her away, he was no better than his mother. His father. He was getting rid of an inconvenience. The fact just remained, that he needed to do better.

“Why don’t you come home with me?” he asked.

“Because I’m trying to find dad, silly.”

Dad. Milo’s gut twisted and the anger flared in him with a snap. Behind them, the candles guttered out.

“Milo!” Ever yelled. 

“Shit. Sorry. Sorry.” He got up, relighting them manually, digging out a cigarette at the same time. “Sorry. I didn’t– Ever, just come home. You shouldn’t be wandering the market alone.” He no longer remembered how old she was. Time in the market always moves at a nonlinear pace. But, she still looked like a child. Had only a handful of experiences to her name. 

“I like wandering the market,” she said with a small kick of her legs. “I spent too long being able to do nothing. I’m not going back.”

“Then come and go as you please but just come home.”

“The distillery smells.”

“I’ll clean it.”

“It has rats.”

“Friends,” he corrected.

“Milo, I don’t like it there. It’s a prison. Not a home.”

And to that, Milo couldn’t actually argue. It was no place for a child. And no place for a girl who was dead and trying to hold on to the vestiges of life.

“No, you’re right. I’m sorry. You’re… you could come to the Star Sanctuary. I could talk to Estelle and–”

Ever was gone. With a blink, she simply was no longer there. Milo didn’t know if she had pushed herself again. If she had simply grown tired. Or if she had left because she didn’t want to have the conversation with him. Or maybe she was never there at all.

Looking down at the alleyway, he saw the litter of cards. With a sigh, he began picking them up, tucking them deep in his pocket for when he found her again. She would pop back up and he would spend time with her. And maybe, in the meantime, he could buy some flowers. Romantic gesture and all that.

At least it was something.