10 | damsel in jitters-3

It seemed a whole lot easier than having to deal with answers to questions I could hardly figure out. When we got to his house, Miles seemed a little uncomfortable as he led me into the living room, shutting the door gently behind me. It made me wonder if his discomfort could be attributed to him having never brought home a girl before. This probably was the case. Miles disappeared into the kitchen. Hardly wanting to follow him, I wandered around the living room, eyes lazily scanning the place, noting how there weren't any photographs of his family. Instead, the walls were littered with framed certificates of achievements - first place at a science fair, first place for a competition and so many more, hardly anything less. It seemed a massive contrast to what I had back at home, where the walls had framed pictures of my family through the years. The wall between mine and Ean's room was peppered with spray paint, a hobby Ean picked up when he was a kid and Mom hardly wanted to repaint over what she called 'art'. The more sensible of us, like my Dad and I, called it vandalism. "Make yourself comfortable," Miles told me, coming out of the kitchen with two cups in his hands. He handed one to me and I took it, settling down on the couch. He sat next to me but was careful to put a fair bit of distance between us. His fingers gripped his cup tightly, his other hand curling awkwardly around the armrest next to him. Wanting to put him at ease, I asked lightly, "where's your housekeeper?" Miles looked at me in surprise and I smiled. "Been here before, remember? I came with Ean and had a nice little chat with your Dad." He visibly winced at that. "Sorry - " "Not your fault." " - anyway, she's here on weekends, mostly to keep the place clean. Dad and I don't need her everyday." "So you spend afternoons at home alone most of the time." "Most of the time, yes." "I'd kill for a bit of silence," I mused, setting my cup down on the coffee table in front of me. "It's pretty much noise, noise and more noise back home. Hardly ever get any time to myself too, since we don't usually close the doors and we yell at each other through the walls." He smiled. It was a wistful smile that made something in my heart tug. "Trade lives with me," he demanded playfully. I wasn't a keen person by nature, but even I couldn't miss the subtle essence of truth in his otherwise teasing statement. "I'd like to keep mine, thanks. And you should too; I wouldn't want you any other way," I returned simply. He stayed silent and I reached for the remote on the table, turning the television on. After mindlessly tapping through a couple channels, I found a rerun of The Big Bang Theory airing, and kept it at that channel, knowing he'd probably enjoy it. And just like that first afternoon I'd watched him watch Jeopardy, I fell asleep to the muffled sounds of The Big Bang Theory characters playful jesting in the background, with Miles's attention completely riveted on the screen, his lips curled in a contented tilt that made me feel at ease. It was a far too comfortable feeling that I was fast getting attached to. ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ I supposed I must've fallen asleep, because when I woke, Miles's spot on the couch had been vacated, our cups no longer on the coffee table. The television was still on, a commercial was playing but it had been muted. But if the living room was silent, other places of the house weren't. I could hear muffled, soft voices coming from the sitting room, the one Ean and I had been to when we had first visited Miles's house. Figuring that Miles was probably in there, I got up, pushing aside a cushion that I hadn't realised was placed under my head. Miles had probably done that. The door to the room was ajar, and I caught a brief glimpse of Miles and his father before slinking back behind the shelf, not wanting to be spotted. It was hardly in my nature to peep or pry, but as the voices grew louder, I could hardly help myself. And in the silence of the late afternoon and amidst the tense conversation they were having, I learnt two things: One, that my suspicions had never been too far off - Miles liked me. Two, that his father didn't. Neither was particularly surprising, although the first did send an odd flutter in my chest, like I could literally feel my heart skip a beat. The second didn't faze me at all, I knew that his father had an aversion to me the moment we met and that wasn't going to change anytime soon. I smiled wryly as I overheard his Dad call me unambitious and "far too unbothered to have a decent future" before dismissing Miles out of his study altogether. I was hardly offended, but clearly Miles was, because a second later, he was storming out of the room. His eyes held an unfamiliar shade of emotion that I hadn't ever seen before. A mix of emotion and rebellion, which surprised me and I found myself taking a step back. But he spotted me immediately, and then his expression was soft. He stretched out a hand briefly before realising and letting it fall back to his side. "Hey, you're up," he smiled, but I did not miss the way his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. I gazed at him searchingly, but his expression was shuttered and I hated it. One of the reasons why I liked Miles was that he was an open book, plain and clear for all to see. But his defences had gone up, and it felt like I was staring at a stranger. "Walk me out?" I asked hesitantly. Our positions had been reversed; I was now the skittish one, and he was instilled with an unexpectedly strong side to his character I hadn't seen before. He nodded and I let out a breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding.