sol. [ the word sounds punched out of him. milo stares at vikram once he steps into view, seemingly unfussed on his meandering path to the front desk. ]
iām here for you. [ the realization dawns on him as it tumbles out of his mouth, a sharp, nagging fragment of a thought that lodges firmly into his foggy head. heās been looking for him: apollo, his fellow olympian, missing in action. here. his hand reaches for the one toying with his suit, clutching at vikās fingers because heās warm and solid even through his gloves and miloās been so unmoored throughout this hopeless search. he finally has something to hold onto.
he lets out a breath that shutters out of his chest, a wispy sound on the verge of another. ignoring the warning notifications about his vitals, milo retracts his helmet into the rest of his suit to get a good look at him. itās been ages since heās seen those warm brown eyes, the loose curls in his hair. and itās been even longer since heās gotten to see vikram like this, less like the end of a knot thatās been completely frayed.
between them milo probably looks worse for wear, sallow bags underneath his eyes. stubble lines his face. his brows twitch together in confusion. ]
lost inā what are you talking about? [ unfortunate that miloās version of the nineties is off by a few millennia. ] itās me, milo. demeter. weāreā [ although even he begins to sound uncertain, eyes darting about vikramās features in search of any recognition there. his touch skirts down vikramās forearm to grasp him closer to his elbow. ] what are you doing here?
no subject
iām here for you. [ the realization dawns on him as it tumbles out of his mouth, a sharp, nagging fragment of a thought that lodges firmly into his foggy head. heās been looking for him: apollo, his fellow olympian, missing in action. here. his hand reaches for the one toying with his suit, clutching at vikās fingers because heās warm and solid even through his gloves and miloās been so unmoored throughout this hopeless search. he finally has something to hold onto.
he lets out a breath that shutters out of his chest, a wispy sound on the verge of another. ignoring the warning notifications about his vitals, milo retracts his helmet into the rest of his suit to get a good look at him. itās been ages since heās seen those warm brown eyes, the loose curls in his hair. and itās been even longer since heās gotten to see vikram like this, less like the end of a knot thatās been completely frayed.
between them milo probably looks worse for wear, sallow bags underneath his eyes. stubble lines his face. his brows twitch together in confusion. ]
lost inā what are you talking about? [ unfortunate that miloās version of the nineties is off by a few millennia. ] itās me, milo. demeter. weāreā [ although even he begins to sound uncertain, eyes darting about vikramās features in search of any recognition there. his touch skirts down vikramās forearm to grasp him closer to his elbow. ] what are you doing here?