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wickedmilo · 3 years ago

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NEEDING GETS YOU DEAD | MILO & EILIDH

PLACE: A street at night TIMING: 2:39 AM SUMMARY: Milo has a chance meeting with Eilidh, neither of them part ways with what they want WRITING PARTNER: @braindeacl CONTENT WARNINGS: Alcohol, addiction

The tires on her trailer took a moment to move, having forgotten how in their slumber. It had been a while since Eilidh needed them to, after all. The pause longer than most visits. Because that’s what all these places were. Just visits. A taste of society, of community, of average life. Before the people grew distant and angry and Fate reminded her the realities of the world. Of course, in true White Crest fashion, it was the plants that grew hateful. A first. And she had delighted in the town’s firsts: a rare place of wonder and mayhem. But Fate was once again telling her it was time to move on. The plants wanted this place and—fuck it—it wasn’t her problem. Let them have it since they wanted it so fucking badly. People had enough.

Eilidh’s only other option being to change course and ram right into the trunk of the Big One. Send a puff of splitters in the air, competing with the pollen. Send them into the fucking ground—buried and screaming with her laughing on top. Only letting it out to feast on its ripeness, for it held enough to match that great size. Her eyes glared and eyes prepared to aim true. It was easy. Even in the dark, when her eyes grew weak, it was too easy. It’s shadow darker than the night, plastered on the sky, almost mocking. Daring her. The thought of knocking it down made her teeth chatter. In excitement, in anger, in hunger.

But! It wasn’t her problem.

Eilidh kept her eyes on the road. Didn’t dare to spare a glance on the horizon. She knew they would find that silhouette. Knew she would correct her course. But, in doing so, she didn’t dare to look beyond anything. Only able to see, only wanting to see, the patch of asphalt her headlights revealed. She barely had enough time to respond to the person crossing. Her foot meeting the floor as she slammed her brakes. Gòrach hissed and Tulip yipped and tires shrieked. And then silence. Until her head shot out the window to do her own shrieking. But it barely made a choke before she realized. “Milo?”

Milo knew he didn’t always have the healthiest coping mechanisms. But regardless, he never felt they were unjustified. White Crest could be a terrifying place. The town was being overtaken by roots, his thirst was burning in the back of his throat, so much stronger than he was used to, and when he let his mind wander, he found himself being drawn to the woods, drawn to the tree he had seen come to life in a way that made him incredibly uncomfortable. It felt as though there was danger lurking in every shadow, watching him, waiting for him to trip and fall. So he had finished the alcohol he had been able to find in his room; an old bottle of gin, and half a can of lukewarm beer. Sufficiently tipsy he had left the apartment to spend a handful of hours making his way from venue to venue, talking people out of drinks, and charming the few bartenders who knew him by name. He was well on his way to being drunk, now. To blissfully forgetting his problems, and their supernatural nature. It was partially why, as he stumbled home, he didn’t check the street for cars, or people. The threats felt so mundane. His body was resilient, difficult to damage. Did it really matter if he got hit? Somebody certainly seemed to think so.

The sound registered with him before the warm light, and smell of burning tires. He looked up, startled but nowhere near as shaken as he probably should be. Taking a casual drag from his cigarette, he stared at the windshield, trying to figure out where he knew the vehicle from. It was only when a familiar face leaned out of the open window that he realised he was looking at Eilidh’s home. It was moving, it was in the road, she was… going somewhere? Why? Squinting against the headlights, lifting a hand to shield his sensitive eyes, the surprise in her voice was obvious. Clearly she hadn’t been planning on running into somebody she knew. Literally, or metaphorically. Suspicion began to creep up his spine, but his thoughts were foggy. He couldn’t organise them. “Are you- where are you going?” He demanded, any awkwardness he should have felt given the tenuous friendship they shared was dampened by the alcohol. His filter wasn’t functioning. “Don’t you have, like… a car or something?”

Eilidh stared. It was weird seeing him. To see in full instead of those fleeting, twisting memories. Only able to capture glimpses, pieces. Their puzzle made complete as he stood before her. A piece of dishevelment, a piece of grumpy, a piece of sweetness under it all. She wanted to smile—the beginnings of one starting its motion. A squint of her eyes and relax of brows and lift of lips. Until they abruptly straightened into something less readable, as her eyes remembered the road. And why they needed to stay on it. Right. She shouldn’t let herself get excited; shouldn’t mend roots in a garden that no longer wanted her. She knew what she needed to do. Those lines on her face settled, tried to make a home. But in pushing that smile down, she miscalculated and pushed too hard. Leaving a hint of a pout on her face. “Away.” And she couldn’t be less vague than that, her intentions as unclear as that answer. She simply was going. And wherever she stopped, she stopped. Just as before, like how she found herself at White Crest. But she doubted the next would be as exciting. She’d just have to deal.

James’ face became visible, but only that. Out through the wall of the trailer facing the truck. The truck that had suddenly stopped for reasons he intended to find out. But only after he checked on the pets and scolded Eilidh for another case of reckless driving. Sure, she could get away with it by herself. But those two were delicate! He had every intention of joining them, following these plans in his head. Until he saw the person in the headlights. Any idea of what to do next turned to jelly. His worried concern shifting to something more bug-eyed. Then those eyes dropped down, they too finding the road very interesting. And he retreated back to the trailer, with Eilidh none the wiser.

Eilidh should’ve left it as that. A simple answer to a simple question. And then made that answer a reality, truck rolling along as if nothing happened. But despite knowing better, she wanted to bring a piece of White Crest with her. Not just a memento as was usual, she wanted something more. A friend. And perhaps his appearance was Fate. Perhaps it was looking kindly on her, for once. “You wanna come?” It slipped out her lips before she had the thought to stop it. She knew the answer would be no. It always was. Maybe not at first, but given time. Time never let anything last, even the strongest bonds. And the two of them had all the time in the world.

Milo was surprised to see the hint of a smile tugging at Eilidh’s lips, but almost as quickly as the affection appeared, the zombie was erasing it from existence. Carefully arranging her expression into something neutral, and almost cold. It was a reminder of why they had grown apart, and though he still wasn’t sure of the specifics, he was too stubborn to be the first person to try and cross the rift between them. “Away?” He echoed incredulously. What was that even supposed to mean? Away could be a trip to Walmart, although he figured she probably wouldn’t take her trailer to buy groceries. “What do you mean, away? Are you leaving town?” He wanted to tell her she couldn’t, but the words seemed to die in his throat. Obviously she could if she wanted to. Eilidh was more than capable of making such a drastic decision, and she had been alive far longer than him. Long enough to grow used to sudden change. Long enough to instigate it when she got bored. Distracted momentarily by the appearance of James, he set his jaw, resisting the urge to wave in greeting. Nobody in this RV wanted to see him, that much was clear. And he didn’t plan on forcing his company.

Catching the moment James realised who was standing in front of the vehicle, he tore his gaze away from the ghost, returning his full attention to Eilidh. “I- what?” It took him a moment too long to understand the implication of what was being asked, and he stared at the zombie, confusion evident on his face. “You won’t even tell me where you’re going, and you’re asking me to come with you?” He laughed, a breathless, uncertain sound. Running a hand through his tangled hair, he shook his head, conveying the fact that he couldn’t believe what he was being told. Maybe he would wake up in the evening and discover it had all been in his head. He could laugh about it with Metzli over a mug of microwaved blood. The thought of his roommate sent a jolt down his spine. He could remember their last conversation about Eilidh, how they had told him they were in love with her. How they had told him she was in love with them back. But you didn’t leave somebody if you loved them. Wasn’t that the entire point? “Does Metzli know you’re out here?” He demanded. He had no way of knowing whether they were going to be honest with him, but hopefully the question would catch her off guard.

Eilidh noticed his shift in attention. Watched as Milo’s eyes drifted to the side, face turning stiff. Her own did in turn, with body following just as quickly. She jerked her head to its opposite position, those alerted eyes looking behind. Threatening to perceive that silhouette and ruining the plan just as it began. But all she saw was her trailer framed by an empty night. Stars choked out by the looming pollen. Another bitter reminder the place was going to shit. Her attention returned to him just as his to her, a question on her lips. A wondering for what he saw. But his own beat her to it. She shrugged to it, face momentarily turning thoughtful. “Can’t ‘cause I dunno yet. Just gonna drive ‘til I find something nice.” She huffed, thoughtfulness replaced with something sour. “Nicer than this.” Her head jerked to the side, noting the surroundings though her eyes did not. They stayed on Milo and the road. Those two potential paths laid before her. To continue on that road as planned—as was planned from the moment she set foot in White Crest. Alone. Or to allow a novelty—to stop and let a friend join.

Eilidh’s eyes tightened, nose scrunching in a flinch. “No.” Answer short and sweet, though the feelings inside were anything but. “But they’ll be fine.” Metzli had proven so before, in those months they had drifted away. She had accepted it; Milo’s too. And even though the two lovers had found each other again, she knew that was where their story would end. And if by some grace Metzli did not want to let her go, she couldn’t let them convince her to stay. The town was sick and lost and better left behind. Still, if it had been Metzli on the road, she’d had offer the same choice to join. And she wished it had been the two of them. But Fate did not put Metzli there. Fate left them away, and in a way that confirmed her suspicions. Their love like the coming spring—beautiful and bright but destined to end. She usually waited until that love drifted away naturally, watching for those first brown leaves. But sometimes winter was sudden like it had been months before. Just as the seasons continued to be. Another sign this place was of abruption. She should follow suit to nature. At least, that’s what she reminded herself, when that choking feeling found its way into her throat. When the sadness found its hold again. And it made her all the more excited for Milo’s coincidental appearance. Because rarely did things happen randomly. No. Maybe this could work. Maybe it could be different. That excitement found itself on her face, as she looked him up and down. Waiting for his answer.

Milo watched Eilidh turn to see what he was staring at, but James had already ducked back inside the trailer. Setting his jaw, he fixed her with the most powerful glare he could muster. There was nothing he could do to intimidate his old friend, but he could at least make it clear how he felt about what they were saying. “You are somewhere nice.” He bit out, crossing his arms in an attempt to emphasise his point. “I mean, White Crest can be pretty fucked up, but you have friends here. You have family here- and what? You’re just gonna abandon them? Like they don’t fucking matter?” Feeling their answer to his question about Metzli hit him like a punch to the chest, the air left his lungs in a sharp huff of breath. Maybe Eilidh didn’t understand how much she meant to the vampire, but he got to witness it first-hand. In the way Metzli smiled, in the way their voice softened when they talked about her, in the way they had quietly confided in him. Metzli had told him about how they loved Eilidh, and about how Eilidh had come to love them right back.

“No?” He echoed. He had intended to sound angry, but even to his own ears he was heartbroken on behalf of his roommate. “You were going to leave without telling Metzli? You’re leaving without telling Metzli? What the fuck, Eilidh? What the fuck are you thinking?” He resisted the urge to march forward and kick the vehicle, knowing it wouldn’t make a whole lot of difference. Swallowing his emotion, he instead tried to imagine this future playing out. Would Metzli be fine if they were ghosted by the woman they loved? Metzli was a complicated person, and he knew they put a lot of value in being accepted. This would be taken as the opposite of acceptance. This wouldn’t be about Eilidh taking a journey, or escaping the roots of a giant evil tree. This, to Metzli, would be pure, unfiltered rejection. And it was unacceptable. “You can’t leave.” He said finally. “There are people here who need you.”

Eilidh didn’t expect him to understand. He was still young, still learning. In time, he would see how the world was made of fleeting moments. And you just had to accept the good as it came, and accepted even more when it went. Still, knowing this, it frustrated her. And it hurt. To hear those words—those doubts thrown back at her with a new voice and face. Old doubts that still festered, trying to trick her away from what she knew was right. A nice pleasantry. A pleasantry that would leave her eventually dead or wanting it. Her lips twitched and curled—reenacting the motions of a snarl. And one did come out, though not in its usual strength. That word came out of lips like it would stop the inevitability of her actions. Family. Every time it came, it spelled disaster for her. Or worse, the others involved. No. She wasn’t going to have a family again. She didn’t want one. And, deep down, she felt she didn’t deserve. Fate seemed to agree, after all.

Everyone would be fine. They had to be. Metzli. Milo. Her… Like Eilidh always was. Off to another town. Waiting for others to fill the cracks in her heart left by ones long lost. Never being able to find the right pieces. “No one needs me. Only wants. Needing gets you dead.” She stared at him, the knowing for what to do next sent a shiver up her spine. And there was a want to stay. To make one last chance of convincing him. To leave with someone instead of just the memory of them. But she couldn’t risk him keeping her there longer. Spelling her death, or worse, hope. “You won’t go with me.” And there was a bitterness to her voice when she said that, almost accusing. But it quickly changed to something calmer. “But you gotta leave soon. This place’s sick. Don’t let it take you with it.” Another pause—another lingering stare. Saving his face to her memory. “Goodbye, Milo.” Her eyes became wet as she rolled up the window. Even more so when she pressed down on the pedal. And drove.

Milo watched Eilidh as a myriad of emotions seemed to cross her features. He wanted to believe she was doubting herself, but he had a creeping suspicion that she might be steeling her resolve. As if to prove his point, she snarled, a quiet sound of frustration that she knew he would hear from where he was standing, before countering his point with such ease, and precision that she left him entirely speechless. What more was there to say? His mind wasn’t working at full capacity, but even sober he wasn’t sure he would have been successful. This had been his chance to protect Metzli from pain in the same way they so often protected him, and he hadn’t measured up to the task. He simply wasn’t good enough. He swallowed, hearing the bitter undertone to Eilidh’s voice when she stated he wasn’t coming with her. He wanted to tell her White Crest had killed him, but given him so many wonderful things in return. He wanted to tell her how much love the town held, how much love he and Metzli still had to offer, but the battle was lost. As she rolled up her window, for a brief second he felt sure she wouldn’t move if he remained where he was, directly in front of the trailer. But she did move, the trailer inching forward, and despite being fully aware of the fact that a hit and run wouldn’t kill him, he definitely didn’t want to know what it felt like to be taken down by a vehicle. Holding his stance for as long as he dared, he eventually stumbled to the sidewalk, staring with disbelief, and an overwhelming sense of regret, as Eilidh and James passed him by.

#c:eilidh #milo and eilidh #alcohol tw #addiction tw

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