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    Summary

    When Miguel closed and locked the front door it cut off the porch light, leaving them in soft shadow with the scent and sound of rain all around. They were silent for a long stretch, Miles looking studiously at the floor and Miguel trying to study him with little to no success. Finally Miguel sighed and told the kid to stay put while he grabbed some dry clothes and a towel, flipping lights on as he went.

    When he came back Miles had wriggled his way out of his hoodie and was holding the sodden garment out in front of himself as it continued to drip onto the floor.

    “Just drop it. I’ll throw everything in the dryer and-” His words died on his tongue. Because when Miles turned towards him, the ‘little trouble’ he’d run into became obvious. And it wasn’t so little.

    Language:
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