Pablo
?
Miles sat there motionless even after Pablo stomped up the stairs and looked down on him with the most displeasing look he could muster, even if Miles couldn’t see it.
Going to be like that, huh?
"Stand up." Pablo nudged Miles's knee aside until his leg flopped and skidded like a dead fish to a lower step. Goddamn depressing pile of shit needed acting lessons.
Should have known it was fake from the start. Scissors shouldn't hurt anyone the way Miles was using them, but he couldn’t think logically the second Miles put those ridiculous things to his neck. Didn’t matter anymore. Fake or not, Miles was out of line.
Pablo grabbed Miles by the throat of his coat and started to pick him up, bunching it and twisting the thick fabric in his grasp. Miles was obviously alert and resisting by making his ass a cinderblock. Too easy. He was nothing compared to the barrels, and he probably didn’t weigh more than he did ten years ago.
When Pablo lifted his weight off the floor, Miles’s eyelids flew open and he tried to get away by smacking Pablo’s knuckles like a fucking sissy.
"Hey!"
He scrambled to balance, then solidified his feet on the landing.
"Fuck. Stop. I'm up.” He grabbed at Pablo’s hand, using his bony fingers to separate them.
“Geez…" Miles huffed.
There was no way Miles was getting out of Pablo’s clutches while Pablo was capable of squeezing rocks into diamonds with his fist. Never tried though.
Straightening, Miles stood upright on the stair above Pablo. Eye level, and staring directly back at him. Rarely saw Miles this close and definitely not face to face. With this sardine-sized mother-fucker, it was more like head to chin. The scar on the left side of his jaw was more prominent than usual and made him look tough for someone who had just threatened his neck. He had a faint smell of sweat on him, but it was nothing compared to Garrett. Or Pablo. He had a blank expression. Tired, squinty, brown and blue eyes reflected Pablo’s big, dumb face.
He placed his hand on Pablo’s and kept it there instead of fighting. It was gentle. Unexpected.
"You going to let me go?"
Right. That’s all he wanted. Didn’t understand his offense or why Pablo was upset at all.
"Do you think that was funny?" Pablo's voice came out as a growl.
Miles sneered at it and attempted to pull away again with all of his pathetic might, nearly yanking Pablo forward.
"It was until you got all mad." He plucked one of Pablo's fingers off of his coat, bending them backward until Pablo let go.
With only a flight of steps to the first floor behind him, Pablo grabbed the railing and Miles’s arm for support, trying to slow him down. But Miles had been possessed by a bodybuilder. There was no better explanation.
"It was a dumb joke. But, yeah. I shouldn't have faked you out," Miles added, prying off Pablo’s last finger.
Pablo fanned his hand, blowing on his fingers to soothe sore tissue Miles was trying to break with his new-found super strength. “Yeah, you shouldn't have. That was the stupidest thing you've ever done.”
Apparently Miles didn’t care for the sentiment because he just scrunched his brows and frowned. Then he fixed his jacket and turned upstairs to leave, looking back at Pablo to get in one more word.
"Sorry."
His "Sorry" sounded so goddamn condescending. It was obvious he didn't get it at all. They couldn’t leave things here, not with both of them upset, and not with Miles misunderstanding what should be common sense. If Pablo could just. Fucking talk.
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
Without a second to waste, Pablo grabbed Miles’s arm he had draped at his side, keeping a hold on him once again to prevent his escape.
Miles turned, startled.
"You can't do that shit, Miles.” Pablo told him. Miles’s face started to ease but froze like he wanted to hear more. “You can't pretend to hurt yourself. Put rocks in my food, throw things at me, whatever your stupid bullshit for the day. But don't you ever pretend to hurt yourself."
That was it. Everything that needed to be said and Miles needed to comprehend. That or there was nothing else he could say with his heart clogging his throat.
Miles slowly pivoted toward Pablo and his mouth started to move but no words were coming out. Shit. Emi could've just dumped his ass and Pablo was yelling at him. Was that it?
Then he spoke, "Alright. I just—" he began his excuses.
"What the hell were you thinking anyway? This is the worst day for that fucking joke."
Not kidding. Since Miles and Emi were dating, even before that, Miles had been constantly going on in that disgusting way that Emi was his reason to live. Like nothing else mattered. He was completely out of line pulling this charade after his Cass confession to her.
“Yeah… I’m sorry.” His voice was too quiet and his face softened his worry lines into smoothed perfection. The way Miles always looked. No longer the tough guy he made himself out to be with the pronounced scar overpowering his features. His eyes darted back and forth, then locked in, the blue in his eyes sharper when he didn't blink.
“Don’t you get it?” Pablo no longer had an edge to his voice. It was just weak. Pitiful. He searched Miles’s expression for understanding, and Miles stared as though he were taking it in, giving Pablo extra attention he didn't know what to do with.
"After all that last night, and that message," he continued. If Emi did leave him, and Pablo weren’t here, maybe Miles really would do something stupid.
"I thought—"
Cold. A sudden cool pressure held his nose, squeezing his nostrils closed.
"Beep."
Couldn’t breathe. Fuck. Pablo whacked whatever the hell it was away from his nose, knocking Miles's hand aside, and the open pair of scissors with it.
Miles.
The metal tool he held had tips that weren’t pointed. What the hell was that? Not like any scissors Pablo had seen before.
"You're too serious," that ignorant prick said with a devious half-smile.
Pablo rubbed his nose. "You trying to cut my fucking nose off?" It was more shocking than anything. It hadn’t done anything really but pinch and release, but it would set his miserable ass straight if he thought it hurt.
His bastard-sized smile only got wider when Pablo yelled at him. It was as if he knew he could win him over with those utterly deplorable dimples even gods would be jealous of.
Oh. Pablo’s face felt tight, mouth curved into a grin. No. Shit. Absolutely not. Activate bitch face.
"Nah. They’re not sharp or anything. I found ‘em upstairs by a bunch of doctor stuff.” Miles grabbed his sleeve with the scissor-things, “Look.” He lifted his arm with them, jerking it around as if it were a puppet. Impressive. Now all he needed to do was use it to smack himself so Pablo didn’t have to.
“See? They just grab stuff.” He twirled those scissor-like things again in a display nobody cared about, then held them out to Pablo. They were definitely not scissors. Smaller than any he’d seen, the tips not bladed at all. Just metal twisted on both ends like clamps.
Miles turned it in his hand and closed it. "I’m not sure what it is. Do you want to try it?"
"Depends. Do you want me to squeeze your eyeballs out of their sockets with them? Because I really want to right now."
Miles clasped the metal doom-pinchers to his chest and rubbed his neck, maybe because he was embarrassed or because it hurt. Even from where Pablo was standing, he could see the area of his neck he assaulted, a patch of pink with a flaming red ring where he had pinched it. It was the kind of hurt that left a bruise.
“Yeah. I’m sorry about that whole thing. I just wanted to show you what these could do. They’re pretty cool, right?”
He kept smiling, but it was faker than an Inert with a wig in the city. Stood out like a sore dick. He got so far into his role of pretend-agony that he was actually hurting himself. He was going to need some of Sansi’s magic healing cream when they got back home.
He shoved the fake scissors into Pablo's face. Miles obviously wanted Pablo to be as excited about them as he was. That wasn’t going to happen.
"You don't want to give those to me. I'll toss them out the window."
Miles quickly withdrew them and began to pet them as if they weren’t a steel weapon with murderous intentions. “It’s okay. Pablo’s a fussy jerk, but he'll warm up.” Great. Can’t believe Pablo was giving Garrett grief and his best friend was this guy.
Holding them open to his chin, Miles made a funny looking beard with them that fell off his face. "I can think of so many things to do with these." With his head low, he gazed up at Pablo with a menacing gleam in his eyes. "So many things." Of course. Pablo was about to be on the butt-end of a twisted slapstick comedy sketch. It was always shenanigans with Miles to lighten the mood of just about any moment. And that was fine. Most of the time, anyway.
"You keep those away from me. Or I'm snapping them in half."
Miles slid the wannabe-scissors into his pocket. "Yep. I know."
Didn't notice before, but with Miles's coat loose at his shoulders, his black shirt poked through. No. Is that?
"Hey. Did you dress up?"
*** Character-specific extras included in post author's note*
Thank you for reading!
[Extra] Pablo Explains:
Pablo’s Pawp Fruit Smoothie
Ingredients:
Just kidding. I’m going to tell you about grandma and how I came about this recipe first.
Well, the story is, I was just sitting there at the dining table staring at pawpaw fruits in a basket Emi had brought back and no one was touching. I thought about making them into a smoothie.
I made one.
It didn’t turn out great.
The real list of ingredients:
- Pawpaw fruit
- Acorn water
Before you begin, find pawps. Another word for them is pawpaw fruit, but pawp is less stupid. If you don’t know where to find them, I’m sure they’re growing on a tree or bush or something. What? Emi always brings them back in a basket and I have no idea where the fuck she’s getting them from.
Step 1. Pick a fruit.
For real. It should be ready if it’s a little soft when you squeeze it, but not so much it explodes fruit guts into your hand. If it’s hard as a rock, how do you expect to turn it into a smoothie? It isn’t ready.
Step 2. Cut it open.
Just need one of those dull knives. There’s usually a pretty big steel one in the kitchen Sansi threatens people with-That one’s good enough for me.
You’ll need to scoop out the yellow part to use for the smoothie. Put it in something to mix with liquid. I don’t recommend using a plate.
Also, don’t eat the seeds. Or do. I don’t give a shit if your stomach hates you for it.
Step 3. Add stuff.
- Acorn water. Here’s the part where I make you read another recipe so you can make the smoothie. Weren’t expecting that were you?
- Soak nuts
- Crush nuts
- Drain nuts
That’s it. That’s how you get nut water.
You can add other stuff too.
- Syrup if you want to get fancy.
- More soaked nuts if you like nuts.
Stir it all together until it smells like a mistake. Probably shouldn’t have mixed nuts and fruit.
Step 4. Drink it.
You can always choose not to and feed the ground instead. No one will judge you. Except me. Because it’s my recipe, asshole.
It’s a bit thick and sweet. It’s not terrible. Just not good.
Are you seriously still here? Can’t believe you read all that. Who the fuck reads recipes for entertainment? Stick around and I’ll tell you my skin care routine.