Midas read his lips before flicking his eyes back up. “I also heard stories about this feral kid who used to follow him around.”
Wren’s hand stilled.
“Sounded annoying. I couldn’t think of anything worse. But some other people also said that if you brought it up to him and made fun of that feral kid then you’d get it.”
Wren couldn’t breathe past the knives in his throat as faded memories flittered behind his eyes. He swiped them from the air and locked them back behind the cage he’d kept them in. “I’m sure that kid could have taken care of himself.”
Midas snorted and closed his eyes. “I’m sure he could. Sometimes protecting someone isn’t about thinking they can’t protect themselves though. It’s because they can’t stand to see the other person hurt.”
With that profound statement, the subject dropped.
Wren knew Midas wouldn’t bring it up again or try and get it out of him in a roundabout way. If Wren wanted it dropped, Midas dropped it, but not before seeing right through to the heart of something and calling it out.
Usually existence was comfortable and easy in Midas’s presence. Wren oftentimes found himself gravitating his way when their lone ships passed in the night. Which had led him to take refuge in Midas’s room tonight, like many nights before.
But it was times like these that Wren was reminded that Midas saw too much, even though he was around the least.
“There better not be fifty animals under this cover when I lift it,” Midas signed after some time had passed.
The change in conversation was welcome, and Wren found the corner of his mouth rising in a small smirk. Midas popped an eye open to catch it, his expression filled with brotherly promises of retribution if he ruined another set of expensive sheets with claw marks.
Wren stretched the neck of his already stretched-out hoodie farther, revealing Noodle’s flat yellow head tucked against his collarbone. “Just this darling.”
Blu was a given.
Midas read his lips then looked the snake over, not recoiling in fear at the vivid patterns that had been cursed onto Noodle’s skin to make him look ‘cool.’ Animal curses could be tricky to break—sometimes it was better to leave them to ensure the health of the animal.
“I suppose it’s a nice-looking belt,” Midas said eventually.
Wren gasped and raised his fist, laying a protective hand over Noodle’s precious head even though he knew Midas was joking. Midas smirked back, closing his eyes again despite the threat of violence.
Wren tracedA-S-S-H-O-L-Eon Midas’s arm, then followed it up with a punch for good measure.
Midas grunted and shot a glare at him, clutching his forearm for a moment before signing, “Vicious animal.”
Wren gave him a sunny smile. “Why, thank you.”
“Go slither into someone else’s bed.”
“Black talks in his sleep about dead people…and he kicks.” Wren curled his lip. “The rest are all occupied.Loudlyoccupied.”
Midas matched his disgust and shuddered. “I’m glad I lost my hearing.”
Wren laughed. He knew deep down Midas couldn’t be as cavalier about the ‘incident’ as he acted, but laughing was better than crying. “I don’t know if we all thought through this whole living-together-forever situation.”
Midas rolled his eyes. “Who said we had a choice with Hart and Fix around?”
“Hart tried to put one of those toddler leashes on me once,” Wren mused.
“How did that go?”
“I chewed through it.”
“Of course you did.” Midas snorted, his eyelids already drooping.
“You can sleep,” Wren said. “I’ll entertain myself.”
Midas slanted him a look. “With my things.”
