It’s not even Scott who stands there anymore.
It’s someone else—wonderful and lovely and maybe my favourite person on the planet who’s looking at me like he’s never seen me before.
“Off base?” Miller draws out the words, like each of those seven letters is a struggle.
“Miller,” I breathe, slapping at the tears sticking to my cheeks. “How long have you been—”
“I didn’t think, uh—I thought we were—on the same page. I wouldn’t waive my clause and you’d—” He scrapes his hands through his hair, sending the waves every which way, before he rocks forward on his feet and shoves his hands in his pockets. “But I guess, uh, yeah. I was the one ... off base.”
“No—you’re not,” I start, lurching forward, but the corners of his eyes crinkle with a wince, and I take a step backwards, my heel bumping up against the low wall of the triceratops exhibit. “Scott was just—”
“Being Scott?” he finishes flatly.
“Yes.” I nod fervently.
“What about you then? When are you finally just ... going to be you?” He shakes his head, all sadness and resignation. “Gotta leave him behind eventually, Ren. Whether he wants to act like that all the time or not.” He drags a hand down his face. “I thought ... we weren’t pretending, and I guess, stupid of me, really—”
“You’re not stupid,” I force out, before my words drop into a pleading whisper. “Please, stop saying that.”
“No, this, uh—this makes sense.” He rocks forward on his feet again, words half a choked laugh. “It wasn’t pretend, but it was still ... practice. Why would you—someone like you—” He waves his tattooed hand down the silhouette of my dress, like I’m some sort of whole, wonderful, unattainable thing, when I think, really, I’m still just pieces on the floor. “Want to be with someone like me long term? Why would you want to stay? It makes sense ... I’m not smart like him and—”
“I don’t want him! I don’t want Scott or anyone like him!” My voice rises, cracking with a sob. “I don’t want that job, I don’t want anything but—”
“I’m not sure you know what you want, Ren.” He doesn’t let me finish, and the word rings endlessly through me.
You, you,you.
I don’t want anything but you.
He gives his head a final shake before he throws me a tired smile. “And that’s, uh, that’s okay. Thought for a second we ... wanted the same things.” He blows out a breath into his fist before pulling a folded piece of paper from his suit jacket, holding it out towards me between two fingers. “Made you this.”
“Miller—”
But he hands it to me, wordlessly, before his brows give a final, half-hearted lift, and he turns, leaving me standing alone in the middle of that exhibit dedicated to living before extinction where I think he actually brought me back to life all those weeks ago.
It feels heavier than a piece of paper should in my hands, and I think the weight of it and falling for him and maybe losing him is what has me sinking to my feet, dropping against the exhibit wall.
I unfold the paper with shaking fingers, and I can’t breathe when I see his untidy scrawl, scribbled across the page.
Miller’s List of Reasons Why He Thinks Ren Should Always Be Ren
The snort you make when you laugh might be whatever Mozart or Beethoven and all those guys were talking about
You leave your shit everywhere. You should. Leave it all over me
You know how in Alaska they have those thirty days of night? You’re the sun on the thirty-first morning
You’re the best teammate I’ve ever had (even though you can only catch underhand)
I’ve never been in love, but I think you’re the best reason to give it a shot
I don’t think there’s ever been or ever will be an extinction event in the entire history of the world, and maybe the whole universe, that feels like falling for Miller and losing him all in the same breath.
Miller
I don’t go back to my place.
I go somewhere I haven’t been in months.
