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“The dragon things? I made a joke about your space and you went all gloomy.”
“I’m not gloomy.” Rowan shook his head. “No more than usual.”
“Maybe, but your eyes did the dragon thing when I said it,” Milo said. “You’re supposed to be teaching me, so…is this one of the things? Am I not supposed to insult other people’s homes? What if they’re super ugly though? Like…you know how those rich people have those weird-ass chairs that look like torture devices and toilet bowls that sing when you flush? Am I just supposed to smile and take it? Am I supposed to sing along? With the toilet?”
Rowan stared.
How did one person produce so many words unprompted?
“No,” Rowan said.
“NO TO WHAT? Insulting? Or singing? Because I can’t sing, so either way someone is in for some suffering.”
“No to everything that came out of your mouth,” Rowan said. “Something is seriously wrong with you.”
“You’re an awful teacher.”
“I’m not a teacher! Awful or any other kind.”
“Why did you agree to this, then?” Milo asked.
“Agree to what?” Rowan burst out in exasperation. “I don’t even know what’s happening right now.”
“Yes, you do. We had a talk at the coffeeshop and you said dragons have all these rules and hoards and I had to know the whole thing to be a dragon and I said then you could teach me and you gave me your address so I could come here. So you could teach me. It’s literally the plan we made. Together.”
He pointed a finger between the two of them, staring at Rowan as if he were mentally challenged.
“I have no memory of agreeing to this,” Rowan said.
“Well you did. And I’m here now, so…teach me. Is there an initiation? Do I get hazed? Do I have to crawl for a week or, like, wear a French maid outfit? Or eat the still-beating heart of my enemy?”
Rowan stared again.
“What the fuck?” he asked eventually, and Milo shrugged. “You have to be registered at the Dragonarium. Your breed, lineage, hoard, all of that.”
“Paperwork?” Milo gave a full-body shudder.
“Paperwork.” Rowan nodded.
“You sure I can’t just eat the still-beating heart of my enemy?” Milo asked.
“Yes, I’m sure,” Rowan said slowly.
“Right! So I learn to dragon properly, do the paperwork, and once my name is there, I can get a place for my hoard at the shiny new place you’re building.”
“Broad strokes, but I guess.”
Milo beamed, bouncing on his toes. “See? I’m already learning so much! What else?”
“I still haven’t said I’m doing it,” Rowan grumbled.
Milo huffed. “Fine! I’ll just grab whatever dragon I come across first and ask them for help.”
Rowan watched in pure horror as Milo turned his back to the living room and started walking toward the front door. To go ask someone else for help. To have someone else guide him through his first shift. To show someone else that level of trust.
“WAIT!” he said before he could stop himself. His skin prickled and his insides turned at the image of Milo with a faceless, breedless dragon in Rowan’s place.
“Yeeeees?” Milo spun on his socked feet slowly, eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hair. There was a smirk on his face that told Rowan he already knew he’d won.
