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it’s no secret that miles likes to stay up and do god knows what at night. he’s the prowler. and that means missed calls, late replies, missed dates and so many more. nights when you’re left all alone, hands hugging your own body instead of his, where he’s not mumbling sweet nothings into the crook of your neck. where you’d purposely fall asleep on the couch, so he can come home to you, waiting for him, in the living room, instead of the bedroom.
the first of february, when you two were taking in the breeze of the city on top of the roof, he’d ask you to be his valentine. why asked why he “booked” fairly early, he only answered, “so you don’t keep on waiting for me,”, but the truth is, he doesn’t want to come home to you sulking and giving him the silent treatment for a whole week for forgetting valentine’s. he’s done that mistake once, and you’ve made sure he’s learnt his lesson. another thing is, he’s afraid of you. you could glare at him for less than 3 seconds and he’d stop whatever he’s doing, and start to analyse what he did wrong so he could apologise.
tonight, the 13th of february, 11:48 pm, sat on the couch of your shared apartment with your cat perched on your lap. there’s dinner waiting for him, made when you were bored out of your mind. the plants have been watered and all there is left to do is wait for him to come home, so you two could spend the time together. he already asked me to be his valentine, so what do i have to worry about? he’s probably late, you thought. staring off, mind blank. not really. the cat in your lap purrs, when your fingers scratch the small area between it’s ears. mars, a name chosen by miles when he was going through tough times, since mars, the planet itself has potential, and hope. he thought this cat would bring him that, and it turns out, when you came into his life, you did just that. not like mars didn’t give him hope or anything.
11:56 pm. no text, no calls, no knocks. he hasn’t texted all day. he’s busy, you tell yourself. but he didn’t promise he’d come home tonight anyway. he kissed you goodbye at 4 am and told you he’ll be back soon.
11:59 pm. the tv is starting to sound distorted, you can’t pay attention to it anymore as your eyelids were heavy with sleep. fluttering between fighting to stay awake, checking the time and paying close attention to the sound of miles unlocking the door.
12:0 something. your eyes had already been coaxed into sleeping. your cat hops off your lap, instead waiting by the door. as you accepted your fate again this year, sleeping it away, the door finally unlocks. coming through was miles, holding a bouquet of red roses, a small little plushie and your favourite food. at first, you tried your very hardest not to fall for it. to stir awake, and tell him it’s okay to be late for another valentine’s. you looked through the slits of your eyelids, seeing him scanning your intently before he went to place the things he got for you on the dining table.
you see him making his way back to you, his arms crossed on his chest. “’kay, guess i’ll just have to spend my valentine’s all alone then.” he taunted, walking ever so slowly away from you. you give in to it. you sat up, sulking still. your stirring made him turn around, a sly smirk plastered on his face. he made his way back to you, holding your face in his hand, smooching your right cheek before pulling away to look at you. “happy valentine’s day, ma.” he muttered, before you rolled your eyes, stood up in front of him in which he decided your waist would be the perfect place to rest his hands on. you returned his greeting, hooking your hands on the back of his neck. you stared at him intently, furrowing your brows and scanning his features that you’ll never fail to love.
“happy,” smooch. “valentine’s” smooch. “day.”
he pulled you closer to him by your waist, looking down at you. “you thought i wasn’t gonna come home right?” he taunted, breaking into laughter when you fail to look into his eyes, proving his words right. you pull away from him, nudging him away and made your way to the dining table where he laid all of the things earlier. he followed you, like your shadow, looking for your reaction.
you smiled, turned to him and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “thank you, angel.” he shrugged it off, prideful. deep inside, he’s just as giddy as she is, but he thinks the prowler is too cool for that. you picked up the flowers, admiring all the delicate petals. miles looked as well, proud of his purchase. leaning closer to him, you gave him another smooch, “that’s for the flowers,” smooch. “for this little guy” points at the plushie, smooch. “and for the food.” smooch. a long one to top it off. he pulls away from you, a glint in his eyes shining mischievously. “who said the food was for you?” he was quickly shut up when your face dropped, completely devoid of emotion, just to tease him.