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Summary
You weren't interesting, you weren't loud, or striking, or anything out of the usual.
No, you were quiet, shy even, hiding in the shadows, staying silent in the debriefs until somebody asked you to speak, you carried yourself with no calm though, always squirming on your place, fidgeting with your fingers or the hem of your shirt, always restless.
Miles noticed all of this.
He didn't even wanted to– he just...did, for some reason. It upsets him, how much you seem to walk into his mind, how he has to resist from grabbing you and pinning you down when he walks by you, how his fangs ache with the need to bite when he catches a glimpse of your neck, how crazy you drive him when he sees how fucking small you are next to him, how sweet you smell most of the time.
It's driving him insane.