Always and Forever, My Friend (Miles Morales [Dim. 42] x F! Reader)

Chapter Six

In the silence of his room, Miles sat.  He simply listened to the static of his Bluetooth headphones as he stared down at his masterpiece.  He observed every stroke he had made, from the colors of the background to the most minute highlights that no one, besides himself, would recognize.  He was a perfectionist, just as his uncle taught him to be, which came in handy with projects such as this.

And yet, amidst the perfection of his work of art, he could feel the weight of the imperfection in his life that he couldn't control weighing on his chest.  Well, suppose it shouldn't be called "imperfection", rather it should be called frustrations, or more plainly, obstacles.

Take Y/n's father for example.  He was one of the major obstacles in his life.  Strange concept, it would seem, for another person's father to be an "imperfection".  But it wasn't her father himself, but the way that he fear mongered and ruled over his family members as if he were a dictator and they were nothing more than peasants to be crushed under his heel.  Or perhaps he was just upset that her father somehow came home at the perfect time to cut his and Y/n's call short.

In this moment, it was most definitely the latter.

Fucking asshole... he thought as he glared down at his creation.  Always getting in the damn way, making her life miserable...

He leaned back in his chair and sighed, closing his eyes as he listened to the white noise of his headphones.  A sudden wave of tiredness washed over him as he relaxed, becoming aware of the aches in his back and hands and wrists. 

That was one of the worst parts about taking a break when it came to art.  Just as you start getting comfortable, the pain starts to surface, and you remember why its better to not stop, or to just not start the project at all.

He slid his headphones off his head and stood up with a groan, walking out of his room and into the main space of his home.  He didn't expect anyone to be home, so he decided to wander to the kitchen and make himself a some food.  After all, due to being consumed by his artwork, he hadn't eaten all day, so he was definitely hungry.  Much to his surprise, however, he found his mom in the kitchen, cooking over the stove and humming to herself.

"I didn't know you were home," Miles said bluntly, standing in the middle of the kitchen with a blank stare.

Rio turned around at the sound of her son's voice, a bit stunned at the fact that he was suddenly there.  However, the look on her face soon morphed to that of sweetness, a warm smile lightening her features.

"My shift finished early," she explained, looking over her shoulder as she spoke.  "And they told me that they didn't need me at the hospital tonight.  So I thought it would be nice to make us dinner.  You know, like the good times!"

Miles nodded, but his expression remained the same as he sat down at the table and watched his mom as she cooked.

"Cool," was all he mumbled before he allowed himself to get lost in his exhaustion, closing his eyes with a huff.

Rio glanced back at her son. Even after all these years, she didn't know how to respond to Miles when he was cold and calloused as he was in this moment. But she didn't blame him for being this way. After all he'd been through, it was completely understandable for him to be like this. Still, she couldn't help but hope that that happy little boy would eventually come back.

"Ay, hijo, who was that you were talking to earlier?" Rio asked in an attempt to get the conversation rolling, raising her eyebrow with a smirk.

Miles opened his eyes and looked at his mom with a chuckle. "Just Y/n, ma, no need to worry," he reassured, his voice hinted with humor, but still mostly dead.