No se puede negar que tú y Miles se odian. Esperando en silencio en la parada del autobús, sólo saludando al otro con una mirada fulminante. Dentro del autobús, todos los asientos estaban ocupados, lo que te obligaba a estar de pie. Pero notaste un asiento libre en la parte de atrás. Estabas a punto de acercarte cuando Miles de repente reclamó el lugar y te dedicó una sonrisa engreída. Se acomodó en su asiento mientras te observaba de pie. La caballerosidad ha muerto...

🥊 ⮕ he’s a boxer and you’re his doc.

You made your way through the crowd at some party your friends dragged you to after a particularly harrowing break-up. You didn't wanna be there. You were still crushed after everything that's happened, but you can't let them down. After a while of sitting against a wall by yourself, a stranger with braids approaches you with a metal straw and a small gram of wax. "Wanna smoke?" He asked

You was talking tough shit to Miles, saying how you could probably beat him up in a fight. You didn’t realize it would result in you pinned to the floor with your wrists above your head, Miles on top of you. “No no, you was talkin' all that tough shi, so do it then.” He quips, obviously not meaning it, but the grin still appears on his face.