Obsessed

But here he is - Miles Moralez, another mistake of nature, another blank head with no reason to exist.

Another one.

Miguel tries to start over.

Explain, maybe even get on board.

But the attempts quickly come to an end.

Miles lost his father.

Now this young man looks at least curious. The reaction is quite expected, every muscle in the boy's face spreading out like watercolour on thin paper. It seeps through the mind, displayed in a blur.

Miguel stares silently, arms folded across his chest, eyebrow raised, he doesn't care.

Miles isn't worth his excitement, but even so Miguel can't escape the feeling of helplessness.

Miles is special. He has people close to him, people dear to his heart, he's not alone. He shouldn't be here waiting for support from the one who stopped him.

This isn't where Miles should be, not sitting on cold concrete, not waiting for an apology.

He has to move on, he has to accept, this is his destiny, it's destined for him.

- Stop sitting here," Miguel says hoarsely. Of course, Miles is a child, let him cool down, let him cry. Let him sob behind closed doors, let him keep quiet, let him try to swallow his pain.

Of course, such actions can lead to feral behaviour.

Miles could forget in an instant what his power is for.

But Miguel's holding back, so this stupid kid can do it too.

- Or what? - Miles asked in a low voice.

- I'll strangle you," Miguel spat out, feeling his upper lip twitch involuntarily.

- Go ahead," Miles chuckled, arching an eyebrow lazily. - Curious what your fangs are capable of," Moralez sticks out his lower lip and covers his eyes. He's open-minded. He doesn't care. He's ready to measure.

- No, gilipollas," Miguel chuckles.

- ¿Por qué? - Miles laughs, his voice squeaky, and the boy opens his eyes. His pupils are dilated, tears are imprinted on his eyelids, his lips are bitten, but even now, in his uncomfortable proximity to Miguel, he seems alive.

Magnificent.

A realisation suddenly imprints itself - Miles Moralez cannot become a wild, unbridled animal, this guy will be free.

Free from the rules, he will continue to do the right thing, despite the pain he's caused, he will follow his own path. He won't make the same mistakes Miguel did.

- You want me to kick your arse, you bastard? - A muffled growl could be heard from Miguel's chest, another spark of anger flaring in his heart, but Miles' face showed no sign of anger.

His face is gaunt, his head tilted to the side, wrinkle marks under his eyes. The guy is in no mood for a fight, obviously this kid is waiting for an apology. Somehow Miguel knows, in this fight, he's the loser.

Miles stands up, his legs visibly shaking, his hands smoothing his hair, the young man looks away. Unlike Miguel, he knows his worth.

He watches as Miguel steps closer, as a vicious shadow covers Miles' body, as clawed hands reach for his face to tear it apart.

But who is reaching for whom?

Miguel, blinded by rage.

Or Miles, groping his bulging cheekbones with interest?