Full Of Sorrys But Never Apologized
You stared down at your hands, completely still and shocked.
You only came into Miles' room after his mom let you in, and you didn't snoop, you never did.
You never needed too. Miles was honest with you.
You merely came to talk because he called you, saying he wanted to apologize for missing your date and he had a surprise for you.
Maybe the surprise was real, they always were, but the relationship was not.
Now, as you held the Prowler suit in your hands, you realized everything, every missed date, call, text and every time you asked what he did for work, was a lie.
You had watched the Prowler hurt, steal and once even kill, maybe more when you didn't see. Miles knew you didn't like the Prowler,
Only now do you remember the look in his eye, on his face and how he grew rigid whenever he came up on TV, or every time you said something.
You could snap out of your stare at the suit, barely when you heard his footsteps, the door on turn and open with a click.
You could feel his stare, imagining the smile that always was on his face when he looked at you.
Now you could barely stomach turning to look at him.
"Oye, llegaste antes, amor." Miles said, his smile small as you could hear him chuckle on his breath, walking closer.
Your back was to him before you finally turned around, barely able to look at him through your own anger.
"Care to explain what this is?" You barely let him get close, holding up the Prowler suit.
Miles stared at you confused for a moment, looking at the suit before it finally dawned on him.
You knew.
The one thing he needed you to never know.
You knew.
"Were you looking through my shit?" Miles asked, scoffing in his own anger as you returned it with a scowl.
"Well, you're the one who left it lying on the floor like a dumbass!" You put it nicely, tossing the costume into his chest as he caught it, staring down at it for a second.
"You're the goddamn Prowler?" You could barely mutter, staring at who you once thought was a loving boyfriend, but now someone you barely know.
"(Name)- I had to." Miles tried to explain, losing his words for once, losing every preparation he had in case this happened.
Because it wasn't supposed to happen.
"You had to do what?" You scoffed, looking at him with something he had never seen towards him, anger and maybe disgust.
"Become some criminal in the goddamn night? The hell are you? Batman?!" You said, throwing your hands up as Miles rolled his eyes.
"I do it to protect you, my mom, Uncle Aaron! It's how I get money for us all!" Miles tried to justify.
"You think that's how it's supposed to go?! Miles, if you're the Prowler, that means everytime someone on TV got hurt, robbed or even fucking killed, was you!" You exclaimed, barely holding yourself through it all.
"Yeah, I think it is! It's how life is, ma! I do what I have to do! And I didn't see you complaining about the money that I got from it when I got you shit."
You laughed humorously at his words, sarcastically clapping your hands in fake praise.
"Wow! Great job, Miles! You won this whole thing!" You gave a fake smile, watching as his face contorted into annoyance.
"I never told you to buy me shit. I told you to stop buying me stuff because it made me feel guilty about all the money you were spending." You explained thoroughly, Miles crossing his arms over his chest.
"I spent it because I care about you, I wanted to show that! Being the Prowler makes that happen." Miles said, watching as you sighed.
"Being the Prowler, makes you a criminal. I love you, yeah, but I've watched you, under that mask," You pointed to the very mask in his hands.
"Choke a man in front of me, in front of his kid, in a robbery you knew affected me. I know that man, his kid I babysat, and I watched you choke him to death."
You said, tears filling your eyes out of anger as Miles couldn't help but look down in almost shame.
"You held me when I cried after I got back from his funeral. You bought me dinner and you bought me a gift after that to 'make me feel better'." You said, your voice choked.
"You buy that crap with the money you got from killing him?" You asked, quietly as you waited for an answer.
Miles couldn't lie, so he nodded.
You could feel your heart almost cracking in two. The feeling in your chest is ever-lasting.
You nodded, looking away from him and around his room, every night you spent here was spent in his arms, the arms that you thought were safe, maybe for you, but not to others he harmed, and that was what scared you.
If he could do it to them, what about you?
"...I can't do this." You muttered, shaking your head as you wiped your tears, refusing to cry because of him, walking quickly to brush past him.
Miles finally could look up, barely able to look at you as you reached for the handle, quickly grabbing your hand to keep you with him.
"(Name), no-" Miles tried, not wanting you to walk out that door and possibly leave him for good.
You tugged your hand away from Miles, only turning to look at him with your hand still on the handle, never wavering.
"So, that's just- that's just it? Does this mean it's over, or what? Is it permanent?" Miles barely got out, not wanting to accept it.
Miles didn't want to be left alone, he was alone after his dad died, you helped just by being around him.
But you were walking out the door, out on him.
And he didn't know if he could get you back when you did.
He just knew it was happening, and he didn't want to accept it.
You barely were able to look at Miles, feeling something bubbling up your throat, your eyes refusing to cry but watered.
You could barely talk, but you needed to. You needed to get out and away.
Even if it meant forever.
"...I don't know, Miles." You admitted, Miles staring into your eyes with his own heartbreak, wanting to desperately keep you with him like once before.
But now, Miles was forced to watch as you turned away, opening the door quickly, almost running out and down the hall.
Miles didn't move from where he stood, hearing the apartment door open, never wavering as it shut.
Miles didn't move for a long time. He was almost scared too. Something he hadn't been in a while.
He held his Prowler suit in his hands, once thinking of it as a means of protection for everyone he loved, but now resentment and something that kept what could've been.
Miles stayed there for who knows how long.
Because if he moved, he would need to look around and see you were gone.
And he didn't want to accept that you were gone.