speakeasy | How It Could Have Gone

“Shove over, you git. Share the duuna.” Miles muttered at Ky, who was already in bed, and heaped with two duunas, and a quilt. Fire-mages. Give them anything close to below freezing and they started complaining. Although, if Ky was starting to feel the summons…
“Thought you were pissed at me and staying at your mum’s?” Ky murmured, sleepily.
“Venke is in the guestroom already, and I don’t like sleeping on her couch.”
“She made you go for a walk, didn’t she.”
“At least five miles into the woods and back. Is there further destruction in the back woods?”
“It is more then likely.”
Ky was like a space heater, and Miles relaxed into the nest of blankets. Wiggling around to find a good spot, he propped himself up on one side and poked at Ky until he allowed himself to be spooned.
“I’m still pissed at you.” Miles murmured into the back of his neck, breath tickling the short hairs at Ky’s hairline.
“And I don’t agree with you. But I know.” Ky murmured back, relaxing into his embrace.
“We can totally whoop your mom’s ass.”
“I doubt in, but I will entertain suggestions in the morning.”