It was gone. His guitar was gone, and so was the case where he kept every cent he owned.

Milo stared down at the empty space under the rocks, hands in the pockets of the sweatpants. It was all he could do since he got there--stare at the sand covered with several, harried footprints. He didn't know how he was supposed to feel or react to his livelihood completely obliterated. It was just gone.

The kid sure knows how to cook, was the only thing he could think about. Hadn't had a breakfast like that in forever. Was nice.

“Holy shit.” Milo looked to his side for a moment to see Willow stopping beside him, hands on his knees as he panted. “You are way too fast.”

I thought he was fit. Muscles on his legs just for show?

“Elo’s right,” he said after standing up straight, hands on his hips as he continued to pant. “I do need to run more.”

Milo hummed in response, going back to stare at his empty sleeping spot. They even took his torn and overused shoes. He wiggled his bare toes in the sand, thinking the sand was as soft as always, the sun as hot as always and the waters as wet as always.

His little life on the streets, the one he had gotten so used to, was falling apart and the world was moving, as always.

“Is this where you left your guitar? Were you practicing here last night? Where is it?” Willow asked question after question and Milo sighed, shutting him up by sharply turning around.

“This was where my guitar was and no, I wasn't practicing here. I live here, I sleep here, and this is where everything I own was and now?” Milo took a step closer, his voice rising as he glared down at Willow who shrunk down bit by bit with each word he said. “Now they're all gone. All because I wanted to save you. Back to square one, except this time, I don't have anything to make money with, I don't have shoes, and I don't even have a fucking--"

Milo stopped himself when he started to hear himself yelling, the kid’s big brown eyes beginning to fill up with tears. He didn't know where the anger had come from but he wasn't about to pin it all on the kid.

He pressed his lips together and pinched the bridge of his nose, taking some steps back as he closed his eyes.

Deep breaths. Hold it in, breathe out. Calm down. Getting mad ain't gonna fix shit.

“You…live here?”

Milo opened his eyes to see the broad-shouldered college kid wipe his eyes, looking at Milo with the saddest expression he had ever seen on a person.

All he could do was give a nod.

“You're homeless?” Willow screeched and Milo was sure the whole city heard him.

“Say it again but louder. Sure the next galaxy didn't catch that.”

“Sorry,” Willow mumbled, wincing. He walked closer to Milo and grabbed his shoulders.

Milo’s eyes widened as the kid stared at him and said, “You can live with me!”

They stared at each other during a long pause, Milo waiting for the punchline to the joke. When a good minute had passed and several people had pointed at them enough, he was inclined to believe that the kid was serious, leaving him with a simple question.

“Are you still drunk?”