I make it back safely to my window and notice that Milo has left my bedroom window open. I hesitate to climb in. I pray that he’s not sitting on my bed waiting for me to come back. It’s something Tris would do to Yve. I half expect him to be asleep in the living area. Instead of waiting for a camera to catch me, I grab the edge and hoist myself up.

Once inside I look around. The lamp in my room is dim, and the bathroom light is off. The living area is pitch black. I still notice Milo’s figure sitting on the couch. His head slowly turns towards me, and I feel goosebumps rise on my arms. I have no idea what to expect him to say. My heart starts pounding when I see him get up. Instead of waiting for him to enter the room, I turn and reach to close my window.

“I hope you had fun,” He says flatly. “Because I did not. Making sure you didn’t get in trouble was a pain in the ass.”

“I didn’t mean for it to go that way.” I mumble.

“How did you expect it to go, then?” He walks all the way into my room and gets as close to me as possible. He doesn’t tower over me, but he’s just tall enough to make the height difference uncomfortable. “Humor me. Convince me not to put you out right now.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” I pause. “Would you?”

“Sailor,” He hisses. “Tell me what you expected.”

“I thought I just would take Yve out and show her the ocean. She didn’t even know it existed really and I thought she’d—”

“I do not care what you thought.” His words are sharp and cold. “You could have gotten yourself killed.”

“But I didn’t—” He steps away from me and slams his fist against the wall. I take a sudden, sharp breath in.

“We are talking to all three of you first thing in the morning. I’m sure Tristayne has yet to yell at Yve. I have spent the last two hours thinking of ways to punish all of you for this.” Milo backs away to the door frame. I open my mouth to say something, but he immediately hushes me. He closes his eyes to try and calm himself. “I'm only like this because I love and care about you. Realize that."

I don’t get a chance to say anything more than that. He isn’t really a violent person. Anyone close to him knows that. To the outsider, it would seem like he would have actually hurt me. He only wants to scare me. It works better than anything else he’s ever tried. I don’t listen to what people say until their actions are ingrained in my head.

Part of me wonders if was burned into me as a child. My mom never knew how to yell. Her disappointment when I misbehaved was just enough. I knew how hard she worked to take care of us. How hard it was that she never had my father around to help. He did bring me with him to family gatherings sometimes because his family wanted him to. I was just a mistake, though. Whenever I misbehaved with him, horrible things would happen. I'm aware that the people around me won't lay a finger on me. It's still enough to startle me.

Mom didn't have the heart to do anything except for sigh. Whenever she was upset, I did anything to make her feel better. Anything to apologize. After we left, something in me changed. I didn't care if people were disappointed. I didn't like them. They took me away from her. Now, only threats of violence, empty or not, will get to me.

It's not taking advantage of my scars. I don't care about the past anymore. When I met Milo, so many things changed. I wasn't angry after that because I realized I had someone to relate to. Someone who didn't see me as just a young soldier. A man who wanted a son just as bad as I wanted a father. We love each other. Understand each other. Piss each other off.

“You start an argument, but you don’t even finish it.” I mutter. I make sure that it’s just quiet enough to evade his ears. I wish I had said it that loud, though. Maybe it’s for the best to leave it for tomorrow. It’ll let us all cool off.