Milo stared.
Elias.
The name, deep and resonant as it was, felt almost too mundane for a being with horns, a tail, and wolf-like ears. He'd half-expected something with more syllables, perhaps a series of clicks and growls. But Elias. It was simple, solid. And the disdain in those dark grass-green eyes, even through the haze of pain, was utterly human in its expression.
"Elias, huh?" Milo finally managed, pulling his hand away from the bandaged arm. "Well, nice to finally put a name to the… uh… mythical creature currently occupying my living room. I'm Milo." He offered a small, awkward wave.
Elias's gaze didn't waver, piercing Milo with an intensity that made the hair on his arms prickle. He didn't return the greeting, or offer any thanks for the impromptu first-aid. Just that unwavering stare, cold and assessing. It was clear he wasn't thrilled to be there.
"You're in Westkilo, Calin City," Milo continued, trying to fill the sudden void of silence. "My apartment. Decent place. Not too flashy, but it's got good light. And it's dry. Which is more than I can say for that alley you were slumming in." He gestured vaguely towards the window where the rain still hammered.
A low, deep sigh, almost imperceptible, escaped Elias. It wasn't a sound of gratitude, but of profound weariness, perhaps even annoyance. His gaze drifted around the living room, taking in the comfortable sofa, the large flat-screen TV, the well-stocked bookshelves. His wolf-like ears, still damp, twitched slightly, as if processing every minute sound in the room.
"You speak English," Milo observed, because that was his brain's coping mechanism – point out the obvious and slightly irritating. "That's convenient. Any other fun little facts about you? Like, are you allergic to water? Because you're pretty soaked. Or, you know, being touched? Because I just practically gave you a full body exam." He paused, a hopeful, yet slightly challenging, glint in his eye. "You could say thank you, by the way. I just hauled your horned, tailed, fluffy-eared self out of a potential hypothermia situation."
Elias closed his eyes for a long moment, the intricate scar a stark line against his pale skin. When he opened them again, the disdain was even more pronounced. His gaze was glacial, as if Milo were an insignificant insect buzzing too loudly.
"I do not require your assistance," Elias stated, his voice still deep, but now steadier, laced with an unnerving calm that made it sound almost like a threat. "Nor your prattling."
Milo's jaw dropped slightly. "Prattling? Prattling? I just saved your scaled hide, you ungrateful… you overgrown… you prattling mythical being!" He stood up, hands on his hips, ignoring the sharp twinge in his back. "You're lucky I'm a good Samaritan, Elias, because frankly, you're not exactly winning any popularity contests right now."
Elias pushed himself up slowly, his movements stiff but deliberate. He didn't acknowledge Milo's outburst, but his gaze narrowed, the intensity in those green eyes growing. He reached for the heavy coat Milo had removed, pulling it back around his shoulders with a slow, almost regal motion. The action seemed to restore a piece of his cold, aloof demeanor.
"I will take my leave,"
Elias rumbled, already trying to push himself to his feet, a faint tremor running through his frame. He clearly wasn't fully recovered.
"Whoa, hold your horses, dragon-boy!"
Milo quickly moved to block his path, stepping between Elias and the door. "You are not going anywhere in this state. You're still bleeding, you're clearly not stable, and it's still raining like a biblical flood out there. Also, you're going to get yourself noticed, and then what? News headlines? 'Man with horns, tail, and wolf ears spotted in Westkilo, Calin City – More at 11!'" Milo exaggerated, flapping his hands dramatically.
Elias stopped, his head tilted slightly, those dark green eyes fixed on Milo, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them. It wasn't exactly curiosity, more like a prolonged, analytical assessment. For a moment, Milo thought he saw a spark of something beyond coldness, a fleeting consideration. Then, the icy mask returned.
"I am Elias," he stated again, his voice flat, "and I require nothing from you." He took another step forward, testing his weight, clearly intending to push past Milo.
Milo braced himself, refusing to budge. "Yeah, yeah, Elias, I got it. You're a lone wolf. Or, you know, a lone dragon-wolf hybrid. But right now, you're an injured lone dragon-wolf hybrid, and I'm not letting you stumble back out into that rain. So you can either sit down, take some pain meds, and dry off, or you can try to walk out that door and collapse in a puddle, and then I'll have to haul your ungrateful ass back in here again. Your call."
For a long, tense moment, the two men simply stared at each other, the air crackling with unspoken defiance. The cold, disdainful gaze of Elias met the annoying, yet stubbornly caring, stare of Milo. The only sound was the relentless rain against the windows of the apartment, a witness to their unlikely standoff.