A/N: Thanks for the reviews, they honestly make my day!
[5. SUNDAY]
...
He's going to stay at Winston's from now on. His brother has been incredibly hospitable so far, and hasn't questioned his plans at all, but it's been four days, and Miles has a feeling if they had to spend one more night on that flimsy air bed together they'd end up killing each other in their sleep; moving out seemed the sensible option. Hunter let him borrow his old car so he can go back and forth easily, and Miles promised to be back first thing in the morning, before Hunter has to set off for class.
Winston crushes him into a bear hug, a ear-to-ear grin on his face the moment he sees Miles standing in his doorway.
"Man, it's great to see you! How was your flight, when did you arrive?"
Miles tugs at his ear, an embarrassed smirk on his face. "Actually, I've been here since Wednesday. I was bunking in Hunter's dorm."
"What? Should I be offended?" Winston jokes, "You've been here for four days and this is the first I'm hearing of it?"
"Ah, man! It's been a mess, I'll tell you inside…"
Winston leads him through the house. The living room is a decent size, and sporting all the mismatched furniture you would expect in a student house. One of his roommates is back home for the weekend, and the other is out, so the place is quiet. They run up the stairs to Winston's room so Miles can drop his bag, and Miles manages to pilot the conversation towards some mindless chit-chatting (what Winston's been up to, the dreaded rain in London, anything to keep him distracted from the big elephant in the room that is Miles showing up at his door). It works for a little bit, it's been almost an hour when Winston brings up the issue again.
"Look, it's great to see you, man, but what exactly are you doing here in the middle of the term?"
They're down in the kitchen, waiting for a fresh pot of coffee to come through. Miles didn't realise how used he got to drinking tea all the time in the UK till he came back and started ingesting coffee at all hours once again. He looks sheepishly at Winston, scanning his brain for a reasonable excuse. This is precisely why it took him four days to work up the courage to call his best friend and ask if he could crash at his place.
"It's kind of… Ah, Chewy. Let's say it's a family emergency of some sort?"
Winston tenses imperceptibly at his words, and Miles decides right then he can't keep this a secret from him any longer. It's not just that Winston deserved to know, although he clearly does. Miles himself needs to vent with his best friend, if anything.
"I need to tell you something, but I need you to promise me you won't freak out."
"The hell, Miles?"
He's right, Miles's being a dick. He struggles for a moment, internally debating how much it's fair to say while doing right by his sister, but then he discards all caution and decides to wing it. This is Winston, for Heaven's sake, he's known them forever. He'll handle this right.
"It's Frankie," Miles starts. "She's fine, don't freak, she's with Hunter," he rushes to clarify at the widening of Winston's eyes. He takes a deep breath, rubbing a hand over his eyes to stay focused.
"Do you remember that dude she was dating?"
"Mr. Biggest Shot of Québec?" asks Winston, raising an eyebrow. "Sure I do, aren't they living together?"
"Yeah, well, apparently he's an abusive asshole, so there's that."
He sees Winston's face go white in front of him, and he's reminded once again of one of the many reasons they're best friends. Winston truly cares about his family, his siblings. Gee, he's known Frankie since she was four years old. This will be almost as hard for him as it is for Miles.
Miles leans back against the kitchen counter, his palms clasping around the edge of cheap laminate. He drops his gaze to the tiled floor, unable to look Winston in the eyes as he continues. "He hit her, the other day. She drove straight here to Hunter, thank god, and he called me. And here I am."
It's impossible to overstate how difficult it was to put this into words, and yet Miles feels so relieved now that he's said it out loud. Winston hasn't uttered a single sound, and he looks vaguely spaced out. He slumps down on the closest chair, and Miles definitely gets the feeling.
"You can't tell her you know," he stresses. "Please, Winston, I'm serious — I wasn't supposed to tell you."
Winston glances up with a sort of Are You Kidding expression on his face, but then some semblance of understanding flashes through his eyes, and he's back to just looking worried.
"You promise me she's okay?" he asks. "I mean, you know what I mean. Not okay, but...?"
Miles nods slowly, taking a seat next to him at the table.
"I wouldn't be here if she wasn't."
Winston knows it's the truth, because he knows him.
"Do your parents know?"
Miles shakes his head. "Nobody knows. Just Hunter, and me. And now, you."
"Wow. This is some heavy shit, dude."
"Trust me, I know. I tried suggesting she talks to Mum, but she won't listen. Then I tried to convince her to at least call Lola, you know? But she's adamant. I even thought of calling Lola myself, just to make sure she has someone to talk to. But it wouldn't be fair, it's not my place."
Winston nods at him, as if to say he understands. Miles bets he shares his frustration, the urge to do something, to fix things. But Frankie would hate him if he went behind her back to reach other people. And Miles would hate himself, too. He just has to wait for her to be ready, if he really wants to help, he knows this. Patience has never been his strongest suit, though.
"I just wish there was something more I could do," he feebly confesses to his best friend.
Winston looks straight into his eyes, and then he confidently places a hand on Miles's shoulder. "Well, at least you have a place to stay, now. For as long as you need. So, zero worries about that, okay?"
Miles smiles weakly.
"Thanks, Chewy."
Sometimes he just loves this man, so much.
