Miles Morales Normal Clothes Novels & Stories

Milagros went into the bathroom first. She stood under the hot water for several minutes, letting the tension run down her back like something her body had been holding in for too long. Then she put on her pale pink pajamas, made of a light, soft fabric, the kind meant for peaceful nights… although with Ayden nearby, peace was never entirely guaranteed. He went in after her and came out wearing navy shorts and a white T-shirt that clung to his shoulders and chest. Milagros tried not to look at him for too long.

Dante shrugged and slipped his phone into his pocket. Michael and Nathan squealed, and I held back a groan. Just one night, and they were already demanding heaven and earth. I was going to have to curb this behaviour before it got bigger than this. “Mari Donna staff will arrive in the next hour with clothes and the like. Choose any amount of what you guys like from their collection.” ‘Oh my… Did he mean Mari Donna?! The Mari Donna?!’ I almost choked on air. They were the biggest clothes store in LA. Everything they sold was designer, high-class, and expensive. Yet he said we should pick as much as we wanted, like it was common thrift.

"Who is it? If it's those carolers from the church again, tell them we already bought our tickets to the Christmas concert!" "I'm not sure, dear," Mr Morales called back, still looking at Annie and Killian with polite confusion. "It's a young couple." Mrs Morales appeared behind her husband, and Annie's heart cracked clean in half. She was smaller than Annie remembered. So much smaller. Her hair, which she'd always worn long and dark and usually in a braid, was now cut into a neat bob that framed her face, and it was streaked with grey colour. She had on an apron over her clothes—a floral print with ruffles, and she was wiping her hands on a dish towel.

She scoffed. "Annoying friend." I chuckled. "Hey, ladies," Miles' familiar voice got our attention. He is dressed in a blue shirt and black jeans, looking so cute. Imogen has to be aware of his good looks. "Miles, hey," I said, smiling. "What the fuck do you want?" Imogen snapped, making me look at her. She raised her brows at him. "Imogen," I whispered. She threw me a glare. I heaved a a sigh.