Page 93 of Shifter Omegaverse AU

Anabelle would have gotten a kick out of that one. She was the one who taught Milo to use acronyms and silly tricks to remember phrases and keywords. It was how they’d gotten through high school and some of the harder classes in community college. It even helped them remember orders at the diner and was useful for some of the tougher business acronyms their boss would throw around in the office.

But most importantly, it had helped Milo make Ray smile after everything went down with Andrew. Just like so much to do with Anabelle, it was a gift that kept on giving even after she was…

“She’s…she’s gone,” Milo sobbed, surprised that their tear ducts had anything left in them.

It wasn’t like Milo had never said those two words before. They’d had to say it countless times when dealing with the banks, the insurance agencies, and the funeral home. They had even said it to Rowan when they met, but for the first time, they looked straight down into the chasm as they said it, and instead of fog, all that came next were tears.

“She’s gone,” Milo sobbed again, and Rowan tightened his arms around their back. “And you’ll never get to meet her. I’ll…I’ll never get to tell her that I…I found my fated mate…the…the love of my life. I’ll never get to…to thank her…for teaching me what it means to love and…to be loved.”

Rowan's breath came out in a shaky gust, and he skimmed his nose down Milo’s neck, pausing for just a beat before pressing his nose firmly against Milo’s scent gland.

He smelled like pine and the vast open expanse of the sky. He smelled like promise and hope and a future that wouldn’t have Anabelle in it but would be filled with a celebration of everything she’d left behind—including Milo and the life they wanted to live to the absolute fullest in her honor.

“I love you,” Milo said, just to make sure that hadn’t somehow gotten lost amidst the tears and hiccupping and snot. “I know it might seem soon, but I feel like it’s been building this whole time.”

Rowan nuzzled his nose against Milo’s scent gland before placing a soft kiss on it and pulling back. His irises were a beautiful swirl of yellow and brown, and he stared deep into Milo’s eyes as he whispered, “I love you, too, baby.”

Milo’s pony whinnied so loudly, Milo had to shush them so they could hear Rowan’s next words.

“And I am so, so sorry for your loss. I know there isn’t anything I can do or say to take that pain away from you, but I promise, I’m here. Even with a blanket between us, I’m here.”

Milo wanted to stay here, curled up in their love’s warm embrace, but their pony had had enough of all the crying. They nickered excitedly, tossing their head this way and that.

“I…actually had an idea. Or to be honest, my pony had an idea,” Milo said, and Rowan hummed in question. “I wanted to tell you yesterday and then again this morning, but I’ve just been…sad, I guess, and not really in the mood to shift, but–”

Milo coughed as a few stray tears ran into their mouth. They tried to raise their hands to rub them away, but they were caught in the blanket.

“Oh, sorry,” Rowan said, releasing them and rearranging himself so he was sitting next to Milo, the blanket draped tastefully over his lap.

Milo ran both hands down their face a few times, and their pony whinnied impatiently, gnashing their teeth and being utterly dramatic. The idea was sound; Milo just wasn’t sure how to go from holding Rowan’s hawk, to crying all over him, to—

“Would you want to brush my pony?” Milo blurted out, and their pony snorted triumphantly. Rowan’s brows drew together, and Milo hurried to explain. “Ethel and Ray do it all the time. It’s supposed to be therapeutic or meditative or—”

Or exactly like what had happened to Milo as they carefully picked out Rowan’s molted feathers.

“Or…?” Rowan prompted, and Milo shook their head.

“I think it’s supposed to be a way to connect with yourself and the animal—or shifter—you’re grooming. My pony loves it, and I—we were wondering if maybe you would like it, since it doesn’t involve actually touching me—us.”

Milo’s pony was steadily rising to the surface, causing Milo’s head to grow heavy and their thoughts to blur together.

“I would love to,” Rowan said, and that was all Milo’s pony needed to hear.

They jumped off the couch, effortlessly flew up the stairs two at a time to grab their bag, and hurried back downstairs, only to find Rowan still sitting wide-eyed on the couch.

“Come on, then,” Milo said, gesturing for him to follow before practically falling out the door and down the front steps.

It was a good thing Rowan had already seen them naked, because Milo’s pony spurred them to strip out of their clothes before digging through their bag. Based on the loud grunt Rowan gave from the doorway, Milo assumed he was getting a nice eyeful as they bent in half to retrieve their brush and some apples from their bag. Their pony didn’t have time for any sort of tomfoolery, though. The second Milo placed the brush and apples on the ground and their hands were empty, their pony burst out.

Since they were still semi-vertical, their pony ended up stumbling forward a few steps. They came to a stop right in front of a very surprised looking Rowan, who was desperately trying to hold his new blanket skirt in place.

The air around the cabin stilled, as if the entire forest was holding its breath.

Milo urged their pony to wait, but it was unnecessary. Their pony knew how to handle their fated mate. They loved him just as much as Milo did. They stood there, with their head slightly bent, and waited for Rowan to come to them.

It took longer than either of them would have liked, but Rowan slowly stepped forward, holding out his hand like he had a sugar cube or an apple slice for them.

He didn’t, of course, and once again, their pony knew what to do. If it had been Ray or Ethel, they would have licked his hand, but they didn’t want to overwhelm him. Not everyone liked pony kisses, so instead, Milo’s pony ducked their head and pressed their forehead into his hand.