In the midst of white

It was the later of the month of November. The snow had long fallen, in its earliest, and everywhere was a vast expanse of white.

The night has long fallen when the three consecutive clangs of the Red Church's bell call out for the end of the day.

An ocean of people slowly began to flood out of the church's giant doors. Their movements and murmurings and whispers echoed, and because of their large number, these echoes almost seemed as if there were the buzzing of bees inside.

Hearing these, Miles furrowed his brows. He was yet to stand up as he waited for the masses to go out completely. He settled himself in an elegant but comfortable position, sitting with his leg over the other, looked down, and closed his eyes as if he was taking a nap.

This posture of him was truly eye-catching.

The soft yellowish lighting of the church allowed the shadows to cast a beautiful contour of his nose and cheeks. With his head bowed, his hair fell and touched the upper half of his face. The contrast of his black hair and pale skin made him seem unreal, and there were even few who couldn't stop their urge and took their phones out for a pic.

Kachak—

"Taking a photo of someone without their consent is a breach of privacy and could be sued for crime."

A raspy voice of an old man entered Miles' ears, and he opened his eyes. Sure enough, it was his father, whom he was more or less waiting for.

At the same time those words were spoken out, the people who took pictures instantly walked away with a guilty yet contented look on their face.

When Miles opened his eyes, there were no more of them around, the only people left are him and his father, as well as several people who are yet to come out or are still aren't done with their businesses.

"... Are you done?" Miles asked with a voice so quiet as if a whisper, as he slowly got up from his seat.

"Is our house too uncomfortable that you'd rather sleep in the church?" His father didn't look past his son's action and immediately tried to scold him.

Miles just shook his head without speaking anymore. Gesturing to his father an invitation to walk before him, with his face saying, 'please'. Like a Butler who waits for his master.

"Sighs.. what are you, a mute?" Because of that, his father has to give up.

"Go home first, help me tell your mother that me and some of my old classmates are going in for a dine. I'd like to have you come with me too, but I know you'll refuse any way." His father continued.

Alex Maxim, Miles' father, has an old friend who works as a higher up in the Red Church. It was currently 6:48 pm, while the church closed at 7 pm. Needless to say, they will have to wait for a few minutes for that friend, and also gather their group.

'Stepmother, you mean?' Miles thought as he ignored his father's remarks and proceeded to say in monotone: "Alright, I'll go first."

After that, he strode off without looking back.

His father was left speechless but can't do anything. He could only shake his head and sigh, "This child..."

Miles got out of the church. Compared to when the bell just sounded, there were barely any people left outside.

The snow began falling again. He suddenly understood why the people earlier were in such a rush. It was because the snow might begin falling any minute.

It might not be the first time Miles saw snowfall, but it was his first time seeing a snowfall — how do you describe it — falling like a light rain, so fast, that it seemed that a person walking in this fall would turn that person into a snowman without any mercy.

He was distraught. He underestimated the snow. He didn't bring an umbrella!

Miles could only stand stiffly by the entrance of the church, exposed to the continuous blows of winter's blood-freezing wind, his face darkening with every second that passed.

Miles finally began considering going back inside the church after a minute to accompany his father.

But before he could do so, he noticed the movement of someone exiting just beside him. He looked at him up and down.

That someone was a man clad in all black from top to toe — even gloves and socks — as what Miles observed — are all black.

He was also a few centimetres taller than Miles, with a handsome side profile and a light brown hair.

The man in black leisurely took out his umbrella — also black, as if the wind nor the snowfall that seemed to last for eternity, doesn't bother him at all — or rather, as if he does not give a fuck about his surroundings at all.

Miles has always been someone introverted and hated talking, but he's someone adept in watching. He could easily notice the smallest details everyone could easily miss. At the same time, he was a very sensitive person in a way that he could easily feel or get a hunch about other people's feelings.

Most people's feelings revolve around sadness, happiness, hatred, love, calmness.. but this was the first time Miles met someone with this.. rather peaceful feels.

Wait— this wasn't important! What's important is that he had to go home!

Fortunately, he didn't space out for more than half a minute. The man in black was just adjusting the angle of his umbrella and was still preparing to set out.

Miles wasn't the type to initiate talk with people, instead the type to ignore people. And him asking for a favour to others— it's impossible! If someone told him he'd try to do so tonight, he'd even snort and ignore him! Life is really full of surprises!

Miles cleared his throat, "Ahem.. Mr.?"

The man noticed him and paused his actions, but he didn't turn around to face Miles.

"Can I... share an umbrella with you?"

There was a slight red on Miles face, either from how long he's been standing there or just shame from asking the other person.

Two seconds passed after Miles uttered those words. The man seemed to be contemplating whether he'd allow so or not and was also inclined to refuse, as what Miles felt from his subsequent pauses.

The temperature was getting colder and colder, and Miles also was getting more and more impatient.

Before Miles could utter another set of words,the man turned his head and glanced at him before turning his gaze back to his umbrella.

The man eyes were a pair of light hazels, but with the shadows the umbrella casted upon him, they seemed to be darker.

Miles understood, this man agreed!

He immediately walked beside the man in black, and both went to walk off amidst the white of the falling snow.

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