I'll Love You Till The End.

1/1

The rusty tin roof was usually untouched, left the way it always was. Of course, when it rained, the water would gather in a shallow pool, with little flakes of rust floating at the top carelessly. It was quite like that now actually. The sky was pure and untarnished, not a single cloud in sight, the vibrant blue seemingly stretching on for miles, which, come to think of it, it probably did. Yet even though there were no clouds - no rain, no pitter patter of thousands of tiny droplets of water, each hitting the corrugated steel with a satisfying 'splat' - the water still pooled in the indents, and the familiar sound of water hitting the roof could be heard. As could the sniffling of the boy who had taken it upon himself to perch himself on the roof, legs tucked underneath him, but with one battered converse trainer dangling down, in what would have been a careless manner if his distress wasn't so clearly etched onto his face.

He despised the days or, increasingly often, nights, when he got like this. When he got so worked up that his only escape was to drop everything, to ignore his brothers' complaints that they would tell his mother, to put everything else on hold, and to run. He could run as far as his scrawny little legs would carry him, in whichever direction he liked, and he could have any destination in his mind, but somehow, he would always end up here.

It was nothing special, just an old shed or something similar. He wasn't really sure what it was if he was honest. It was larger than a shed, and the roof was flat, giving him a nice vantage point. It was just a place he came any time things got the better of him, or any time he was upset, or even just any time he let anything get to him. It was his own private place where he could finally let all the emotions he'd been keeping bottled up escape.

Normally he'd seek refuge there for trivial things. Any little tick that might set him off. He knew he was supposed to be tougher, but what could he do? He was a wise kid, not only by academic standards, but common sense too. It was something you picked up living in a big city, and when you live in the largest city in the country, you're bound to learn a thing or two. Although it was nice to know he could stand his ground if needs be, it didn't make him any more of a man. He was still just a boy, a teenager, little more than a child, and still a good few years from adulthood.

He sniffled again, casting his mind back to the hours beforehand. Before he'd stormed off, the tears leaking from his eyes against his will. They'd had an argument. They being him and... well... his boyfriend. Boyfriend? Ex-boyfriend? He wasn't even sure anymore.

"You know what, fuck you. Fuck you, Kevin Miles."

The words were spat with venom as they always were, but there was something different about them this time. Usually there was some hesitation, some indication that he didn't really mean them, but this time he seemed so sure of himself. Normally Kev would be able to calm him down with a few words. Maybe poke fun of the Scottish twang to his accent. Little things, and they'd laugh it off.

"Oh, aye," the Scottish boy scoffed, shaking his head. "It's my fault. Of course."

"Well, it's not my fault, is it? I try and I fucking try, but it just won't work with you, will it?" Harry hissed.

"You try?" Kev wasn't sure whether to laugh or just let go of everything, go off his head, and regret it later. "You might
think you try, but you don't. You might think you care about me, but you don't. The only person you care about is yourself, and you know what? I'm fucking sick of it. It's always left to me to try and fix things, and this time, that's it. I'm done. I give up on you, Harry, I really do."

And with that, he stormed out, slamming the front door in anger as he went. He was done. He really was.


Arguments were a regular occurrence in their relationship. Often over ridiculous things that they'd be embarrassed to admit to. It never progressed further than a disagreement though, and for that, he was thankful. He could almost guarantee that if it came to an actual fight - none of the crippling words that they usually hurled at each other - he would win. He couldn't tell you who was physically stronger, but if he had to guess, he'd say Harry probably would be. Yet it was something in his mentality. He wasn't actually from Glasgow, but he still had a sort of Glaswegian mindset. If someone hits you, you hit them back harder, and if they hit you again, you teach them a lesson and make sure they think twice before coming near you again.

It had just about been the final straw today. The tension had been building up for weeks, months maybe. They knew from the moment they met that they had two very contrasting personalities, but neither of them fully realised just how badly that could've affected their friendship first, and their whole relationship. They were great mates, of course, but there was a constant conflict, as though deep down, a part of them was determined to destroy things and it was tearing them apart.

Love is complicated. It can sometimes be like a two headed viper. You may cut off one head, one side of your problems, and you'll think you're safe, but even whilst you're doing that, you may not know it, but you're slowly being poisoned, and someday you'll wake up and realise that all your attempts at resistance were futile. Sometimes you just never win.

The wind picked up a little, tossing leaves around and swirling them in circles. The boy shivered involuntarily and cursed himself for leaving the house in just a t-shirt. He poised himself, ready to jump back down off the roof, but froze when he heard a soft rustling. He froze for a second, pricking his ears up at the sound. It could have easily been an animal, perhaps a bird, but he shifted backwards anyway, out of sight, just in case.

He sat there, huddled up, hiding himself from whoever might have been there. He kept an eye out, looking straight ahead, watching for any movement whatsoever. In fact he was so preoccupied by this that he didn't hear the sounds of trainers scuffing against the wall as someone tried to climb it, or the faint thunk as their fingers clutched onto the roof. He didn't notice anything, actually, until he felt the metal shift beneath him, and he turned to see the other boy watching him nervously. He went to move, but the boy beside him stopped him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Stop!" he blurted out quickly. "I mean... please don't go, Kev." He loosened his grip ever so slightly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said, I just..." He stopped, at a loss for words. He ran his hands through his hair awkwardly. "I know things are hard, and hell, I know we've fucked up so many times, but I promise I'll try harder, I promise. We can make this work, Kev, we -"

He was silenced by a pair of lips on his own, and before he could even process what was happening, he was kissing back. Things might not always work out the way they wanted them to, but they refused to give up. Sometimes in love, you've just gotta take a chance.
♠ ♠ ♠
I read a few Mileford fics the other night and this happened and I am really not sorry
idk I got sad and wrote this and I wanted to make it all sad too but then it was like no let's not do that

(this is really really bad and took ages to write and I haven't updated anything recently and I'm sorry I suck)