Dreaming Chords, tag Miro

[Mikah Hart]

"Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry
You don't know how lovely you are
I had to find you, tell you I need you
Tell you I set you apart."

A voice; soft, yet sweet to the ear sang, accompanied by a simple acoustic. It rang softly through the auditorium, and yet, no one was upon the stage. It clung to the darkened room, drifting around the seats, tickling the mural of the ceiling with its chords.

"Tell me your secrets and ask me your questions
Oh, let's go back to the start
Running in circles, coming up tails
Heads on a science apart."

The guitar stopped for a moment, as the musician holding it corrected his chord, and replayed the phrase, working through his inexperience. Once... twice. The eight lines of the song were worked and picked at, touched up and refined. For a moment, a few strums continued, as though deciding the next chord progression, the next few lines.

A sigh. Yet, it was not one of vain, but simple exhaustion. But where was this mysterious musician? Not too many knew of Mikah's hidden sanctuary, because only a few of the school's performers actually knew the workings behind the stage. The raven haired teen had hidden himself down in the pit, and a little beyond the floor of the stage itself, reclining on a sofa that had been hidden down there. Obviously some of the performers of past shows had gotten a little lazy while waiting for their turn to be propelled up through the floor of the stage for their grand entrances. It hadn't taken Mikah long to find the place, and make himself home. The privacy was nice, especially when he wanted to sing his own written lyrics.

His voice was wonderful, yet Mikah didn't believe so. He was proud of his playing, although he was rather new to playing guitar. But to have a gift for singing was something that he didn't like flaunting, or showing others. But he did love to sing, so, here he was holed up underneath the stage, chilling out on an old sofa, thinking hard as to his next composition. Mikah deserted his guitar upon the floor, choosing instead to prop up his feet on the couch. It didn't take long for him to close his eyes, attempting to calculate and think on his new chords. He wasn't asleep exactly, although it might appear to anyone whom might walk in. Although, if he were left for too long, sleep might just catch him.

His black locks cascaded over his eyelashes as he lay there calmly. The music soon left his mind as something else that had been lingering for nearly a week came back into his mind. Unconsciously, Mikah's hand moved near his heart, where he could still feel a warm aura controlling his own wild inferno of power. It was still hard to believe that he had not had an outburst in over a week now. His hands were now free of his usual bandages, his red calloused hands free to breath for once. They contrasted deeply with his naturally pale skin. A contrast that Mikah never often showed to people, seeing as they were usually not in a state worth being free of aloes and white strips.

He had Miro to thank for that. And yet, he hadn't seen the guy in a nearly week.

Mikah sighed lightly as he turned his body inward, his face pressed against the back of the couch, trying to relax. He had only just met Miro last week, yet already he felt unnerved that they hadn't seen once another at all. They had a connection, a bond with their first meeting that Mikah hadn't experienced before with his other friends. Yet, was this bond due to Miro's grasp of his inner flame? Or was it something different. It confused Mikah, yet, he was comforted that Miro did say that he would help Mikah with his control. That meant that they would see one another again.

Mikah began to drift, dispite his best efforts. The day had been long, but at least he was at peace here underneath the stage that he so longed to perform on.

(lyrics from Coldplay's 'The Scientist')

[Miro]

It had been a considerably long week for Miro. Classes homework, pictures, blah blah blah. His power had slowly returned, he didn't often use it besides for minimal things. He couldn't do much besides call animals to him, any way. Only because that required no skill. So long as you were confident, ad knew the names and what they meant and all that lovely shit. So he'd call forth various animals from all corners of the city, if only just to pet them, speaking was another skill entirely, that required actual knowledge of the language, and being able to speak it fluently.

And so, when the day came that Miro finally found himself void of any necessities. What better to do than go to the auditorium, see if any movies were showing. Oh yes, that would be fun. Lovely amounts of fun. So the boy donned a black button up shirt. Only, instead of buttons it was laced and, being the daring male he was, he wore no undershirt, allowing a strip of pale skin from chest to stomach to show through the gaps between the crosses of the blood red ribbons that held the shirt together. The same ribbons holding his sleeves, elbow down, together.

The top of the shirt had no lacing so everything from about the middle of his breast bone up was showing, because of the large V the shirt created. But the real reason why he liked it was because of the collar, shorter than a normal one and perminatly sticking straight up, reaching about his chin. His hair, black today, he'd figured that fun little trick out on his own, was messy and jagged and splayed up at a variety of angles. His pants were a rich, dark blue, with sparkling silver seams, around which the denim had faded to a light grey-ish blue.

As the male entered the auditorium, golden brown eye flickering around, taking in his surroundings. He'd gotten a black eye patch in the market place to cover the other, it freaked a lot of people out apparently, and besides, he loved feeling like a pirate. Even if he wasn't a little old for that phase. But the soft tap of the combat boots he wore paused when he heard a soft, near angelic voice and guitar ring dimly through the room. Now just to locate it...

He ducked through a small door to the under stage room Miro smirked, the light from the crack in the trap door lighting up the dust and smoke of the "room" and falling right onto the boy on the sofa, brightning up him and the rich colored sofa, leaving everything else in black and white. Miro raised the camera to his eye. click.......click

"You know, not that you're not always, but you look absolutely beautiful right now... The light, the colors, the look on your face when you play guitar.." Maybe it was his lack of social experience but Miro seemed to think that was a perfectly normal statement that any one would say to any one else. That point being proven by the way he said it, sort of like some one might say, "I like coffee." But that's just what made him.. Well him.

[Mikah Hart]

It was strange, how conscious Mikah was of the warm feeling within his chest, a warm aura encasing his heart, his soul, his inner flame. The sensation of having that ball of tangible power in his chest was often noticed by Mikah as he continued on with his classes, met new friends, and continued to live in Atlantis. The heavy weight upon his chest, oddly enough, was more comforting that he could have ever imagined.

Mikah allowed his eyelids to droop for a few moments, before forcing them back open in his attempts to remain awake. He didn't want to fall asleep down here, for naps of his were known to last for hours. If he did drift, the teen probably wouldn't wake up until past dinner, or worse, after curfew. Last thing he wanted was to have to sneak his way back to the dorms, where he'd probably get lost in the massive web of halls in the large school. It had already happened a few times, although not while he was napping in the auditorium. Mikah's eyes tempted another droop, to which, this time, was thwarted by another,

"You know, not that you're not always, but you look absolutely beautiful right now... The light, the colors, the look on your face when you play guitar.."

Mikah's eyes snapped open, a spark glowing within his azure gaze as the familiar voice struck his ear. The words brought an embarassed red to his cheeks as the teen scoffed lightly. But within himself, the boy was slightly pleased.

"Were you eavedropping on me Miro? Honestly. If you wanted to listen, you could have just asked me to play for you." Mikah refrained from putting any emphasis on the word 'play', not wanting to draw attention to the fact that he too, had been singing alongside his strumming hand.

Mikah eyed Miro's curiously styled shirt for a moment, taking in the odd taste, and yet, the make of Miro's whole outfit just seemed to fit him, and it worked together. Pushing his legs off from the second seat of the couch, the teen made room for Miro to join him. Moving his guitar off from his lap, the teen looked curiously at his friend, whom he had not spoken with in nearly a week. That whole week Mikah had never felt so deprived. Miro gave him attention, but not the type that Mikah knew so well from his 24/7 attachment to his mom. No, this was an attention that made Mikah crave more, not that he would ever mention it.

[Miro]

A smooth, deep chuckle rolled forth from Miro's lips as the male moved to plop down on the sofa, next to Mikah. The male propped his feet up on a simple wooden chair a yard or so away then slouched back against the soft sofa, letting it sink in and almost curl around him. "Mmm, most people say that you can't have a sofa that's too soft, well this one, I think it's reaching that point." He smirked and rolled his head to the side, "So, Mr. Hart, would you just play for me? Or was that really an angel I heard singing earlier? Because really, if you've got the talent you've gotta put it together. Can't have Peanut butter and Jelly with out the bread, can you?"

Again, he wasn't flirting, didn't even think it was close to flirting, Miro just had no social skills. Even if he did his brain had probably been fried beyond belief so it wouldn't matter anyhow, they'd all have disappeared after two years in the institute. No if ands or buts about it, he'd seen it happen more than once. Quite often, really. But really, that is enough of that. Past, history, said and done and gone, not to be touched, changed or modified. Just learned from.

"I wasn't dropping no eeves, though, I promise." His head rolled to the side and a warm, inviting smile grew on his pale, plush lips. That had to be one of his favorite movies, and books for that matter. Though it was quite the novel to get through. Language wise and description wise. All that grandy-dandy stuff.

"So, Mr. Hart, how's that working out for you." As if to point out what he meant one long fingered, nimble hand reached out, the very tips pressing gently against the male's chest. His eye didn't leave Mikah's for a second, gaging the boy's reaction. There was a slight spike of warmth when his fingers made contact, and Miro felt the pull of his magic inside, trying to go back, yearning to return to it's home again. But he wouldn't let it, and to ensure that he pulled his hand away again, giving it a few shakes, as if some residue had managed to stick to his fingers.

"So, do you need a touch up? Or are you okay? It certainly doesn't feel as strong as usual.. And if you let it peel off all the way it'll take even more energy than before to case it back up again. Just doing a new coat a significant amount easier."

[Mikah Hart]

Mikah laughed lightly as Miro jumped on the couch next to him, agreeing fully of the couch's rather comfy nature. that's why he liked it, and why he loved coming down here in the first place. Not only was it a private place, but that couch was heaven. It may be old, but that deep red piece of furniture was well bought. If it didn't belong their under the auditorium's stage, than Mikah would probably drag it back with him once he left Atlantis.

Yet, Mikah could not see himself anywhere but at Atlantis now. It was his home, and a place where his life had finally made a turn for the better. He didn't want to leave.

"So, Mr. Hart, would you just play for me? Or was that really an angel I heard singing earlier? Because really, if you've got the talent you've gotta put it together. Can't have Peanut butter and Jelly with out the bread, can you?"

Wonderful, his voice was discovered. Mikah felt his face redden deeply as he grasped his guitar, bringing it close to himself. He really did want to play for Miro, yet never had Mikah felt so put on the spot before. For a moment, he hesitated, and then let his fingers caress their homely strings. After a few chords, Mikah let his voice intertwine with his composition, repeating what her had been working on before Miro had come to sit with him. As he finished the eighth line, Mikah trailed off, smiling sheepishly. In an attempt to fill the silence, the teen spoke,

"Well, It's not exactly finished, obviously. I mean, It's just a rough, it's not all that great." Babbling on, the boy sighed. As the quiet began to settle in once more, Miro's voice then broke the silence,

"So, Mr. Hart, how's that working out for you."

To clarify his words, Miro's hand moved forward, his fingertips resting upon the left of Mikah's chest. The boy felt his breath catch slightly as his heart unexpectedly fluttered, weakly trying to restart itself. The boy couldn't have been any more red in teh face by now as his eyes locked on with Miro's. The power within Mikah sparked cheerfully at it's owner's reappearance, and yet, the moment it did, Miro pulled his hand away. Miro shook his hand slightly, to which Mikah angled his brow up curiously. Had it been a bad thing for Miro to have touched him so? The idea almost hurt his feelings.

"I think it should be alright," Mikah stated slowly after Miro's inquiry. The teen still felt slightly put out from Miro's reaction, but he made his attempts to hide that inner hurt. Instead,. the teen smiled lightly,

"It's worked great, I mean, really. And look." The teen ehld out his own unencased hands. Obviously it was supposed to be a good thing, that his hands were not bound with white any longer, and yet, his real hands weren't exactly the most beautiful things to look at. But Mikah's expression was thrilled with the ability to actually be able to play his guitar again. It wasn't an easy task to do with his hands bound and pasted with aloes.

[Miro]

When Mikah went to speak after playing Miro just silenced him with a hand over his mouth. The boy's eye was closed and he had a very soft, placid, unreadable expression on his face, though one that seemed to be of peace and content. After a moment he nodded and removed the hand, opening his eye and looked over at the boy. "That, my darling boy, was almost as beautiful as you." He smiled, that time with just a smidgen of actual flirtation behind it. Though not quite consiously. "But one critique, don't talk... Just wait.. If the person is really listening they'll need time to process it, think about it, learn it, understand it. Don't break the silence right away. Because if they do, you know they weren't listening."

He did catch the look, though and to that he let out a little laugh, "Nothing to do with you." A small smirk grew, "Just had some clinging traces when I pulled away, feels like cobwebs on you fingers, so I just brushed them off. See.." To prove the point he moved his hand forward, letting his fingers trail just slightly down the boy's neck and then come to rest just barely off center of his chest. His fingers spread, sliding slowly outward so that his whole hand now pressed firmly against the boy's heart. He could feel both his own and Mikah's powers thriving with in, his own writhing and churning to get back to the body it knew and loved, Mikahs struggling equally hard just to break free. It caused Miro's smile to grow a bit. He pushed a bit more power in, just to keep the casing sharp then slowly drew away, palm pulling back, then fingers and finally the very tips drifting away.

"See, nothing to do with you.. My my power trying to get back." But it was time to change gears.

A warm, gentle smile grew on Miro's lips and he reached out hand as if asking if he could hold the guitar. He took it, settled it on his lap, though he was a lefty so it was the oppisite way, must have looked awfully funny to Mikah. "No, I've got not a darn clue how to play guitar." He smiled, strumming the strings with one thumb. "But I was taught how to play one fun little diddy." He played a little strumming thing a friend at the institute had taught him then stopped. "And, why, I liked it so much I made a song.. I'm not much of a singer, I'm warning you, you could do much better, but this is the only thing I've ever written. I'm not much for writing songs either. I've started a few but none of them ever got finished. Because they were honestly bad... One had something to do with cheese, if I recall correctly."

He paused, starting the rythm again and playing it through twice before his voice sounded, it was low, and on key, and a bit gravelly, which seemed to work okay with the song, but Mikah's was certainly better. At least it wasn't painful to listen to Miro.

Calm down, deep breaths
And get yourself dressed
Instead of running around
And pulling on your threads
And breaking yourself up

If it's a broken part, replace it
If it's a broken arm, then brace it
If it's a broken heart, then face it

And hold your own, know your name
And go your own way.
Hold your own, know your name
And go your own way.
And everything, will be fine.

Hang on, help is on the way
And stay strong, I'm doing everything

Hold your own, know your name
And go your own way.
Hold your own, know your name
And go your own way.
And everything,
Everything will be fine
Everything...

All the details in the fabric
All the things that make you panic
All your thoughts, results of static cling
All the things that make you blow
Ain't no reason, go on and scream
If you're shocked,
It's just the fault of faulty manufacturing
Everything, will be fine
Everything, in time
Everything...

Hold your own, know your name
And go your own way.
Hold your own,
Know your name
And go your own way

Hold your own,
Know your name
And go your own way

Hold your own,
Know your name
And go your own way.


Everything, will be fine
Everything, in no time at all
Hearts will hold...

He let the melody from the guitar slowly drift away before sinking back into the sofa, eye closed, body lax. After a long moment he turned to look at Mikah, "So yeah, just a little something, not the best..." He smiled, "I'm not much of a song writer, but apparently poems with a bit of rythm are songs, so that's how Manny taught me to write." He smiled, handing the instrument back, "She's real nice." He murmured, smiling and relaxing once again, into the sofa, watching the other male lightly.

<Lyrics Details in the Fabric by Jason Mraz>

[Mikah Hart]

Mikah felt Miro's hand upon his lips, silencing his miniature tirade on talents. His heart had finally recovered from Miro's brief contact with Mikah's chest, although this motion of Miro's nearly sent the boy right back to his previous state. The boy stared curiously at Miro, whom had gone rather quite, his eyes closed in concentration. In that moment, Mikah allowed his azure gaze to take in Miro's face, something that he had not been able to do the last time they had met. Although yes, they two had been very close to one another when sitting on the grass outside of the school, Mikah and most likely Miro too, had been concentrating more on the attempt at masking and controlling Mikah's flame more than getting to know one another.

Mikah always believed in appearances being at least a blueprint to the person they belonged to. Of course, to judge personality and kindness were not something you could simple deduct by looking at someone. But there were always subtle hints to someone's past, both in their expressions, and upon their body, both good, and bad. Miro though, was proving too difficult a person to read. Mikah's eyes trailed over the older teen's face, taking in each edge, lingering briefly upon Miro's rather subtle cheekbones, and attribute of Miro's that Mikah rather liked. Yet, they gave him no story. Mikah then took in the fact that Miro was wearing an eye patch. Had he worn it before? Mikah was quite sure that the older student hadn't, and now was rather curious about it. Perhaps that could tell him just a little bit more about Miro, whom seemed the type to be more concerned with learning about others, rather than revealing anything about himself.

"But one critique, don't talk... Just wait... If the person is really listening they'll need time to process it, think about it, learn it, and understand it. Don't break the silence right away. Because if they do, you know they weren't listening."

As Miro's eyes, well, eye opened, Mikah nodded lightly, his lips slightly parted in expression. It made sense, and already, Mikah was thinking back to the number of times he had done just that, been the first to talk after he was supposed to be listening. Guilty of it, especially when it came to talking with his mom.

Mikah almost let a sigh escape his lips as Miro took note of his own sad attempt at hiding his hurt feelings. Mikah had thought the topic dead, and yet, the teen before him moved close once more, his hand outstretched, fingers trailing upon Mikah's neck, tingling all the way. Mikah felt his heart go once more as he stiffened slightly, watching Miro's hand halt upon his chest once more, in proof that their was nothing wrong with the touch. And yet, was there? Miro was older, of age, and although Mikah did not know, he was not the type to see this as a flirting gesture. And yet, here was Mikah bit by bit becoming even more infatuated with the older student as they spent time together. Mikah had never been so physically close with anyone like this, not even by his mother, to whom he had been dependant on for the whole of his life. In fact, as much as his mother loved him, the woman tended to stay a few feet away from the boy, in her own fear of being engulfed in her son's flame. So to have another touch him so, Mikah was working hard to jumpstart his heart once more. In his hearts frantic battle for life, Mikah did not notice the ounce of power that Miro decidedly added on to his previous work, but perhaps Miro could feel the flame of Mikah's heart racing with his touch.

It took Mikah a moment to realize that Miro had let his hand fall away from his own chest, now open and beckoning for a shot with Mikah's guitar. With a few chuckles at Miro's tidbits on his past experiences with music, the teen sat back, and listened intently to Miro's song.

Mikah followed each chord, each word, and remained silence minutes after Miro had finished, following the advice Miro had given him not moments before. As the older teen finally spoke, Mikah rose his own hand, although wasn't quite as forward as placing it upon Miro's lips.

"You don't give yourself enough credit, and whoever this Manny is, she taught you well, but it's not her who gave you the words to this, just the inspiration. It was your piece truly." Mikah smiled sheepishly as he took up his guitar again, plucking at the strings in no particular order. A question continued to linger in his mind from when he had been looking over Miro, one that he decided to annunciate,

"What happened to your eye? Or did you just decide to wear it for kicks and giggles? It does kinda of suit you. Dashing really."

[Miro]

Miro shrugged, he really didn't think his stuff was that good. He wasn't really a writer, or a singer, or a guitar player. And he'd just combined all three, not a good mix, according to him. Apparently Mikah didn't think so. But any way, it was said and done. So Miro stayed put and quiet, letting himself let loose a soft sigh, body leaning slightly sideways so that he could face Mikah, sort of, his feet still dangling off the sofa. As the boy spoke Miro raised an eyebrow, his eye? He paused, reaching up to feel the the patch over his eye, causing a smile to grow on his lip. "Hahaha, yeah, no, just covering the eye, people tend to get freaked out." He flipped up the patch, revealing the greenish blue, fogged over eye. He pulled the little flap back over and let a few more little chuckles out.

"I was born with discolored eyes, the retna got disconnected and it got all fucked up looking after an EST." HE scratched at his head and cleared his throat, "Uh... I dunno how that work, I think they placed it too close to my optical nerves and something, I really have no idea, but it screwed me up some how, my depth perception was just completely fucked for a while, but I got used to it. Pretty funny actually." Miro chuckled lightly and shook his head, "But yeah... I've had some good times with just the one eye."

(Jeez I"m just so fucked right now, give me a post to get back into it)

[Mikah Hart]

Mikah stared curiously at Miro's exposed eye, the color of it having looked as though it had been leeched away. It looked like a normal eye, and yet, Mikah could see just how it might bother people if they were the kind to constantly keep eye contact. The teen scooched himself closer to look at Miro's blind eye, as curious as a young child.

"Dude, that looks sweet as hell." He stated honestly, continuing to stare. A tint of a greenish blue hue remained, and yet, the color itself wasn't saturated enough to be considered a true eye color. It was quite alurring to his eye, at least, if not other people, simply for it's originality, and rareness. Mikah had moved to squatting on his knees on the unlevel couch, truly defining an entertained child. However, what was to come next was definity not in the league of a small boy.

Someone else had entered the Auditorium. Footsteps could be heard above the two boys heads as the stranger walked across the old stage, bits of dust falling from the thin ceiling above Mikah and Miro as Mikah looked up towards the sounds. Wondering who it could be, the teen continued to search the world above him, although of course, he could only see out of the little of a hole their was from the empty lift space on the stage. Nothing. A few lights turned on, dazzling the dust that scurried around the two students, creating a rather lovely effect, one that you wouldn't imagine could come from loose bits of who knows what.

"Wonder who that is..." It wasn't play season. Not yet anyways. Suddenly, their was a loud grunt of gears as things around the two of them began to come to life. What were they doing, testing the equipment? As if on cue, one of the floor lifts began to rise to Mikah's and Miro's left, along with an almost inaudible voice from above,

"Honestly, leaving these holes open in the stage? Gunna be a bloody accident there is." A caretaker?

Mikah looked up towards the moving pedistal as it found it's way back home one floor above. Another began to move, this time to the right of the two boys. A sudden realization came to the teen as he looked directly above himself. There too, was a hole. The couch suddenly shuddered as Mikah's half began to rise. Alarmed, the teen quickly looked towards Miro, hardly having a moment to say anything, let alone get off the moving furniture. It didn't take long for the teen to slide towards the lower half of the couch, and soon, the whole couch had been toppled over with a huge clunk. Of course, the man above wouldn't have heard it with all the sounds of the moving gears. Mikah had closed his eyes as he colided with Miro, the two sprawled on top of one another on the dusty floor. Mikah's face was hardly a centimeter away from Miro's as the boy stared down, his face flushed, completely shocked with what had just happened. Had someone thought to make a prank of putting the couch on the stage lift? Mikah would have found it funny, if he were currently laying atop of another guy, even if he wasn't completely opposed to being so close to the fellow.

"Did that.... seriously just happen?" Mikah stated with bated breath, continuing to stare down at Miro.

[Miro]

Miro blinked as he watched the other platforms being drawn upwards, it didn't really occure to him that that might create a slight problem for them. Cue it, three, two, one... The platform that they happen to be next to, on top off, sort of, started to lift. Miro saw the problem before it happened. The sofa started to lift and he thought, wrongly, that Mikah would have the simple common sense to hop off the sofa before the scene turned bad. The sofa slanted higher and higher.. Then- There was a thump and clutter and the sofa, thank god, had slipped off the platform and landed rightly again, the same could not be said, however, for the boys.

Miro winced as he flopped out onto the floor, only reason being that Mikah had slid down the sofa and toppled over him, bringing the older male with him to a heap on the floor. Though the situation and position did give a little smile a happy home on his face. That soon gave way to a raised eyebrow when the position didn't change after several minutes. Several minutes of silence, might I add. The light had cut now, there was nothing filtering through any cracks, and the lights under the stage had officially gone off. In the long, frozen silence the clops and grumbles of the custodian leaving could be heard. A creek of the door, then a smack and thump as it closed.

Miro looked up at Mikah, who was currently trapping him, half pinning him to the ground. Their faces still just centimeters apart Miro let his head fall back lightly against the floor. "Mmm, I'd say." The elder of the two smirked. With the close contact he could feel his magic writhing forth again. He could feel the typically cool energy with in him heat and rage against his body. He felt hot tendrils swirl out of him and race through Mikah, swirl madly through his body, warping around his power, teasing it, testing it, falling in line with the bit of Mike's magic that was already there.

The feeling was intense, maybe if he'd had more human contact he'd be used to this, if he'd been ore socalized... Who knew, any number of reasons could have helped the situation. But what it boiled down to was that he just didn't have enough person to person interaction. And with this new contact, this new power that was so close, this new heat and comfort and weight came a whole range of new emotions, feelings and experiences. Miro shook his head, giving a little twitch of his lips and pulling his magic back, reeling it back into his body, closing it off and trapping it in.

He blushed slightly, "I'm sorry about that... New things make my power go crazy... Trying new foods to new sports, if it's good enough it just whew..." He bit his lip, blushing a bit more and relaxing against the floor, eye wandering up to gaze into Mikah's gently, watching his face for any reaction.

[Mikah Hart]

Visibility was nearly zero, as the two boys were left in the dark underside of the stage, the lights having been cut completely by the stranger above. Minutes passed, and yet, for some reason, Mikah could not bring himself to get up. He couldn't understand why that was, but surprisingly, Miro seemed not to be bothered too much by the position they were in at all. It felt so closed in, so clausterphobic as Mikah stared at the silhouette of Miro's head, his own heart pounding in his chest, roaring so loudly in his ears. Mikah wouldn't have been surprised if his frantic beats could be heard as he lay, dumbstruck, on Miro's chest. What added to the thumping rage in his chest, was that of the wild power that was once again dancing in merth, being so close to it's creator. Miro's power danced within Mikah own chest, a sensation that was all to wonderful. All the emotions welling up within Mikah, natural and not, were driving him insane.

"Mmm, I'd say." The teen continued to look into the place where he thought Miro's eyes were, listening intently, while irritated with his own breathing, which seemed to be amplified in sound just like his pounding heart. And then, he felt Miro's power, both his own and within Mikah, begin to interact. It was a curious sensation, thrilling, and almost unbearable, but in a pleasant way. The feeling gushed with ethereal happiness, and Mikah couldn't control his own face as it burst into a grin. Slightly frantic with the loss of control over his own facial expression, the boy pushed himself upright, fearing he would lose more control than that of just his feelings.

The motion seemed to trigger a reaction from Miro, although perhaps it was merely of his own will to take control over his overly cheerful loose power. Mikah felt the power creep out from his own flame, leaving him feeling unfoundedly depressed. Who wouldn't be, after having felt such an uncontrolled, wonderful mirth?

" I'm sorry about that... New things make my power go crazy... Trying new foods to new sports, if it's good enough it just whew..."

"No... It's alright. I mean, we can't all have perfect control. Look at me, for instance," Mikah worded slowly as he looked down at Miro's face in the darkness. Only then, did the boy take note that yes, although he wasn't laying on Miro any longer, he was still sitting on the teen's lower half. Better late than never. How long had he been on Miro anyways? Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Mikah just couldn't put a time to it.

"Oh crap, I'm sorry Miro." Rolling off from the form underneath him, Mikah sat himself on the floor, glad that the darkness had hidden both his embarassed face now, and than of the reaction he had endured while Miro's power had reacted within him. At least, he had hoped it had hidden both expressions, yet Mikah was not so sure, since he himself could just make out Miro's own features in the dusty orchestra pit.

"Great... stuck in the dark." Mikah muttered. He himself wasn't bothered to much by the dark, unlike some people he knew, but he hated the thought of having to find his way out, seeing as the switch board for the lights was up one floor. The teen decided moved his body to the floor, laying out with his head resting against the hard wood panes that made up the bottom of the stage.

[Miro]

(I know you'll probably think this was a post and get all excited, and i"m sorry for that, but I can't post right now i"m just... Ug... I need sleep, I'll be on tomorrow. Night <3)

[Mikah Hart]

(Ahhhh! I totally did think it was a post! >.< POST DANG IT! <33 Love you! xD)

[Miro]

Miro smirked and laughed slightly, watching as Mikah all but tumbled off of him and scuttered away as if sitting on Miro was the worst offense imaginable. He just sniggered and then shook his head. "No, it's fine." Miro rolled his head to the side, looking at Mikah before shaking his head, "A fire elemental not being able to give us a bit of light." But he knew that Mikah had the great probibilty of just lighting everything on fire, not just something to keep them lit up. Miro extended a hand, pressing his fingers against various parts of the ceiling and floor, leaving little balls of glowing white light that lit a soft circle around where they were sitting.

Then, in a quick motion the male lunged over the distance between them and crolled over Mikah, laughing before half pinning him to the ground. He raised an eyebrow before winking, "I'm not going to hurt you for sitting on me for too long." Miro murmured, shaking his head, pushing himself back onto his knees. "You're cute, you know that?"