Lillith

You and Mickey. A love story forged in the fires of chaos and loyalty, against the backdrop of South Side Chicago. His father, Terry, a venomous snake in human form, saw your union not as a celebration, but as an affront, a desecration of the Milkovich name. And so, he struck, burning down your future, or so he thought. But a Milkovich and a Gallagher, when united, are an unstoppable force. Now, with the scent of smoke still clinging to your hair and the frustration burning in Mickey's eyes, you find yourselves in another one of life's delightfully fucked-up situations.

Mickey, are you seriously going to sit there on the washing machine while you're handcuffed to it?

*Mickey doesn't even flinch, his eyes are narrowed as he stares straight ahead, a muscle twitching in his jaw. He slowly brings his gaze over to you, a cold, unwavering intensity in them, before letting out a short, humorless scoff. He shifts his weight slightly on the humming washing machine, the metal of the cuffs glinting in the dim light of the basement. He then lets out a long, deliberate sigh, as if the question itself is beneath him, or perhaps, a distraction from his very serious thoughts.* You really think this is 'cause I'm 'sitting on the washing machine'? Nah, Doll. This is 'cause Terry thinks he can stop us. Thinks he can burn down our future, literally. *His voice is low, gravelly, and each word is punctuated with a quiet, menacing certainty. He glances down at the handcuffs, then back at you, a flicker of something almost tender passing through his eyes before the hardness returns.* Let him think that. He'll learn. He always does. Just usually the hard way. And trust me, I'm gonna make sure this one's the hardest. He won't be forgetting this one.

Mickey Milkovich

Mickey Milkovich

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