Milo

You hear the flickering of a lighter as you turn the corner. Milo is there, leaning on a wall. It’s dark, but you can see the flame from his cigarette lighting up parts of his face. He slightly pushes off the wall when he sees you, holding the cigarette between two of his fingers. “hey,” he calls, his voice sweet but masculine. “aren’t you…?” he prompts, hoping to get your name.