World So Cold

Love is never simple. Love is never easy. There is more grey than there is black and white. Zayn Malik Fan Fiction

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12. Intangible

Siobhan

 

Paco sits on the sofa, and his eyes are dark. My parents are away ‘taking care of business’. they’ve been doing a lot of that lately, but they wouldn’t allow me details, or even tell me where this business was. Something changed in them too, but if it was serious didn’t I have the right to know? “I testified” Paco tells me. “This morning, when I told you I went to see Giancarlo…I lied, I testified”

Of course he would. Of course he wouldn’t just let it go. I stand quickly, feeling every fiber of my being catch afire. “How could you” it happens instantaneously, the tears, threatening to spill from my eyes. How could he put our lives in danger like this? How could he be so stupid? How could my parents allow him to? He looks at me, and I know his answer. Damien. Revenge. It was for Damien.

But what about us dammit? What about my parents, me, or even him. Or his family….what about his family who thinks they are safe in Mexico. “How could you” I repeat. “How could you be so stupid” I sob. I turn my back on him and run upstairs. He grabs my hand before I get in my room. “Let me go” but he doesn’t, he just pulls me closer, his strong arm wrapping around mine. I feel something hard around his hip, hard and metal. “Is that a gun” I ask backing away and looking at his waist band.

“I’ll never be one of the good guys Siobhan.”

Why couldn’t we be happy, why couldn’t he love me without the thoughts of the gang drifting between us. I want to hit him, scream at him, yell…but I realize time is of the essence. At any moment, he could be swept into the mess, he could be in the eye of the storm. “Look Siobhan you’re parents are trying to get an undercover cop to help you out here…” he sighs and looks down. Paco is ashamed. “There’s a team of undercover cops protecting mi familia en mexico….I am doing what I can, what I know”

I want to hate him, but I cant, it is a paradox that I feel. Stronger than anything I’ve ever felt. My mother has written a story about it, but hers has a happy ending. That’s the thing with fiction, the endings aren’t so bitter, they aren’t so real. This is too real, and the world is too cold. It is too cruel. I wipe my eyes quickly. Did this boy get an adrenaline rush when he faced with death? “I told people not to tell you, everyone knew I was going to testify” he confessed and takes the gun from his waistband. He tosses it and it slides along the carpet stopping near the stairs.

“Te quiero, te adoro” he shrugs some. Without his gun, he feels naked, I can see his vulnerability. He doesn’t feel safe. “I want you Siobhan, I adore you” his chocolate eyes glaze over, and his jaw tenses.

Paco Fuentes allows tears to slide from his eyes down his cheeks. “And I am sorry, if you think I put you in danger, those weren’t my intentions. I’d let them have me before they lay a finger on you or your family”

“Don’t talk like that” I tell him lacing my fingers in his. “You’ll be okay, my parents, they’re taking care of business” I feel helpless, and I don’t even believe the words coming from my mouth but I say them because maybe out loud they’ll seem tangible. “My parents are-” he cuts me off with a kiss, and it is different then our other kisses. This one has more of an urge, and there is a sense of anguish in his lips. There is hunger, there is drive, and there is passion. It feels right, but fortuitous. I don’t want this to be the last time I hold him. No, I cant even allow that thought.

Mujer, go to sleep” he tells me, parting his lips from mine, his breath catching. I touch his lips softly, and shake my head. “C’mon Siobhan” he takes my fingers from his mouth.

“Only if you join me” I say, and he doesn’t fight it. He lays beside me, in his boxers and I lay there in a camisole and PJ pants. The glare from the moon is peeking through my curtains, and I need assurance. I need something to hold onto, because he cant promise me forever, he cant promise me tomorrow, he can only be certain of now…if that. “Paco, penny for your thoughts?” I ask as we spoon, his body protective around mind and his chin is on my shoulder. I know he is awake, but he is quiet at first, too quiet. In the dark, I hear him sniffle.
His lips find the pulse on my neck and kiss it softly. “Te amo demasiado de mi propio bien” his voice is hot in my ear as he kisses from my pulse to the curvature of my collar.

“You know I have no clue what you’re saying” I tell him, sadly.

He sits up and I feel him shift over me, he turns on the bedside lamp and looks at me. His eyes are red, his lip is trembling. How could I not feel for him, how could I not want to be held by him… touched by him. “Paco?” I sit up now, and run my hand up his chest, my palm resting over his heart.

“I said I love you too much for my own good”, he looks at me then looks away, he is emotional, and he is trying to keep it together. I don’t say anything, I climb onto his lap and hug him tight. His flesh is warm against mine, and our hearts beat against one another. When we kiss again, it is the start of something more. It starts slow, and picks up the minute his shirt hit’s the floor. In the dim light, I see every tattoo, every mark, and every scar. His tattered, damaged, beige skin against my smooth, pale skin. When we are naked, it feels prohibited as we grind against one another. Sweat making our bodies stick together, glistening.

When he is inside of me, I feel something different. It feels amazing, and beautiful, but final.

There is pleasure, unsurpassable amounts, but there is a delicate whisper in my head. And it tells me not to get too used to him, Paco Fuentes is intangible. He is intangible just like the dreams I have when I close my eyes and see him there.

When I close my eyes, he is beside me. Walking, his steps harmonic with my own. And our hearts are two beats synchronizing as one.

But when I open my eyes, he is intangible. Because I shouldn’t let myself forget, nothing is ever certain.

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