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chavacerilla · 4 years

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chava fluff alphabet

a/n: i’ve noticed a significant lack of fanfiction for my main chava, and by significant lack i mean there’s literally nothing here. so here it is, a whole ass alphabet for my husband i love him word count: 9232

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

Chava finds everything attractive about you, but most importantly, he loves your smile. There’s something so special about how you sparkle at him, the corners of your eyes crinkling and your cheeks so perfectly rounded. The apples of your cheeks fit so perfectly in his hands, and he loves to capture your grin between his palms. If he could, he would keep your smile in his pocket until the end of his days, but that would mean it would cease to be yours, and that’s too much of a price to pay. So he settles for making you beam as often as he can, and basks in the warmth that covers his skin.

But above all, there’s no better feeling than the way you smile into his kiss, your teeth gently pressed against his lips, and he can’t help but pull you in again and again. He swears it’s his destiny to have fallen for the sunshine you pour into his life, and the days only get brighter.

Is there anything about Chava Cerilla that isn’t attractive?

The most attractive thing about Chava is his demeanor. He’s both the sharpest thorn and softest petal of a rose. He’s the perfect description of someone your mother would’ve called “rough around the edges,” but every time you meet his gaze, you know immediately that he’s got his entire heart open just for you. Anything you could possibly ask for, Chava’s ready and willing to get for you.

He’s passionate – every brush of his skin burns with affection. His eyes are constantly thoughtful, yet so, so intense. And God, when he pulls you into his strong arms, you feel so lucky that he’s got you, because you could absolutely just melt into his touch.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

Chava absolutely wants a family. He can’t wait to have as many kids as possible, and let them run free along the plantation. There’s such a wealth of knowledge he’s attained that he wants to be able to pass along – what color of coffee cherries are the most perfect, the fastest route through the hedge maze, and even how to tie your shoes so they don’t come undone during the day.

There’s so much that your abuela taught Chava that he wishes to teach to someone else – or hopefully, a few someones. When Chava sees you, sitting in his passenger seat, staring out into the Colombian sky, he sees a future. A beautiful, wonderful future full of children and laughter and watching movies even though there might be school the next day. He remembers the days that you had together when you were young. Stories of abuela and Aurora and the mornings around the plantation are dying to be told to young ears. Those days full of imagination and wonder for the world.

He knows that he’ll see a glimpse of it again, if not now, then at the very most, the moment you both lay eyes on your firstborn. That feeling of magic is sure to come back when you finally, after all this time, have a child of your own. Together.

He knows he’ll cry immediately, overwhelmed with love at first sight. Oh, how he hopes that your kids will have your eyes – your abuela’s eyes – and a little piece of her will stay alive through them. He knows that he’ll kiss you both constantly until the end of his days. He’s not scared of waking up in the middle of the night to change diapers and never getting any real sleep again. Chava’s so excited, and would be reading parenting books and talking to all the townspeople, just to try and be prepared for what he knows is the most terrifying thing in most people’s lives. He’d stay up for hours talking to Aurora about Lucia and what her experience was like, wondering about how he can be the best father that he can be. His dream is to be the kind of parent your abuela was to him.

Everyone in town would be buzzing about Chava Cerilla’s first child. The descendant of La Dama Roja. Las Tres Hermanas would be teaching him how to braid hair, even though they know he wouldn’t need to know for another couple of years at least, but he asked so sweetly, how were they supposed to say no? Old man Beto would be handing off a new checkers set, and joking about how he always knew you two were meant for each other. Beto would sit with Chava for hours, just teaching him checkers strategies, that he knows Chava wouldn’t need for a long time, but Beto knows he might not be around long enough for that, so he gives what he can now.

You know that your children would be so massively, totally loved, by not just you and Chava, but the entire town. Still, it’s hard not to be afraid of having children. All that power to shape an entire person for better or for worse – it’s terrifying. But Chava has your back. Forever. It’s a lifelong commitment, but he’s never been more ready to commit to anything, especially when it comes to you.

Oh, and there’s going to be so many times when he falls asleep with your kids safely resting on his chest, cuddled up against him, a small sleepy smile resting on his face.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

Overall, Chava’s a huge cuddler. He loves any way he can feel your touch against him. Your warmth is just a comfort to him, and the endlessly strong and brave man for a moment just becomes your lover. He doesn’t have a specific preference, but his go to is just pulling you close to him, letting your head rest on his chest. The sound of his heartbeat will be music to your ears, and the way you draw shapes on his skin makes his heart ache towards yours. It’s the best way to see the sky above you, whether you’re in the back of his truck or laying out in the fields. He counts the stars reflected in your eyes before pulling you into his kiss, soft and languid against your lips.

He loves feeling able like he can protect you from anything, and wrapping you in his arms is a wordless way to speak his truth: he will love and defend you for all his life. Touch is really important to him, and it’s definitely one of his top love languages. When it’s hard to explain how he really feels, he’ll hold you, rest his head on top of yours, and just breathe. You’ll understand.

That’s what it’s like to be in love.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

Going on dates together would be the sweetest nostalgia mixed with the excitement of getting to know each other. Spending most of your life apart, he’d have so many stories to tell you as you walk through the streets, arm in arm, until you get to your destination.

If you went for dinner together, he’d hold your hand across the table, squeezing it every time he remembers he loves you more than the world. Fancy dinners would be far and few between, but there’s nothing he’d love more than to see you dressed up. He’d put on his suit, and you’d get ready together, gently humming to music as you sit on the bathroom counter to put your makeup on. While he runs his fingers through his curls, you’d press your freshly glossed lips to his cheek. A smile would cross his face, but a fire sparks within his eyes as he pulls you into his arms, peppering soft kisses against your face as your laughs bounce off the bathroom tiles. One of his favorite moments is when you finally slip into your dress, and you share the intimate silence as he zips you up, his warm hands running over the fabric and he’ll whisper under his breath,

“How did I get so lucky?”

Each and every date ensures that he can lay his entire heart out for you. And in all honesty, that just means having a place where he can feel the world melt out under his feet until it’s just the two of you. It could be absolutely anywhere, just as long as he can see you smiling.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))

You are my wish come true.

Chava spent years wishing on fireflies or “baby stars” as you would call them back when you were kids. Each time he walked through the cool night, he’d see those estrellitas and his heart would ache. His lips would move before he could even process what he was saying, and your name would fall into the open air.

“Regresa a mi.” (Return to me)

And every night, he’d walk through his maze, the soft grass crunching underneath the sole of his boot, and count the estrellitas until he lost himself in wishes for your return to Colombia. Sometimes, he’d bump into your abuela while wandering the plantation, and they’d walk underneath the milky moonlight, and she’d tell him stories of the two of you.

For a long time, he hid that he wanted to see you again. He would pretend like he was just asking out of curiosity. “When will she come back? Is she ever coming back?” and abuela started to pick up that his curiosity was not as simple as he had made it seem.

One night, he told abuela that he wanted to see you again back in Colombia. He told her it was his greatest wish. She smiled a knowing smile, and rested her frail hand on the side of his face.

“Chava, mijito, do you remember when you were little? She came when the sun was hot and you couldn’t bear to leave each other’s sides. Not for a single moment.

You were running around, playing tag, and she tripped up the stairs on the porch. My poor granddaughter, sitting on the steps. Her lip was pushed out all the way to the ocean and her eyes were full of tears. I remember wondering if she could even see.

But Chava, do you remember what you did?”

“No, abuelita. Not a clue.”

“You went right up to her and gathered that girl into your arms. She cried and cried and you just held her for as long as it took for her to calm down. I thought someone was going to call the police because of her wailing. Pero, Chava, you stroked her hair and wiped each of her tears away -”

“I did?”

“Are you surprised?”

“No.”

“Then let me continue.

Once she stopped crying, you picked her up and carried her into the house. You were both so small, so sweet. But you set her down on the couch and ran as fast as you could to get the bandages. When you returned, you wiped up the dried blood from her and when you placed the bandage on her knee, you pressed a besito to it, then you stayed on the couch together until you fell asleep.

And that’s when I knew.”

“Knew what, abuela?”

“I knew you loved her, mijito, and I knew you were going to love her for the rest of your life.”

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

Chava never had a defining moment to tell him he was in love with you. He’s always been in love with you. From the first moment you stepped onto the plantation, Chava has had his entire heart full of love for you.

Back then, it was just puppy love. His heart yearned to be with yours, but he didn’t know why. He walked with you wherever you wanted, played every game you wanted to play, and when you played house together, he’d kiss you on the cheek when he left “for work” and would tell you he loved you before the playhouse door shut behind him.

By the time he turned sixteen, it was beginning to be something more. He’d stare at the swirling ceiling, praying for the summer to come again. Though the heat could be excruciating and the sweat would pour down his back, you were the coolest shade and the sweetest lemonade. He’d suffer through it all for just a day by your side, capturing the tadpoles in the pond. You were his first kiss, and God, if he thought he loved you then, it was only going to get worse.

The summer before he turned twenty, he accepted he was in love with you. No other girl in town had compared to the time he spent with you. He’d never felt a connection to anyone the way he did to you. Your hearts were tied together even though you were 1600 miles apart. He spent hours poring over English books abuela gave him, just so he could put it into words. He never really had anything more planned than “I love you” but he was ready. He was so ready.

But you never came back.

Abuela said something bad happened to your parents, and you weren’t coming this summer. He’d never wanted anything more than to just hold you like he used to, and tell you he’d love you for the rest of his life. But how was he supposed to tell you, when you were so far away?

Every summer after that, he waited patiently for the day he’d finally tell you he loved you. And by the time he turned 24, he’d just accepted that you weren’t coming home. Not to him. Though his feelings could only grow stronger, his walls grew as he found himself more and more inside El Fantasma’s grasp.

And Chava loved you enough to let you be.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

He’s so endlessly gentle. But he’s not afraid you’ll break. He holds you with reverence. You’re everything to him, and he’s constantly in awe of every part of you. Chava’s entire life has been building up to you, and when you’re with him, sometimes he forgets you’re not part of his imagination and you won’t fade away at his touch. His lips press softly against yours, his hands resting easy on your skin, and you just melt into him.

That doesn’t mean he’s not passionate though. When Chava really shows his passion and devotion to you, it makes your head completely spin. He’ll pull you against him and leave you breathless. He’ll steal all the air from your lungs and claim it as his own, clinging to you, because finally, his whole world is in his arms.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

Chava’s hands are always on you, whether that be on the small of your back or interlocking your fingers together or letting his hand rest on your thigh as he drives his truck.

He likes holding your left hand, knowing that one day you’ll wear his ring on it. The fact that you hold his right hand is a gesture that you’re his priority. And when you switch sides and hold his left hand with your right, he gives his dominant hand to you, because you were always the one destined to hold it.

His thumb constantly grazes the back of your hand, memorizing the feeling of your skin underneath his. He’ll press soft kisses against your hand, and if you close your eyes, you can feel him whispering between kisses,

“I love you.”

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

Chava doesn’t remember the first time you came into his life. He was too young. You were just there. Not all the time, obviously, but the impact you made was permanent, in the same way meteors strike the earth. When you were gone, there was an obvious crater – a hole – in his life.

But there is one person who remembers.

One day, while on his walks with abuela, he got curious.

“Abuelita, do you remember when she first came to Colombia?”

“Sí, mijito.”

“Can you tell me about it?”

“Siéntate, Chava.

You were very small. Small enough to fit in the palm of my hand. They were coming for the summer, just when she was old enough to fly on the plane without causing too much of a ruckus. But they had just landed, mijo, and you were so excited that someone else was coming to visit.

I’d told you that you’d have a new friend about a month before, and you wouldn’t stop asking when they’d be here. I told you that if you kept asking, they wouldn’t show up, because you’d get too annoying. But you were hoping to become best friends, and I didn’t have the heart to tell you that they’d only be here for the summer.

So when they finally got here, I could see how excited you were. You didn’t stop smiling all day, and you chased each other around the fields until the moon was high in the sky. You didn’t know her yet, but she immediately became your favorite person in your small world. She was always special to you, from the moment you laid your little brown eyes on her.”

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Chava can get a little hot headed and jealous at times. Abuela wanted you to marry either him or Sergio, and God, every time that lawyer is around you, he could honestly punch him in the face. He won’t say anything for sure, because he doesn’t want to come across as controlling, and he knows you’re allowed to live your life as you wish, but that doesn’t mean he won’t stare daggers at Sergio.

When the lawyer comes up to you, Chava will pull you just a little closer to him, his strong arms tense around your waist. From the corner of your eye you can see his jaw clench and the vein in his neck bulge as the heat surges in his chest.

But you stand on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek, and you practically hear his heartbeat falling steady again. He’ll close his eyes, feeling the warmth of your lips against his skin and take a deep breath.

He’ll remember that you belong fully to each other, and peace washes over him.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

It’s kind of strange to think about, but Chava is experienced, no doubt about it. It’s a small town, and he’s definitely not a bad option. So over the course of his life, he’s been on a few dates and found himself in a few relationships. Though they didn’t work out, he learned every trick of the trade and put them in his back pocket, just waiting for the day you return home to Colombia.

For Chava, the best part of a kiss is the anticipation. You meet his eyes, hazy with need, and as you lean closer, he always takes a moment to wait. He breathes in the air from your lungs, forever trying to describe the feeling bubbling within him before he rushes towards you, finally letting your lips connect.

Each kiss languidly pressed against your lips is heaven on earth. His hands are constantly pulling you closer to him, holding your face, or tangled in your hair. He can’t stop how his hands desperately roam over you, constantly losing himself in your kiss. He loves to start slowly, letting his tongue drag across your bottom lip, and then as time moves, his heart beats faster and his kisses get more and more wanting until you’re dizzy from it all.

But it wasn’t always like that.

The first time you kissed, it was during the hot Colombian summer.

Chava sat on Abuela’s bed, the early dawn pouring over his tan skin.

“Abuelita, did you know she was my first kiss?”

“Dime, por favor.” (please, tell me)

“It was probably mid-July. Really, really hot, so we jumped into the creek. I brought one of those little plastic bags so we could catch tadpoles, and we ended up getting two in one bag. They’re always so fast, she was convinced that they couldn’t be separated. They were in love.

So she said they wanted to get married. They had to get married. So we spend all day, running around and picking flowers off the coffee shrubs to decorate the riverbed. She taught me how to make those – cómo se dice –

Daisy chains.

So we spend all day, weaving stems and flowers, preparing for this wedding, and as it started to get dark, we put fireflies in your jars.”

“Dios mio. My jars?”

“Lo siento, abuela. But yes, your jars. She would run after them, capture them in her hands, and I’d hold the jar. I just wanted to feel her hands against mine.”

Abuela reached out with soft eyes to put her hand on Chava’s cheek, running her frail thumb over his stubble. “Ay, mijo.”

“I know, I know. But once we had everything set up, and we were about to start the wedding, it was dark. I was holding the tadpoles in their bag. There was no moon. No light. And with only the fireflies to light the path, I slipped in the mud, and I- Abuelita, I knocked over all the jars and then I dropped the bag. The tadpoles, they swam away. My heart just sank.

It was all she wanted, all day, and I ruined it.”

“Oh, Chava, you didn’t mean it. Your legs were always so funny when you were young. She probably knew it was an accident.”

For a moment, Chava let his walls fall, laying down against the sheets and pressing his cheek into the pillows. Abuela ran her hand along the side of his face, brushing her fingers through his hair as he loses himself in the guilt of an action that happened over a decade ago.

“I still felt so horrible. And as I was sitting there, covered in mud, she sat down next to me. I was confused, obviously. She was wearing that white dress you bought her from the tailor. I remember thinking I’d ruined that too.

Pero, she leaned over to me, and she kissed me. I think she wanted to make me feel better. But Abuelita – I’ve never experienced another kiss like that.”

“Chava – mijito. That was a kiss of true love.”

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

Even though Chava frequently is known for treading lightly, planning each step before he takes it, he tends to run into everything headfirst when it comes to you.

He says I love you first.

One night, you were walking through the plantation together. The moon was high in the sky, the stars twinkling brightly overhead. Hand in hand, you let the wind lead your steps, and you found yourselves at the entrance on the hedge maze.

Without a word or a second glance, you dart inside, immediately hearing Chava’s laugh ring through the air as he gives chase. You seemingly move without any sense of direction, but you’re determined run makes him smile.

From a distance, he hears your delighted giggles as you reach a dead end. As you turn to face him, he sees your palms cupped together, hiding something in the space between.

Your voice is almost a whisper as your eyes soften towards him, “Chava, come see.”

As you let your hands open, a single firefly soars from between your fingers. Immediately, Chava’s sucked back into the memory of your first kiss, fireflies dancing around your heads, as your lips fell against his.

Overwhelmed with the feeling once again, he leans in to kiss you, holding you tight against him. The way your mouth grazes against his feels like home, and he can’t believe he’s finally returned to it.

He says what he’s known his entire life.

“I love you.”

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

One time, Chava spent the whole summer talking about glow-in-the-dark stars. He saw them on abuela’s tv once, some infomercial that lasted way too long in between cartoons. But he was immediately taken by how cool they seemed. He’d never seen anything like it, but he desperately wanted some.

He didn’t actually spend every minute of every day talking about it, but he did spend a lot of time hoping to see them one day. You thought they were cool, but knowing Chava liked them too only made them better.

So immediately after you returned to the United States, you begged your parents to get you some. You begged and begged until they gave in, taking you to the store to pick out your very own glow-in-the-dark stars. But you didn’t put them up. You shoved them into your suitcase until next summer, not wanting to ever forget them. They’ll be safe there.

But the problem was that glow-in-the-dark stars don’t last that long. By the time you opened up your suitcase the next June, they had long lost their glow, becoming faded green plastic. Hot tears ran down your cheeks as you thought about how you’d disappoint Chava, but you didn’t dare tell your parents. You felt like they’d scold you for waiting so long. To make them buy a present that you’d eventually give to someone else.

So you packed them anyways, and when your parents parked the car on the plantation, you got out and ran straight into his arms, sobbing and clutching useless stars. He hugged you tight, immediately asking what was wrong.

“Chava, I ruined them.” You cried, showing him the box.

He furrowed his brow and marched you straight into the house, through the kitchen, and into the pantry. Closing the door, he inspected the stars through the clear plastic, and ripped open the package. They spilled out, scattering along the wood floors, but he noticed one, faint, green glow underneath a bag of rice.

A single star, surviving the test of time.

It was one of the widest smiles he’s ever worn. He was amazed by how beautiful it was, even though he’d never seen them in their full glory. You spent the next hour in there, taking turns making wishes on the faded plastic star until the pantry door swung wide open.

Abuela stood before you, hands on her hips.

“There you two are! I have a surprise for both of you.”

And in her hands were glowing green galaxies.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

He loves to worship you in any way he possibly can. He presses kisses to your lips every morning and every night and every chance between. Chava doesn’t necessarily have the means to spoil, but he’d be damned if he didn’t show you his love every single day. You’re technically the rich one in the relationship now, with the sixteen-million-dollar estate. Chava’s just the plantation manager. It doesn’t bother him that you’re the one with the money, but he still saves up to buy you anything that you may mention in passing.

You could mention one night that you wish you had some mint chocolate chip ice cream, only to find it in the freezer the next night. It’s all the little things together that Chava loves to do for you. He’ll always bring you breakfast in the mornings, no matter what. He’d even try to do it when he’s sick, but you have to shove him back into bed and trade places for a day.

And even after everything he does, at the end of each day, he shows up with a red rose from the florist in town. He couldn’t go a day without showing you he’s so madly, truly in love with you.

It’d drive him insane if you didn’t know.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

When you think of Chava, you think of green. Green like the everlasting Colombian coffee fields he walks through. Green like the hedge maze he’d spent so long cultivating to perfection. Green like the strength and calm you can see always running through him. The warm emerald green that shines through Chava makes you feel safe and secure.

While you walk through the plantation, and you run your hands through vibrant green leaves, you can’t help but think of Chava. His hands have loved every branch of every tree along this plantation over and over again. You think of those same hands running along your skin, and instantly feel the shivers running down your spine.

Green is the color of his love for you, ever growing and endlessly full of life.

When Chava thinks of you, he thinks of the deep blue night. The beautiful, almost black sky littered with flecks of shimmering stars. He thinks of the nights you spend collecting fireflies, running underneath the swirling, oceanic heavens. The deep blue is stable and trustworthy. He’d never doubt how the night returns after the sun sets, and he’d never doubt you. Not in a million years.

As he lays underneath the sky, he hears your voice in the constellations, deep and rich. You’re such a different kind of lovely to him, you might as well be royalty. He knows how beautiful the blue would be against your skin, and spends time just imagining it with a smile spread wide across his face.

Also he’s heard of the phrase “something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue” and he cannot wait for the day. His sky, his heaven, his deep blue ocean, his world, forever becoming his.

That’s what blue means to him.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

Chava uses a lot of different pet names. There’s not one word that can fully express how he feels for you, so he uses them as he sees fit. His two favorites are “mi alma” (my soul) and “mi cielito” (my little heaven). You’re the most important thing in his world, and the other half of the heart he feels like he’s always been missing.

When you were young, and you’d play house together, he’d come “home from work” and call you “cariño” (sweetheart). It’s what his parents called each other, when his father would come home and kiss his mother on the cheek. He’s always wished for their kind of love, and now he has it.

Sometimes he calls you “estrellita,” remembering all those nights he spent wishing on fireflies for you. On those teeny, tiny stars, sitting in the palm of your hand. Other days, he calls you "mi sol” (my sun), thinking of how your radiance exceeds that of any star, but is the reason his whole world is warm and vibrant.

When he calls you “mi media naranja,” he’s thinking of everything you shared during the summers, splitting everything down the middle (though secretly, he’d always give you just a little bit more). Mi media naranja translates literally to “my half an orange,” but more closely translates to English as “my soulmate.” One half of an orange only has another perfect half. Chava is absolutely sure you’re his.

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

Chava doesn’t keep his phone on him at all times. It’s never really been necessary, because he knows where everyone on the plantation is at all times. If someone’s deviated from their usual schedule, someone else knows where they are. He’ll leave it somewhere like on the bedside table or the kitchen counter, and when you try to call him, you’ll hear it ringing throughout the house. You end up settling on the fact that it’s easier to just shout from your house and play telephone until he comes to the house, chest heaving because he ran from wherever he just was.

He’ll plop down on your bed, trying to catch his breath as you smile, placing a hand gently on his heated cheeks.

“So what do you want for dinner?”

“Cariño, did you really call me over for this?”

“It’s important!”

He sighs playfully, running callused fingers through his hair, “I’ll come back early and we can make empanadas together.”

He stands back up, wiping the wrinkles out of his clothes. Leaning down to meet your gaze, his warm hand lands on the side of your face. The pad of his thumb brushes against your skin as he whispers, “You’re lucky you’re very pretty, mi alma.”

And with a kiss, he’ll pop out the door and back to the field.

As someone who doesn’t use his phone very often, Chava’s a huge fan of handwritten notes. Not always the kind that are sent in the mail, but the kind that are left along the refrigerator and on your nightstand. He writes a lot of things down constantly, to remember everything that happens. A notepad and pen sit in his jacket pocket to use at all times.

He’s constantly got a lot of responsibilities, and he keeping track of it all is important.

But inside his notebook is a bunch of little notes you’ve left him that he’s shoved back between the rings and pages.

“Have a good day, Chava!”

“I love you.”

“I hope it’s not too hot!”

And he’ll leave you little notes back and leave them around the house.

“Mi cielito, I’m going to be home late, no need to wait up. Lo siento.”

“Thinking of you, mi sol. - Chava”

“I cannot wait to kiss you again. I will kiss you a thousand times over. xx”

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

When the days get rainy, Chava likes to spend his time outside.

During some of his more troubled days, frustrated with the loss of his parents and the treatment of him and Aurora, Abuela would take him into the open green grass and stand him underneath the pouring rain.

“Chava, feel your tears and let la lluvia wash it away.”

The rain pelted his skin, stinging his nerves until he could no longer feel anything else.

Thunder crashed into his ears, leaving him deaf and quieting his thoughts.

Lightning striking in the distance illuminated his tan skin, highlighting the tears streaming along his cheeks, now indeterminate from the rain.

The salt of his sobs covered his tongue as he fell to his knees in the dirt.

The metallic smell of iron and red blood washed away, leaving only the earthy scent of fresh rain in its wake.

Abuela held Chava as he howled and wept with the rushing wind, rocking him as she whispered,

“Mijo, replace your senses with la lluvia.”

So when it rains, he has the tendency to drop everything and stand in the rain. He doesn’t necessarily want to be alone, so if you go up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and feeling the weight of his body against yours, you can just barely hear him beneath the storm,

“Only la lluvia.”

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

Chava’s not too good at cheering himself up. He tries pretty hard not to be sad too often. And with everything that’s happened in his life, he’s built up pretty big walls to hold off the pain. It’s a lot easier to feel nothing than the hardship brewing inside of him.

Yet, to feel is to live.

If he’s feeling down, he won’t push it away by trying to cheer himself up. He’ll take the wave as it crashes over his head, and wait for the current to bring him back up. You’ll find him either walking around and letting his thoughts lead his steps, or nursing a beer and losing himself within the starry sky. Sometimes both.

But he usually does most of it alone.

Chava lets time sweep him off of his aching feet, falling into his memories. Once he finds the source of his pain, he chooses to explore it.

One of the guys he works with on the plantation just had his second child. He was struck with thoughts of his parents, before the fear of El Fantasma.

The gaping hole left in his heart hurts, but he pushes his focus to what he loves, rather than what he’s lost.

He remembers the times he and Aurora and his parents were all able to be laughing on one room. He remembers the sound of their voices bouncing against the walls. He remembers how they always smiled until long after the sun had set, singing songs and telling stories they had already heard.

The pain in his chest slowly subsides to a sweet nostalgia for the life he once lived.

Unable to stand by any longer, you approach him slowly, letting your shadow touch him before you do. The moment you’re within arm’s reach, he pulls you close to his chest, pressing soft kisses to the top of your head.

“Chava?”

“Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

When you look up into his hazel eyes, you see tears brimming over the rims. You push them away with the pad of your thumb, a gentle promise for better days.

“I will be, mi amor, I will be.”

But when you’re sad, Chava wouldn’t dare leave you alone. He pulls you into his arms, replacing every one of your thoughts with his heartbeat. The warmth of his fingers pour over your skin as he runs them up and down your arms.

He immediately jumps up to get cookies and milk so you can indulge in the sweetness and while truly feeling your sadness. You smile immediately at the gesture, chocolate chip cookies warmed until they’re gooey on the inside and soft from the milk.

After that, he lies there with you until you feel like talking about it, until your tears run dry and your smile returns to your face. And if you don’t feel like talking about it then, he’ll do anything he can to make you comfortable until you do. He’ll give you all the blankets and pillows from around the house to build a fort for you and turn on some gentle music to let you process your thoughts.

Chava will never let you get too far into your sadness. He’ll always pull you back.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

Chava talks a lot about the past and the future loves to reminisce and daydream. He’s always the nostalgic about what has been, but even more so a romantic for what could be.

“Mi cielito, do you remember when we were very young? You had just gotten out of school and come straight here. They taught you how to ballroom dance, and you’d won first place in the school competition.”

“Yes! I thought it’d be fun to teach you. You always stepped on my foot, but abuela said we would’ve won any competition.”

“She said it was because we cared so much for each other, it showed in every movement.”

“Do you think she knew that we’d end up together?”

Chava laughs, wrapping an arm tight around you. “Think? She knew. She only spoke English to me for an entire year, just so I could be able to talk to you when you came back.”

“She did?”

“Oh yes. She said ‘Chava, you have to meet her where she’s at. You must learn English.’”

“That sounds like abuela.”

“She also said we’d have really beautiful children.”

“Do you think we would?”

“I know we would.” He hums, staring up at the ceiling. “A little girl then a little boy. Like me and Aurora. They’d have your smile.”

“What if they had your smile?”

“They won’t. I know they won’t.”

“And what makes you so sure?”

Chava turns to meet your eyes, resting his hand on the side of your face, “Your smile is much too beautiful to not be passed on to our kids.”

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

Chava is usually just a little bit tense. With El Fantasma constantly watching, he’s not usually very relaxed. He tries his best not to let it interfere with his life, but once he’s had a target on his back for as long as he could remember.

Being with you is a good way to get him to relax. He’ll smile bigger, let his laugh become a little louder, sit back in his chair for once. Sometimes, you’ll go run and pull out the old board games, and you’ll play for hours. You’ll hate him by the end of Monopoly, but you’ll see him genuinely relax with a beer in hand and all the properties on his side. It always makes you smile.

And although he’s pretty relaxed around you, he’s cautious. He’s aware of every noise and shadow. Especially with someone gunning for you as well, he wouldn’t dare let anything happen to you.

But sometimes, when the sun has long set, he’ll walk around the house. The wind guides his feet, and he just wanders from room to room, seemingly lost in thought. But if you’re quiet enough, observant enough, you’ll see his lips moving. He’s barely audible, but he speaks. It’s quick, and mostly in Spanish, but you don’t need to know what he’s saying to know what he’s doing.

He’s talking to your grandmother.

“Today was nice. The sun was bright. We haven’t heard from El Fantasma in while, which is both good and slightly worrying.”

He smiles softly to himself, running his fingers through his curls. “I think I might propose soon. It’s been a long time coming, I know it and you know it. I find it funny how you’ve known it all our lives.”

With a chuckle, he turns, and you duck back into the shadows around the corner. “I still have the ring you got me. I thought I’d never have a use for it. I think you were the only person who thought she’d come back.”

He flops down onto the couch, staring at the warm yellow ceiling light. “I’m glad you were right.”

He gets quiet enough that you can no longer hear him, and for a second you’re not sure he’s even talking anymore. He is.

“I want to ask for your blessing, abuela.”

When Chava sits up, you see him smiling.

You quickly run back to the room, trying to be as quiet as possible as the lights around the house flicker off. Jumping into the bed, you curl into the warmth of your blanket as Chava’s shadow begins to trail down the hallway.

The cool Colombian night washes over you as Chava lifts up the blanket, but as soon as he slips in next to you, you’re enveloped into the warmth that you’ve fallen so in love with. You can feel the tension released from his muscles as you wrap your arms around him.

You send a silent thank you to your abuela.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

Chava definitely likes showing off his body just a little bit. He works all day around the plantation, just building up muscle. It’s hard not to be proud of the fact that he looks really good.

But he won’t ever explicitly tell you about it. His shirts are very well fitted across his broad shoulders. It’s hard to keep your eyes from travelling over the fabric as he flexes.

He knows.

The whole town knows.

There’s been a few murmurs here and there of strip poker sessions, many months before you showed up but so late in the night that the sun dares to rise. And alongside every single murmur is Chava’s name.

They speak of how the shady bar lights drag across his tan skin and over his muscles. How he throws his shirt over his shoulder before sitting back in his chair and bringing a beer to his lips.

There’s a favorite moment of yours, though.

God, the moment he puts his truck into reverse, setting his hand on the back of your headrest as he stretches to look behind you. His jawline somehow manages to get sharper as the muscles in his neck pull, exposing skin that you desperately want to run your lips over.

He can see the blush crawling up on your cheeks as you stare at him. It’s shameless, but you truly can’t help but take in the moment. He’ll bite his lip to stop a smirk, and raise an eyebrow at you, feigning innocence until you crash your lips against his.

W = Wedding (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

Chava’s thought of your wedding for most of his life. He couldn’t help it, especially with abuela being part of his planning committee. She had a binder at the ready, with everything that she wanted to be a part of your wedding.

“Pero, abuela, this isn’t your wedding!”

“Chava, I do not care.”

It had to be on the plantation. It had to be, or else abuela might come back and crash your wedding. She also wanted red roses, specifically.

So when the moment came that he thought about proposing, he went to get the binder. It lives on the highest shelf in the house, high enough that abuela always used a chair to grab it down, and high enough that you’d never look up that far.

The binder weighed heavy in his hands, and he looked at the first page.

Chava, when you’re ready to propose, I have a ring. Ask Beto.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

Besame Mucho.

Besame mucho, como si fuera esta noche la última vez – Kiss me a lot, as if this night were the last time.

Que tengo miedo perderte después – for I’m afraid I will lose you afterwards.

Quiero sentirte muy cerca, mirarme en tus ojos, verte junto a mí – I want to feel you close, to look at myself in your eyes, to see you close to me

Piensa que tal vez mañana, yo ya estaré lejos, muy lejos de ti – I think that maybe by tomorrow, I will already be far, far away from you

Every day, Chava loses himself in the feeling of your lips against his, the warmth of your tongue moving over his, the way his heart melts as you tangle your fingers in his hair.

With El Fantasma constantly at his back and the sudden death of your abuela, he refuses to let a day pass by that you don’t feel incredibly, radically loved by him.

Before the passing of La Dama Roja, Chava was very, very sure that he’d never see you again. It’d been much too long since the last time, but his feelings seemed to only grow stronger each day. So when you came back, he vowed to give you as many kisses as you wished.

But there’s a sinking feeling he gets in his gut. It burns more and more each moment he settles on the thought.

Maybe one day, you’ll see something better. A man who’s not being chased by a Colombian gang. A man who can provide for you better than he can.

Chava always kisses you with everything he has, pouring every ounce of love into it, so if you were to ever leave, he’d know he’d given you his all.

Would he know the bittersweet pain of your last kiss? Or would he be ignorant to whatever demise would ultimately befall your relationship?

Maybe El Fantasma will finally catch up with him.

But even though he may have his fears, there’s something special about the way you look at him. It’s a glimmer somewhere deep in your eyes, sparkling back at him. It’s like looking deep into the night sky, but if he looks past the stars, he sees himself.

It’s shocking at first – he’s literally gotten lost in your eyes. But there’s really something quite shocking about the moment he sees himself. It crashes over him like a wave, and suddenly he’s flooded with emotion.

And he pulls you close to him, unwilling to let you go anytime soon.

Y = Yes (When, how, where do they propose?)

Chava’s known all along where it was going to happen.

It was just a normal day for you, the sun came up and came back down. You’d spent time with everyone on the plantation. It seemed like everyone needed or wanted to see you, passing you from one person to the next.

Las Tres Hermanas pulled you into about an hour of sorting, saying you should close your eyes and do your best to help them. It turned out to be a trainwreck. You couldn’t seem to tell what was good and what wasn’t, but they managed to sort everything out. What took you an hour took them not even five minutes.

And then Aurora asked that you make some desserts with her. You ended up spending a few hours chatting and baking and singing along with the wind. It wasn’t bad, but by the end of it, the sun was just about to fall over the horizon for the day.

But just as you were about to put on your coat, Lucia barges into the kitchen, demanding that you help her with her math homework. It’d really been a while since you saw trigonometry, but you decided to stick around and see if you could be of any assistance anyways. By the end, it was more like Lucia taught you than you helping her. And the sun had officially retired, letting the moon take its place in the sky.

“Don’t go yet!” Lucia shouted, grabbing onto your sleeve as you began to stand up from the table. Sleep started to drag at you, and it all felt a little strange, but when you looked into her face, you saw something that made you stay.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, concern flickering over you.

Lucia’s eyes flash with anxiety as her fingers tighten around your wrist. “I’m having… boy problems.”

It all makes sense now.

You return to your seat, letting Lucia talk as long as she needs. It’s a story that seems to wind without end, and kind of seems like something that would happen in Gilmore Girls, but you try to give the best advice you can.

“I think Dean seems like a really nice boy, and he seems to really care about you. Maybe you should tell him you love him too?”

And after another couple of hours of stories, you can see Aurora come out from her bedroom. It almost looks like she gives the smallest, most imperceptible nod. But the moment she does, all of Lucia’s problems seem to melt away.

“You know what, I think I will tell him!” She says, before promptly pushing herself from the table and running to her room.

As your mind swirls with everything she’s just unloaded onto you, the front door clicks open, and you see Chava shrugging off his jacket.

Immediately, you go up to throw yourself into his arms, and he laughs as you bury your face into his chest. It’s a hearty laugh, strong and deep as he tightens his arms around you.

After a few moments lost in the sound of his heartbeat, you look up into his eyes, softening at the sight of you in his arms, and he presses his lips to yours. The world melts away, replaced with the sweetest feeling of his kiss.

Pulling away, he presses his forehead against yours, smiling. “Mi alma, come with me. I have something to show you.”

You take his hand as he wraps his jacket around you, leading you out the door.

You follow him until he leads you to a very familiar pond. It’s lit gently with fireflies in jars, and flowers thrown along the ground. The yellow light falls from the little bugs, mixing with the white of the moon. The wind whistles around you as you remember the time you were last here.

The tadpole wedding.

Your first kiss.

Chava immediately takes your hand in his, and as you look up at him, you see him framed completely by twinkling stars. He smiles as you fall into him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist.

“This is familiar, yes?”

“Very, very familiar, Chava.”

“Good.”

“Why did you do this?”

When you look up into his hazel eyes again, they’re shining. You’re completely stunned at the sight of him, a warm hand gently resting against his heart.

It beats rapidly underneath the tips of your fingers.

“I love you, cariño. I have known this all my life. This was the place I fell in love with you. You kissed me after I ruined our whole tadpole wedding. I tripped because I was lost in thought. I just kept thinking about what our wedding would be like, when we were all grown.

But then you left. And I tried to move on as best I could. It was hard. I knew I could never love anyone else as much as I loved you, even if we were just kids.”

“Chava, I-“

“Listen, estrellita,” He chuckles, “And then I thought I’d never see you again. Abuela was certain you would come back to Colombia. I’d never seen her so sure about anything. But the moment I laid eyes on you for the first time, after all these years, I was in love with you even more than ever before.

You give me so much life. Everything is so much better with you in it, I never want you to leave.

Mi cielito, mi media naranja, mi amor,”

Your heart skips a beat as your name falls from his lips.

“Be my past, my present, and my future.”

And he gets down on one knee.

“Chava-“

“You must stop interrupting me.” He laughs. “I’m almost done.”

His eyes brim with tears as he looks up at you, surrounded by white moonlight.

“Marry me.”

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

After you get married, he’d probably ask if you wanted to get a dog. When he was young, his family had a German Shepherd to watch over the house, but he loved that dog more than he thought possible.

He calls him Santo, and they walk together throughout the plantation every day. From the moment that he gets up for work, Santo walks alongside Chava until they’re done with morning rounds, then takes a couple laps on his own.

Everyone loves Santo. You got him as a puppy, and raised him around the plantation, so everyone who’s worked there has gotten to know the little guy until he became not-so-little anymore. Aurora and Lucia are really fond of Santo. He’s family to both of them, and Lucia is always sneaking him little pieces of her dinner.

And after everything that’s happened since your abuela died, you feel safer having Santo around, sleeping at the foot of your bed. You know he would do anything to protect you, just like Chava would.

#chava cerilla #fictif chava #who killed la dama roja #heir to love and lies #fictif wkldr #i cannot believe the name has changed i don't know what to tag this anymore

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