#literally if you haven't done it lately go find somewhere dark and see the stars. v important.

[essektheylyss]

Okay but for real, please download Merlin, the Cornell-based bird-logging app. It is so great. It will tell you about birds in your area. It will make you so insufferable on hikes and outings. It doesn't have any comments section so if this site gets nuked do NOT try to find me there but know that that's where I'm hanging. Having a great time birdwatching. Logging the bluejay that bullies my cats. Helping researchers track where birds are for climate change-related population monitoring. 10/10, highly recommend getting a life and doing some silly birdwatching.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ NO WITHOUT YOU ❜

First part: Don't cross the line.

with Hank ‘Tranq’ Loza.

Warnings: none.

Word count: about 1.8k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: @sonsofeorl

Masterlist.

You were happy playing that tug-of-war through the years, feeling loved, appreciated and wanted. Feeling as if you were at home whenever he managed to hug you secretly, separated from the rest, imagining that you were completely alone in the world; with no worries, no fears, no unhappiness. Just you two enjoying the closeness, your skins, your scents getting mixed, your breathings dancing with the other. Just you two, alone. But he had to make it real. To push you out from your bubble, from your comfort zone. And now you're fucked, more than ever. Maybe you're acting like a coward, after days without stepping on the clubhouse, hiding yourself from him. Avoiding and declining his calls, not texting him back. Not opening the door when he comes to your house, even if he sits to wait for you for hours. You could never have thought that loving someone could be this painful. It feels like you're drowning, like when a wave swallows you and makes you roll towards the bottom. And no matter how many efforts you use to swim to the surface, because the wave pushes you down again, when you think that you are reaching it.

Pouring some tequila inside the small shot, you drink it by one gulp, feeling the burning sensation hurting your throat. Cleaning your mouth with the back of your left hand, you have a smoke from the cigar, with your eyes fixed on the horizon. The night has fallen down, covering the desert with his darkness but slightly illuminating it by the moon shine and all the stars spread across the sky. That would be the perfect night to die for love, if it weren't for the door that gets opened and closed in almost three seconds. With your legs curled against your chest and your chin resting over them, you have another drag waiting for your tío to step out to the small garden. He has seen you acting weirdly lately, but he didn't ask. And he didn't ask anything either, when you told him that you were going to stay at his house for some days. But finding you like that changes everything. Taking off the jacket of his suit and rolling up the sleeves by his arms, the mexican sits by your side, serving himself a shot. You rest your cheek over your knees, you watch him drink it in silence.

“It's okay if you don't want to talk with your father, mija, but talk to me, sí?” Marcus pulls away a tuft of hair, behind your ear.

“I'm in love, tío”. You mumble with your lips trembling about to cry again.

“Oh, mi niña”. He says hugging you with a fleeting smile appearing on his lips, in the meantime that his arms surround your body. “And why are you sad, ah? Being in love it's something amazing”.

“Being in love is a fucking shit”. You spit full of rage, with some tears touring your cheeks.

“Why do you say that? Is it not reciprocated? That man has to be fucking crazy to not fall in love with you, mija”.

“He does, tío. He does with all his heart”. You shake your head, pulling yourself away from his arms to look at him. “But… my father would never accept it”.

“Why?”

“Because… he is a Mayan. A brother. Part of the family”.

“Tell me it's not Ang—”.

“Shit, no”. You chuckle cleaning your cry from your face.

“Don't misunderstand me, he's a good man, but… I can't imagine you together”. He replies then with a soft laugh between his teeth. “So, are you going to tell me who is the lucky one?”

You doubt. You know he's not going to judge you, but you're not sure how he is going to react. Having a long, long smoke, until it drags your throat, you let it go through your nose.

“Tranq”. You just answer in a whisper.

Marcus leans back his head some inches, assimilating what you have said. The name you have given him. He's trying to remember some moments of you two together. Ephemeral caresses, some dearly and furtive smiles, pet-names in random occasions. He is starting to spin the situations, in a silence that makes you feel uncomfortable.

“Tío, say something…”

“You just…” He tries to speak, rubbing his chin with one of his hands. “How I didn't notice it before? Since when it's happening?”

“Since we met, six years ago”.

“Damn, mija! Six years? You two have been carrying this shit for six years? Hiding it from your father?” Marcus is really surprised, but you are not because of his reaction. “But, what is the matter? Why aren't you two together?”

“Do you think that my fa—?”

“Your father only wants happiness for you, mija. If he loves you, he will understand it. We don't choose who we fall in love with, or of who not”. He tries to make you understand, gently caressing the back of your head and your hair. “You should go to the clubhouse. Talk with them. Take charge of your life, mija. And stop hiding what you feel for what people could think. Even if it's your father who you are worried for”.

“I… drank six shots, tío”.

“I can take you”. Shrugging his shoulders, he stands up over his feet offering you a hand. “Take a shower, change that… horrible pajama and get ready. I'll be waiting for you here”.

Pursing your lips, you nod getting up from the grass, shaking your clothes before coming inside the house right to your room. You try to be quick, and the cold water covering your body is very helpful. Wearing black jeans, a crop top and a pair of sneakers, grabbing your phone and the keys of the house. Drying your hair again with a towel, you go out of the dorm looking for Marcus. You're literally shaking when you put the seat belt around you, facing the fact that you are really to end with your pain. That you are going to tell your father that you are in love and that he has to accept it, as your tío said. And when the black SUV reaches the front yard, you feel that you're about to die, seeing the older men sitting there and sharing some beers. Taza, Riz, Tranq and your father are staring at the car, watching you step out of it accompanied by Marcus.

Bishop is about to get up to greet you, but your raised hand towards him stops his moves, sitting down again confused and intrigued. Rubbing your face with both hands until your skin burns a little, you try to organize the words inside your head. But as much as you think about it, it only gets worse. Licking your lips, you first focus on your father.

“Dad… I love you and I respect you more than anyone, but I have to do something that you may not like it”.

Turning some inches towards Tranq, you bow your head for a second trying to breathe before looking for his eyes.

“These days have been a fucking shit without you. I'm sorry for not calling or texting you back. For not opening my door when you came. For avoiding you at all cost. For acting like a… fucking coward. But the truth is that I can't live without you. I don't wanna live without you. Not anymore. I love you. I've been doing it since six years ago”. In your speechless you can see how your father hits Tranq's chest, tangling his fingers in the green rosary, spitting some beer on the floor. If there's a level over being ‘fucking surprised’, your father is there. Totally maddened in silence, turning his face from you to his brother, once and again.

“It was you, cabrón?” He asks with both eyes opened too much.

“Bishop, list—”. Hank is about to defend himself, when your father throws himself to the floor, kneeling and his hands tangled in a huge fist.

“¡Por el amor de Dios, gracias!” (For God's sake, thank you).

Maybe it's the effect of the six shots you drank, but you're as lost as the crew is.

“Shit… All these years thinking you were with Angel… Oh, fuck!” He yells to the air, getting up and hardly breathing with a hand on his chest. “Oh, shit, mi vida. For a second I thought you came to tell me that you're pregnant or something like that. Fuck! I was on the edge of a heart attack”.

“See? I told you”. Your tío whispers into your ear.

“Oh, man…” Your father is laughing, starting to scare you because of his excitement, until he turns around to face Tranq showing him a serious gesture. “Because you haven't gotten her pregnant, right?”

“Bishop, I haven't touch her in sex years”. He just replies, getting up from his chair and leaving away the beer.

“But, do you love her or what?”

“Yes. Of course, I do”.

“Why yo—”.

“Dad, it's okay. We just… I think we need to talk”. You mumble, keeping your hands inside the pockets of your jacket, making a gesture with your neck towards Hank to follow you.

Biting your lower lip by a side, you start to walk right to the clubhouse. The most difficult part is done, and you can't stop thinking how stupid you have been. Setting him apart just for a paranoia. Just because your father might have retaliated against him. Coming inside, you wait for Tranq to close the door.

“I'm so so—”.

You can't finish the sentence when he takes two big steps closer, holding your face into his arms to crash your lips with his. You're about to falter, feeling the tears of relief filling your closed eyes. His tongue tastes much better when it finds yours, walking backwards through the hallway to the dorms. You need it. So he does. You can't wait for much more, blinded looking for the doorknob to turn it and open the room. His hands on your ass urged you to jump onto him, surrounding his waist with both legs.

“Fuck, mi vida…” He whispers lying down on his bed. “I don't give a shit about the distance, if you have to leave again”.

His voice breaks between short kisses, going down to your neck and his hands pawing your body over the clothes.

“I'm not leaving”. You gasp softly, taking off the leather kutte to throw it somewhere on the floor.

“What?” All his moves stop dead, pulling himself away for a second to look at you.

“I came because… I have a job offer in the hospital of Santo Padre. A permanent one”.

“You're not… leaving to New York again?” Simply shaking your head, you smile gentle, intertwining a hand in his necklace to push him closer.

“I wanna stay with you”.

“Of course you're staying with me, mi amor”.

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