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gothcsz · 5 months

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𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter VI.

GIF CREDIT

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: The highly anticipated state fair performance. Here's what I envision Paloma singing: Gunpowder & Lead - Miranda Lambert, One Way or Another - Blondie, Poor, Poor Pitiful Me - Linda Ronstadt, Edge of Seventeen - Stevie Nicks. [ mini playlist ]

WORD COUNT: ~8k

RATING: 18+ Mature topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: The interrupted right before kissing trope is strong with this one, i think most of this is considered fluff, they're still pining after one another, other things that I'm probably forgetting.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS: The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized.

A/N: as promised, here's the other chapter for the week! i had so much fun writing this and expanding on their dynamic omg… first of all a little commotion for miss paloma…. the icon that she is! also couldn't help myself by having javi wear that sexy ass blue shirt in this… he is just so handsome… i need him BIBLICALLY i fear! i hope you guys enjoy reading, i have so much planned for this fic and it's going to get really messy here soon (: i might even post a lil moodboard for it. anyways feel free to drop any type of feedback/support on this blog or ao3. i'd really appreciate it <3

♰ read on ao3. ♰

♰ playlist | pinterest | series masterlist ♰

Finally, it’s the day of her long awaited state fair performance and Paloma is absolutely overflowing with anticipation, her energy bounding through the house like a whirlwind.

The night before was a restless blur, nerves and excitement intertwining to steal away her sleep.

She had read a variety of newspaper articles to get more information on the fair itself. She uncovered the staggering scope of its annual attendance; a revelation that both fueled her trepidation and determination.

Her heart pounded like distant drums as the reality set in: hundreds, no, thousands of eyes would be fixed upon her. The prospect thrilled her to her core, yet it also stirred a profound stage fright.

Rarely does she feel said stage fright; memory of her last instance dating back to when she was fourteen, trembling as she took the stage at The Whiskey Fox for the very first time. Since then, her journey has been a voyage of calm seas, and now, as she’s grown into her own, Paloma is enveloped in a sense of serene confidence.

It’s understandable that she’s apprehensive about transitioning from a smaller venue to a stage at a grander event. There’s a tinge of sadness in her heart knowing that her father wouldn’t be there to accompany her. He’s witnessed her artistic evolution firsthand and has always been her staunchest supporter. Her number one fan.

Unfortunately, duty calls and with Jessica Valdez still missing; he was needed here.

On the other hand, Javier’s presence was not as essential, and Romeo practically burst with joyful relief when Paloma revealed that he would be her companion all the way to Dallas.

Just as she had expected.

Earlier in the morning, before heading off to the station, the sheriff had popped into her bedroom to wish her luck. With a tender gaze, he doted on his daughter, expressing his pride in her and, in his own unique manner, even offered a subtle apology for his recent behavior. As always, she embraced his understanding with ease, and in that moment, the weight of apprehension that had been bearing down on her lifted, replaced by a sense of relief and reassurance.

She’s currently stationed in her bedroom, sitting at her vanity and meticulously rolling her thick locks into velvety rollers that she intends to keep in place throughout the entire four-hour journey to the city. Her face is bare, dressed in a tank top and shorts and she doesn’t plan on doing much to her appearance until they make it to the fairgrounds.

As a soft rumble fills the air, she casts a glance out of her bedroom window, her lips curling into a smile at the sight of Javier’s truck rolling into view.

Fuck, she reflects on the unexpected bravery it took to ask him to join her. While her primary concern was appeasing her father, she also couldn’t deny the appeal of spending time with him.

Despite her bold and flirtatious gestures, Paloma is sure that if the opportunity to actually fuck him ever arose, she would be overcome with nerves. Don’t get her wrong; she longs to indulge her selfish desires and surrender to him completely. Yet, the thought of not meeting his expectations casts a shadow of doubt over her.

Oh, for fucks sake, Paloma— when have you ever cared about living up to a man’s expectations?

She scoffs at herself, bobby pin between her teeth as she rushes down the stairs to answer Javier’s knocking.

“I am on time, right?” He quips, his voice carrying a playful tone from the other side of the screen door since the wooden door that usually blocks it is wide open.

“Sure are. I’m the one that’s runnin’ behind. Don’t worry— just gotta get my damn hair rolled up and we’ll be ready to go. You can come in.” She motions for him to enter, pausing in the hallway that stretches toward the foyer. She steals a moment to glance at her reflection in the mirror, deftly sliding the bobby pin into her hair to secure the roller in place.

As Javier crosses the threshold, the screen door emits a reluctant groan, briefly stirring the awareness that they are alone once more in the house. However, her attention remains steadfast on ensuring that her hair is perfectly secured, leaving no room for wariness to take hold.

His gaze lingers on her figure and a gentle flush spreads across her cheeks and down her neck as she becomes acutely aware of the extent of her attire’s exposure. The lack of a bra allows her breasts to sway with every subtle movement, her nipples prominent against the fabric.

“Need help gettin’ anything into the car, nena?” With a casual lean against the wall where the mirror hangs, he directs his question to her.

“Yeah, it’s all in my room.” She spins on her heel, striding towards the stairs, with him silently shadowing her steps. The realization dawns on her that he will soon enter her room, prompting her eyes to widen in alarm as she takes in the chaotic scene before her— it looks like a fucking tornado has run through the space.

She doesn’t have any time to block him from seeing it though, and she bites down on her tongue and mentally curses herself for not cleaning up as she got ready.

Considering how frantic she’s been all morning, of course she hadn’t stopped to think about tidying up.

“Sorry for the mess… it’s been a morning.” She grumbles and Javier can’t help but be amused.

Surveying the room from the doorway, he takes in the entirety of the space, his broad figure remaining at the threshold. Posters adorn the walls, each reflecting her eclectic tastes. From the timeless southern charm of Dolly Parton to the ethereal melodies of Fleetwood Mac and the vibrant rhythms of Donna Summer. Their presence doesn’t surprise him. Instead, they offer a window into her personality, providing insight into her interests and preferences.

Javier tries not to analyze her by the things she has in her bedroom, yet he finds himself irresistibly drawn in.

It’s a facet of his innate curiosity.

He notices the scattered articles of clothing, a digital piano tucked away in the corner, and her bed left invitingly tousled. He can’t help but imagine how soft her sheets must be, laced with the natural smell of her.

Amidst the wall space left by absent posters, her bedroom is adorned with an array of framed personal photographs, each encapsulating cherished memories from childhood whimsy to high school triumphs, and all the moments in between.

Yet, it’s the family portrait resting atop her vanity that draws Javier’s eye. He strains to decipher the intricate details of the photograph from where he stands, its contents obscured by the tilt of the frame.

Paloma, attuned to his intense focus, trails his gaze, her stomach tightening at the realization.

Oh.

“Here, it’s my makeup bag and outfit. Please be careful taking this down. I spent all morning ironing it.” In an effort to divert his attention from the photograph, Paloma passes him her belongings. He carefully examines her features in an attempt at finding reason for her reaction, a half smile tugging at his lips.

“So bossy, hermosa. Don’t worry— your things are in capable hands.” He is reluctant to depart, preferring to linger and observe her as she completes her preparations, all the while mentally dissecting her character through the lens of her bedroom’s decor.

“Sorry, I’m just nervous.” She confesses, making her way back to her vanity, inconspicuously moving the photo of her, her mother and father out of the way as she returns to the tedious task of curling then rolling her hair.

“You’ll be fine. Pressure can either crush you or make you shine brighter. Let it be the latter. And hey, no matter what happens tonight— I’ll be right there cheering you on.” The reassurance flows from him without much thought, a rare occurrence for the man who typically struggles with offering comfort. There’s a naturalness to it, as if the words are drawn from some deep wellspring within him, bypassing the usual barriers of hesitation and uncertainty.

Paloma, sensing the sincerity in his gaze reflected back at her through the mirror, finds herself caught in the spell of his eyes. In that fleeting connection, she grants him a tender smile, her heart responding to his affection.

Unsurprisingly, the words bring her some ease, especially since she’s aware of how difficult it can be for him to muster up any type of verbal compassion. He’s a man of few words, after all, so each one carries extra weight when spoken.

“Thanks, cowboy, M’grateful for your support… and y’know, for taggin’ along even though you didn’t have to.” He nods at her, letting the comfortable silence speak for itself as she continues to get ready.

He senses an underlying urgency within her. Experience whispers caution in his ear, reminding him of the cardinal rule gleaned from years of female companionship: never incur their wrath while they are in the midst of getting ready. And so, he tears himself away, surrendering to the unspoken dictates of the feminine domain.

They’re just thirty minutes away from their destination, yet she remains fixated on the changing landscape outside the window. Her claim of not leaving Seminary in over a decade rings true, evident in the awe reflected in her eyes at the sight of skyscrapers and influx of people.

Javier can’t help but find her genuine amazement endearing, particularly as she gazes out with her hair pinned up stylishly, secured by a silk scarf. The journey to Dallas spans four hours, but the lively conversation between them makes the time fly by, rendering the trip far shorter than it actually is.

Their growing closeness feels like a beautiful risk as they delve deeper into each other’s lives with every passing mile.

“Y’know, I actually do know some Spanish.” she remarked, drumming her fingers lightly against her thigh.

“I had a hunch when you never asked me to translate my sweet talking.” With an arrogant smirk, he looks over at her.

His smirk has her playfully rolling her eyes, “No puedo leer o escribir tan bien, pero entiendo y hablo en forma conversacional. (I can’t read it or write it very well, but I understand it and speak conversationally.)” In a tender twist, her voice took on a sweeter tone in the other language, prompting Javi to shift in his seat, attempting to refrain from envisioning the enchanting timbre of her words whispered intimately in the quiet sanctuary of his sheets.

“Tu acento (Your accent) … Argentinian?” He’s got a real talent for picking up languages and accents, honed through his international collaborations in the field.

Paloma just shrugged, “Your guess is as good as mine. My momma taught me and she never really talked about her life before meetin’ daddy and stuff. I never really asked questions. After she passed, I didn’t keep up with it as much as I should have.”

The pauses in their conversation are rare, occurring only when the topics of family or his experiences in Colombia arise. Javier notices her keen interest in these subjects, her curiosity palpable. While he has been guarded about delving into anything beyond surface-level details, he finds himself gradually warming up to the notion of sharing a glimpse of his past with her, if only to satisfy her insatiable curiosity.

Yet, he holds back. This wasn’t the time. He wasn’t about to cast a shadow over her spirits.

“I can’t believe this is happening.”

Paloma disrupts the tranquil hush that had settled between them, her fascination with the scenery outside pulling her into the moment.

“Well, believe it cariño because we’re not too far from the fairgrounds.”

“It’s like... a dream. I know, I might sound naive and childish gettin’ this worked up about performing at a damn fair. It just means a lot to me. I’ve poured my heart into my music for so long and to see it culminate in this moment is just... thrilling.”

A pang of longing for her mother’s presence washes over her, silently echoing within her thoughts. Yet she refrains from uttering the sentiment aloud, keeping her yearning hidden beneath a veil of silence.

“It’s a big and well deserved step forward, Paloma.” He pauses briefly, looking over at her, “This means the world to you. You’re going to be amazing.”

Javier’s hand, warm and reassuring, gently finds hers, creating a tender connection that sends a surge of warmth coursing through her veins. The soft brush of his skin against hers ignites a gentle flutter in her chest, stirring feelings she doesn’t want to admit. It’s as if a silent symphony plays between their touch, drawing her attention away from the scenery outside and directing it towards him.

With a soft, almost imperceptible smile, she meets his gaze, finding a silent reassurance and a flicker of something more lingering in his brown eyes.

Arriving at their designated area, meticulously mapped out in a thorough letter sent by Wendy to Paloma, she eagerly jumps out of his truck, bubbling with excitement, while he indulgently rolls his eyes at her enthusiasm.

Delighted to find the band already present and nearly done with setup, she breezes towards them despite her ridiculous appearance, exuding a radiant glow that outshines any imperfection. Her infectious happiness spreads like wildfire as she enthusiastically goes through the rundown of the gig with the group.

Javier stays out of the way, leaning against the bed of his truck. With a cigarette between his fingers and wisps of smoke curling into the air, he drifts into introspection

His mind becomes a labyrinth of memories, weaving through the tapestry of his past— the triumphs and tribulations, the moments of light and shadow. Amidst the haze of contemplation, he finds clarity in the decision that brought him to this juncture: the choice to refrain from confronting the Cali cartel.

Having spent years evading the ordinary, Javier stumbles upon an unforeseen refuge in monotony. With the weight of his taxing agent job finally lifted, he embraces the simplicity of everyday life with a newfound sense of relief.

As the days pass, Javier slowly discovers a peace he has long evaded, savoring the quiet moments that once seemed dull.

While the looming homicide cases in Seminary present formidable challenges, each one a puzzle demanding his attention, he approaches them with a newfound confidence. It’s a stark contrast to the uncertainty that had clouded his final days in Colombia.

However, amidst this newfound tranquility, there persists a secret too delicate to utter aloud. His ongoing infatuation with Paloma, a woman whose presence has become both a source of comfort and turmoil. He won’t acknowledge her significant role in his newfound ability to cope. Such complexities are best left uncharted, buried beneath the surface of their convoluted relationship.

Engrossed in his thoughts, Javier doesn’t notice when she approaches him.

“M’gonna go get ready. Sure you can survive a few hours without me?” She teases him and he exhales the smoke away from her, the aviators on his face masking the adoration gleaming in his eyes.

“I think I should be asking you that question, palomita.” The new term of endearment sends her heart aflutter, and she can’t help but feel how it resonates more when Javier says it in Spanish compared to when August had uttered it in English...

Little dove.

“In that case, no, I’d simply crumble without you.” She over exaggerates her words, punctuating them with a playful gesture and a touch of dramatic flair.

Their laughter intertwines, and her smile blooms into a radiant expression of affection.

“Órale nena, go get ready before you’re late to your own performance.” Javier indulges in another puff of his cigarette, and like the good girl she is, she saunters around the truck to fetch her belongings before heading off to the portable trailer, her makeshift dressing room for the evening.

In Paloma’s absence, he engages in conversation with the band members. Comprising three men and one woman, they share with him the story of how they met and how Paloma reignited their passion for music. The narrative resonates with her persona and innate ability to effortlessly charm those in her presence.

Javier an unsuspecting victim of this charm.

When the sun begins to set, he looks down at his watch to check the time as her lively voice draws near.

“Alright y’all, how do I look?”

Javier’s gaze falls on her. It’s as if the world around him fades into insignificance, leaving only her radiant presence to fill his senses. His breath gets caught in his chest, suspended in the awe that washes over him.

She beams with pride at the ensemble she’s meticulously curated.

A crimson leather corset embraces her waist with finesse, fashioned in the likeness of a halter top, baring her shoulders and presenting a tantalizing canvas of skin for all eyes to see. Her cleavage looks so inviting, accentuated by her mother’s cross pendant nestled against her breasts. She transformed a pair of aged low-rise jeans, adding intricate rhinestone patterns that promise to dance enchantingly under the glare of the stage lights.

The buckle on her belt is beautiful and distinguishable, an important accessory down here in Texas; she’s made sure that her boots match her attire.

Her hair cascades in perfect waves, thick and luscious, framing her face with a touch of effortless glamor. It’s been a long time since she’s had a full face of makeup on, and the strip lashes are uncomfortable against the sensitive skin but beauty is pain and goddamnit she’s stunning.

She feels the part of a super star, and her band members do nothing but boost her ego as they begin to shower her in compliments and friendly catcalls. She indulges them with a twirl, allowing them to admire her outfit from every angle.

Javier stays silent, dumbfounded entirely by how fucking hot she looks.

“I think I just saw a horsefly fly into his mouth.” One of the bandmates teases and this has Javier snapping out of it, meeting Paloma’s expectant gaze.

For a man who always has something to say, especially in the company of beautiful women, he finds himself at a loss for words.

“You look gorgeous, querida.”

She blushes, murmuring a soft ‘thank you’ as her eyes momentarily flicker down to her square-toed boots. It’s exasperating how easily he can get her flustered. The compliment isn’t extravagant, yet it strikes her deeply nonetheless.

She won’t admit that the extra effort she invested in her appearance tonight was not just for the event; but also for him. She is aware that Javier finds her attractive and it harbors this desire to unveil a new facet of her beauty to him so he can see all the types of beautiful she can be.

As the rest of the group disperses to squeeze in some last minute warm ups, Paloma saunters toward him. Her hands rest confidently on her hips as his gaze traverses the curves of her form, unabashed and unapologetic.

“I’m serious. You look hot and I know you’ll look even better when you’re up there doin’ what you’re so passionate about.” His words have her heart racing, igniting a kaleidoscope of fireworks that burst with intensity within her core.

“You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you?”

“Only when I’m around someone as captivating as you.”

Fuck.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, you know.”

“Is that so?” With a contemplative tilt of his head, he gazes at her, his aviators now absent, allowing her to lose herself yet again in the depths of his enchanting eyes. “Well, in that case, I’ll have to keep it coming. After all, I can’t resist making a beautiful woman smile.”

They stand toe to toe, Paloma tilting her chin upward to meet his gaze while Javier gently inclines his head downward to meet her eyes.

As he looks down at her, the thought of planting a gentle kiss on her lips, a token of good luck, flits through his mind. Just as the impulse begins to take hold, fate intervenes and Paloma is called to the stage, leaving their moment suspended in anticipation.

“Break a leg, palomita.” He tells her, stepping back so she can make her way up the steps.

It is both everything yet nothing she expected.

As she ascended the stage, she discerned a comforting familiarity: the typical audience size from her usual gigs back home. This recognition alone served as a balm to her nerves, reassuring her that she could handle it.

It felt decidedly manageable. Yet, as the performance progressed, the crowd swelled to such a density that individual faces blurred into an indistinguishable mass, a sea of humanity stretching before her.

With every fiber of her being, she poured herself into that performance, channeling raw emotion and passion into each note. This may very well be her first and last time gracing an event this grand, and she was determined to leave an indelible mark.

This wasn’t just a performance; it was a cathartic release, a showcase of her skills. It is no surprise that the crowd was thoroughly charmed and entertained beyond measure.

As the final note faded into the night, she knew she’d given it her all, leaving nothing but her heart and soul on that stage.

She reaches the backstage area, exuding palpable excitement and practically launching herself into Javier’s awaiting embrace. He catches her with ease, sensing the electrifying energy coursing through her as her arms wrap tightly around him in a warm hug. With her legs securely wrapped around his waist, he spins her around in a joyful twirl before gently lowering her back to the ground, their shared enthusiasm filling the air with an infectious energy.

“You did so good, hermosa.” Javier gazes warmly at her, his lips curved in a genuine smile.

“That was so exhilarating, holy shit!” The expletives fly from her lips and this only deepens his amusement.

“Like, I almost blacked out out of excitement.” Paloma inhales deeply, her chest expanding and contracting with each breath, her heart pounding so vigorously it feels as if it might leap from her chest at any moment.

The rest of the band gathers around, exchanging congratulations and warm embraces. Paloma takes a moment to express her heartfelt gratitude, her voice tinged with sentimentality as she thanks them for steadfastly supporting her seemingly silly musical aspirations.

“Oh, that reminds me,” She breaks away from the small group, strolling over to Javier’s truck. Retrieving her purse, she rummages inside and retrieves a disposable camera she had brought along for the occasion. “Can you take a picture of us?” She asks with a gentle pout, her eyes sparkling as she looks up at Javier.

“‘Course.” Javi readily accepts the camera from her hand and steps back to make sure they’re all in frame. He snaps the photo, the flash is blinding for the split second it appears before he hands her back the camera.

“Gracias cowboy.”

Her voice carries a playful sweetness that has him feeling like a lovestruck fool.

The band leaves to head back home, the sun now fully set as Javier and Paloma remain. Their figures casually propped against his truck, casting a relaxed silhouette against the backdrop of the vibrant fair lights sprawled out before them.

“We should get going—”

“You’re kidding, right?” Paloma interrupts, leveraging herself off the hood of the truck with a fluid motion, positioning herself directly in his line of sight. Her hands find their place firmly on her hips, projecting an aura of assertiveness.

“No…?” He answers unsurely, his gaze sweeping over her form from head to toe.

“I haven’t been to the fair since I was a kid. I just have to ride one ride... and indulge in some fried goodness... and maybe try one of those tricky carnival games,” She shares eagerly, her lower lip caught between her teeth.

She gazes at him with those bewitching eyes of hers, he silently curses himself for knowing he’ll give in.

“I dunno, princesa, it’s getting pretty late…” Fighting a fight he knows he’ll lose, he still moves forward with his opposition. The least desirable outcome from staying late would be facing an irate sheriff questioning why his daughter returned home in the dead of night instead of the earlier time she’d promised.

“Oh don’t be such a stick in the mud. We’re allowed to have fun every once and a while. If it’s my daddy you’re worried about; he’ll get over it.” Paloma draws nearer to him, her hands delicately clasped behind her back, the fusion of her perfume and innate scent enthralls him completely.

Javier can’t help but surrender to her charm.

“Fine.”

A large smile spreads on her crimson tinted lips and she squeals, clapping her hands together before tugging him in the direction of the bustling fair.

The first thing Paloma does is drag him over to a food stand where she proceeds to order a funnel cake, fried oreos and two way too large lemonades.

“Fried oreos?” His nose scrunches at the idea which earns him a soft slap to the arm.

“They are quite literally the best damn thing to ever be invented.” She defends the unhealthy snack, reaching into her bag to pull out money to pay but Javier stops her before she gets the chance to.

As he smoothly glides a bill across the counter, Paloma feels a warm flush creep up her cheeks at the simple gesture. A flicker of uncertainty dances in her mind as she ponders the significance of this moment— is it possible that this is... a date?

No, certainly it isn’t. It’s an outing between two friends. He is just being a gentleman and paying for their food. No big deal, right?

In the quiet recesses of her mind, she revisits their flirty exchange shared just moments before she took the stage and the gentle display of affection that followed after her performance had concluded.

Don’t overthink it, Paloma, just enjoy the moment.

So, she pushes all those thoughts aside as they patiently wait for their order.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He grumbles with his arms folded protectively across his chest.

She finds herself entranced by the sight of him. His torso is adorned in a brightly colored blue shirt that accentuates his handsome features paired with jeans that sinfully cling to him. She marvels at how effortlessly he pulls off this 70s-inspired ensemble. It’s just one more reason among the many of why she finds him so irresistibly attractive.

Their order number is called and they swiftly collect their things, moving over to an empty picnic table and sitting across from each other.

“Alright, be prepared to have your mind blown.” She plucks one of the golden-fried treats from the paper tray and slides the remainder enticingly across the table to him.

Javier eyes the dessert carefully before picking one up and observing it.

“There is no way this is good for you.” He remarks skeptically.

“It’s not supposed to be good for you it’s supposed to taste good.” Paloma counters, taking a bite and emitting a satisfied hum at the burst of flavor, “If that’s the case then you shouldn’t smoke. There’s no way cigarettes are good for you.” She mocks him, a playful glint in her eye as he scoffs in response.

Following her lead, he gingerly takes a bite, his brow furrowing at the unexpected taste.

“Absolutely not,” He declares, confirming his verdict with a decisive shake of his head.

“Oh, you are so lame.” They laugh and she drags the tray over to her side, “Whatever, more for me. Just please don’t tell me you’re a funnel cake hater too.” She plops another one into her mouth, her gaze fixated on him.

“Rest assured I’m not a funnel cake hater. It was my favorite growing up. Haven’t had one in ages.” Now that, Javier easily snacks on as they seamlessly weave through conversations, trading tales of cherished childhood snacks.

Once they finish, he gathers their garbage and goes to dispose of it in a bin nearby. Upon his return to the table, his eyes sweep the surroundings, only to discover that they are no longer in solitude; a small group has gravitated towards Paloma, eager to engage her in conversation.

This puts him on edge, slightly, eyeing the interaction.

Amidst their conversation, he catches fragments of praise floating in the air, surmising that they must be members of the audience who had seen her perform.

His suspicions are proven right once they leave and she turns to him with a bright smile.

“Looks like I’m not your only groupie anymore.”

“Oh don’t be jealous. You’ll always be my favorite.” As she rises from her seat to join him, he gently intercepts, his gaze fixating on a subtle trace of powdered sugar lingering at the corner of her lips.

“Hold on…” He murmurs, stepping closer to her, bringing his thumb up to his lips then wiping away at the spot.

A shiver jolts up her spine, her breath catching in her throat as his seemingly simple gesture sends waves of arousal rippling through her. He is driving her crazy.

“I— thank you.” She blushes, “Oh man, that means I had a whole conversation with food on my face.” Slightly embarrassed, she slaps her palm against her forehead and he chuckles at her.

“There are worst things to be embarrassed over.” He shrugs and she nods, “ So, what now miss I absolutely have to stay and enjoy the fair.” Javier teases, as they begin to walk around the fairgrounds.

Paloma rolls her eyes, “You’re like an insufferable child.” She can’t help but comment, eyeing some of the rides until she spots the drop tower. “Ooh, let’s do that one.” She practically races over to the large structure, leaving Javi behind.

“Who’s the child now?” He murmurs to himself, trailing after her.

Standing in line together, they exchange playful jabs at the people around them in whispered tones. For the first time in a very long time, Javier finds himself genuinely laughing.

“We have to get on the pendulum ride after this. Oh, and the gravitron. I also really like those spinny swings.” As she rambles on about her beloved rides, his gaze lingers on her radiant beauty. Moreso since she’s adorned with an enchanting smile and enveloped in laughter. With each joyful expression, Javier feels a familiar tug at his heartstrings, the same irresistible pull he’s been steadfastly pushing aside since their very first encounter.

This is definitely more than just some sexual infatuation. The revelation that he harbors genuine feelings for Paloma weighs heavily in his chest. In that moment of clarity, he understands the need to consider stepping back, for the well-being of them both.

He doesn’t want to hurt her.

But for tonight, he will let himself enjoy her company and everything that entails to. He grants himself this rare luxury under the guise that it’s for her sake.

“You’re ambitious tryin’ to get on all these rides, querida. Gonna end up puking all your precious fried oreos out.” They’re at the front of the line now, and as Javier makes his remark, one of the exiting patrons from the ride hurls over and throws up in a nearby bin.

They share a look before breaking out into a harmonious laugh. She finds herself yearning to capture this perfect moment, to preserve its essence in the confines of a frame, forever etched in her memory.

“Impeccable timing, vaquero.” They board the ride together, sitting right next to one another and she swings her legs softly as the attendant comes around to make sure they’re strapped in properly.

“I’ve done a lotta dangerous shit in my life but riding one of these seems to be at the top of the list.” He tells her as they begin their ascend to the top.

“Don’t tell me a little fair ride is more dangerous than an armed drug dealer.”

“Drug dealers are predictable. Fair rides aren’t— how can you actually trust somethin’ that’s disassembled, packed away then rebuilt elsewhere. How are you so sure they build it adequately each time? You’ve seen the people who run this. It’s sketchy.”

“Sounds like you’re scared. Don’t be scared, Javi. Here— you can hold my hand.” She extends her hand, reaching out to gently grasp his, intertwining their fingers and applying a tender squeeze. He’s not scared he’s just wary, but feeling the weight of her hand in his is enough to fizzle those inconvenient thoughts away as they’re suspended in the air for what feels like forever before they finally drop.

Paloma releases a delighted squeal, erupting into a chorus of giggles as they reach the base of the ride. “See? That wasn’t too bad. The ride didn’t collapse and we live to see another day.” With a final squeeze, she relinquishes his hand and they get off the ride swiftly.

Similar scenarios unfold as they explore the other attractions; their banter punctuated by playful jabs at the people in line and Javier meticulously dissects the safety measures (or lack thereof) of each attraction. Despite his scrutiny, he finds himself thoroughly enjoying the experience alongside her.

As they stroll through the carnival game section, Javier’s eyes light up as he catches sight of a tacky looking plush snake, swiftly diverting Paloma’s attention towards it.

“Isn’t that your favorite thing in the world?” He teases, feigning curiosity, earning an eye roll from Paloma as she playfully pinches his forearm.

“Not a fan of real snakes and reptiles, you goof,” She retorts with a grin. “But I’ve got nothing against a cute little stuffed animal like that.”

“Do you want it?” He asks, gravitating towards the stand and she follows.

“What, are you gonna win it for me?” She questions with a flirtatious lilt, twirling a lock of her hair as she raises her eyebrows, a playful sparkle dancing in her chocolate brown eyes.

“I will, if you want it.”

“If I want it that means you have to win it. And you know what they say about these games…”

Their banter continues as they approach the stand. Javier reads that it’s a baseball toss bottle game and he smiles cockily.

“What do they say?”

“They’re rigged and impossible to win.”

“Well lucky for you, nena, I’ve got the best arm in Laredo.”

Paloma’s interest is piqued, her head tilting slightly as she observes him. “You play baseball?” She asks, her tone curious and attentive.

Javier hands over payment to the teenager tending to the stand, effortlessly cradling three baseballs in one hand. This has Paloma licking her lips.

Her gaze is drawn to the rugged contours and sinewy strength, imagining the delicious weight of them against her skin. There’s an electric charge in the air, sending shivers of anticipation straight to her cunt.

“I did. All the way through college.” Oh she can see him now, clad in those tight baseball uniforms. She bets his ass looks amazing in the pants.

“The more you know.” She muses, “But that was like, all the way back when baseball was first invented.” She patronizes him, never getting tired of making jokes about his age.

“Ha, ha. So funny and original.”

“Alright darlin’ enough yappin’, let’s see Laredo’s best.” She’s fully expecting him to fumble, honestly.

Javier rolls his shoulders, stretching his arms, and Paloma’s eyes linger on the way his shirt molds to his defined muscles with each movement. His broad shoulders and flexing biceps command her attention as he effortlessly pulls his arm back and throws the ball with graceful ease.

In one fluid motion, he knocks down all the bottles.

A satisfied smirk graces his lips as he turns to meet Paloma’s gaze.

“Told you.”

She lets out a low whistle, clapping her hands together in a slow applause. “Alright, I stand corrected.” she admits with a smile.

The worker hands Javier the stuffed animal, and he extends it towards her.

“For you.”

“Such a gentleman.” She murmurs softly, pulling the prize close to her chest. The sight of her holding it with such tenderness is one that will linger in his memory for days to come.

“Oh shit.” She begins, a hint of dismay in her tone, but his concern melts away as she retrieves her camera from her bag. “Forgot to take more pictures. Do you mind gettin’ one with me?” There’s a hint of shyness in her request, and he shakes his head.

“Don’t mind at all, cariño.” He assures her with a warm smile.

She returns his smile and proceeds to ask the teenager at the stand to take their photo, who obliges, undoubtedly persuaded by her beauty.

“Alright we’ll do a smiley one then a silly one.” She suggests, stepping back to Javier’s side and leaning against him, her eyes twinkling as they prepare to capture the moment.

He doesn’t pose, instead, he gazes at her admiringly, wondering how he’ll summon the courage to distance himself from her after tonight.

She tilts her head to meet his gaze after the photos are taken, mirroring the affection in his eyes before stepping away to retrieve her camera.

Javier clears his throat, the sound breaking the carnival’s cheerful din as he glances down at his watch. The hands inch towards midnight, a reminder of the impending end to their evening. “ Los tenemos que ir (we have to go).” He says softly, his voice carrying a hint of reluctance.

She pouts slightly, pursing her bottom lip.“One more ride, please Javi. We didn’t get on the ferris wheel.”

As he’s done all night, Javier acquiesces, unable to resist her earnest plea. “You are a very persistent and spoiled little thing,” He remarks, fondness lacing his words. Her playful smile transforms into a devious smirk at his observation.

“Thank you.”

The bench-style seating on the ferris wheel feels snug, their bodies nestled close together as the metal bar rests across their laps.

Despite the attendant’s insistence that she couldn’t bring it on the ride, Paloma clung to the plush snake he’d won for her as she (politely) told him to fuck off.

At first, silence envelops them, the rhythmic creaking of the ride the only sound as they ascend to the pinnacle of it. Lost in their own thoughts, they share a quiet intimacy, their hearts beating in synchrony.

The fair lights twinkle and sway, casting a glow upon Paloma’s face. In that moment, bathed in the colorful illumination, her beauty is magnified. If that's even possible.

“What’s goin’ on inside that pretty head of yours?” Javier breaks the quiet between them, and she turns to meet his gaze.

“Tonight has been one of the best nights I’ve had in a while... and you’re part of the reason.” She confesses, her voice sincere, melting the barriers he’s long held onto.

“It has nothing to do with me and everything to do with you, palomita.” He responds, his arm draped along the back of their seat. Unable to resist, she leans in closer, finding comfort in the warmth of his embrace.

His smell envelops her, intoxicating her senses as she inhales the earthy musk of his cologne mingled with a hint of sweetness from their shared meal earlier.

“I mean it, Javi. Ever since you came to Seminary my life has been a lot more… fun.” She tells him earnestly, her voice barely above a whisper. Their proximity is electric, teetering on the edge of temptation, and her words only add fuel to the fire.

Her name escapes his lips like a solemn prayer, a gentle reminder of the boundaries they’re dancing dangerously close to. Their lips barely graze each other, his mustache tickling the sensitive skin above her lip.

Suddenly, the ride lurches with an unexpected jolt, shattering the tender moment between them. She swiftly withdraws, seeking whatever space their cramped confines afford her, her fingers clenching the metal bar for stability.

“Told you I didn’t trust these damn things.” He mutters, his palm clammy as he rubs it against the coarse denim of his jeans. His throat tightens with a heavy swallow.

Silence cloaks them like a heavy blanket for the remainder of the ride and even as they walk side by side to his truck.

No words pass between them.

Paloma leans against the window, mirroring her posture from the ride up, exhaustion seeping into her bones after the long day. She resists the urge to dwell on the events of the evening with Javier, instead surrendering to the pull of sleep. Her eyelids flutter closed, and soon, she drifts unconscious.

He steals a sideways glance at her, strands of hair cascading over her features like a veil. Amidst the quiet hum of the car, he catches the faint sound of her soft snores.

His shoulders slump in resignation as he replays their moment on the ferris wheel in his mind, each iteration leaving him more conflicted than before. Would they have shared a kiss if not for the technical issue?

He wants to believe they wouldn’t have; that he would have had the strength to pull away before it was too late. But the enticement of her lips, the desire to taste her, lingers in his thoughts like an unshakeable temptation.

Gripping the steering wheel tightly, he wrestles with his inner turmoil for the duration of the journey back to Seminary.

“I’m still so upset I couldn’t go. It woulda been so fun.” Sloane remarks from her spot on Paloma’s bed, idly flipping through a magazine while her friend meticulously applies nail polish.

Days have passed since the state fair, leaving Paloma and Javier in an awkward limbo. She despises the distance that has grown between them. How could she have been so foolish as to ruin their night by coming off as strong as she had? Everything had been going perfectly until then. Had she scared him off? Was his silence a sign of disinterest?

It’s all so fucking confusing.

“Uh, hello. Earth to Paloma.” Slo snaps her fingers and this gets her attention, looking up from her hand to meet her friend’s gaze.

“Sorry, I wish you coulda been there too.” She gives her a tight lipped smile and this has Sloane narrowing her eyes at her.

“Alright, spill. What happened?”

She snorts, shaking her head and returning to the task at hand. “Nothin’ happened.”

“Lie to somebody who doesn’t know you.” She shifts from her spot on the mattress, sprawling herself on the floor in front of Paloma.

She eyes her friend briefly before letting out a sigh and twisting the cap on the polish. “Fine. I think I fucked things up between me and Javier.”

That was certainly not what Sloane was expecting her to admit, but she’s intrigued nevertheless and she turns to lay on her side, head in her hand and elbow propping her up.

“Don’t tell me you slept with him.”

Paloma’s face flushes, despite having a plethora of erotic dreams starring the man in question, “Wha— No. I didn’t. Jesus…” She mutters, attempting to blow the polish on her right hand dry. “We actually had a great night.” She can’t help the small smile that plays on her lips at the remembrance of said night.

“Okay…” Sloane urges her to continue, “For a songwriter you sure are a shit storyteller.”

Paloma flips her off and Slo blows her a kiss, “Things between us have always been flirty. It was fun at first, exhilaratin’ and what not. Then… feelings started developin’. I like him, Slo. Like him like him.” It’s the first time she’s said this outloud and the confession has her feeling lightheaded.

“Awe, my baby is growin’ up. She’s got a crush.” Her friend teases, poking at her exposed calf.

“Yeah, well, I don’t even know if he feels the same way. I mean, at first I thought he did then I… we almost kissed on the ferris wheel and he hasn’t talked to me since.”

Sloane flashes her a sympathetic stare, “Well he’s an idiot for not kissin’ you. Let’s start there.” She sits upright, matching Paloma’s stance, “Are you really surprised? Not to burst your little schoolgirl crush bubble but it’s obvious what typa man he is. Flirty, handsome, charismatic. Sex on legs— a long trail of broken hearts follow that man. C’mon, baby, you must know this.”

Paloma is keenly aware of his reputation as a charming playboy, a fact that’s far from concealed. Now, she’s flooded with feelings of foolishness and embarrassment for how she had openly pursued him. It was almost inevitable; of course, he would reciprocate her advances. After all, what man could resist when a beautiful woman is vying for his attention?

The thought that he might have lost interest gnaws at her, causing an ache in her chest. Aside from all the romantic stuff, she genuinely enjoyed his company.

She chooses not to dwell further on the topic, and her friend seems to pick up on her reluctance.

In a sudden twist of conversation, Sloane announces, “Guess who has a house now.” Paloma’s attention perks up in surprise.

“What, really? Since when?” From what she knows, Sloane and a few others have been living long term at the only motel in town. They hadn’t intended on staying in Seminary very long which is why Paloma had gotten her the job at the bar in the first place, so she could save up some money to keep trekking.

Hearing that she now has an actual place to call home brings nothing but joy and excitement for her friend.

“Since a few days ago. We’ve been so damn busy that I haven’t been able to tell you. Completely unexpected, too. Apparently some broad August used to know finally croaked and she left him with her entire estate.”

Paloma’s eyes widen at the news, “Jeez, talk about impeccable timing. I’m glad y’all got it worked out. Now you’re stuck here with me.” She jests, “When can I visit?”

Sloane taps the tip of her chin, “What about tomorrow? It’s about an hour drive from here—”

“An hour?!” Paloma interjects, incredulous.

“— and it’s beautiful . You’d love it. Don’t get hung up on somethin’ as trivial as travel time .”

Sloane’s right, outside from the hub in town; their residence is situated in a predominantly rural expanse, making lengthy travel times like that unusual. And with her car now up and running, Paloma has a newfound sense of freedom to explore beyond their immediate surroundings.

“Fine, tomorrow sounds good. You can stay the night and I’ll drive you there in the morning.” She offers, prompting Sloane to break out into a giant grin.

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