Mi Amor - Oscar 'Spooky' Diaz/On my block Story

4

Oscar: "Why the long face, sweetheart?"

I let out a small squeak that could only be described as a mouse in a horror movie. Whipping around, I dropped the water glass like it was a hot potato.

Oscar was just inches away from me. He was practically breathing down my neck—smelling like a heady mix of beer, marijuana, and just the right amount of aftershave. His warm breath sent shivers down my spine.

I stuttered, desperate to explain myself, but my brain decided to take a vacation. I glanced from him to the shattered glass on the floor, weighing my options.

Honestly, the guy had more mood swings than a reality show contestant. First, he yells at me in front of his buddies, and now he's Mr. Nice Guy? Maybe he should look into therapy before he starts a yelling match with anyone else.

Oscar: "What's wrong? Do I make you nervous?"

Well, maybe just a little—but no way I'd let him know that.

Elly: "Nervous? Nah, I'm just terrified of stepping in the glass. You know, self-preservation and all that."

I bent down to pick up the bigger shards, but Oscar caught my arm.

Oscar: "Whoa, hold on. I'll handle it. You'll hurt yourself."

I gently shook off his hand, determined to finish the job.

Elly: "It's cool. I can do this. Totally my fault anyway."

Then it happened—a sharp pain shot through my finger, and suddenly, I was painting the floor red.

"Fuck," I whispered, more annoyed than hurt.

I half-expected Oscar to say something like, "I told you so," but he surprised me. Concern flashed in his eyes as he handed me a towel to stop the bleeding.

He wasn't satisfied with how I wrapped it up, so he led me to a chair at the kitchen table and took over.

His hands brushed against mine—rough but warm, like a gentle touch on a chilly night.

As he worked on my finger, I stole a closer look at him. Wow, he was seriously handsome. My gaze landed on his teardrop tattoo, and I couldn't help but wonder what story it told. Then there were those eyes—dark and piercing, like they could see right through to my soul. And those lips? Full and perfectly formed, looking soft enough to... well, you know.

Suddenly, I snapped back to reality, realizing he was looking at me. Had I been staring? Did he know what I was thinking? My cheeks burned as I quickly looked away.

He smiled, and I stood up like I'd just been electrocuted.

Elly: "I should, uh, get to bed. It's late. Good night!"

As I walked away, I turned back, feeling bold.

Elly: "And thanks for the help!"

I nodded at my hand, hoping he wouldn't notice my heart racing.

Oscar: "No worries. Good night. And sorry about earlier."

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The next morning, even after a solid night's sleep, I was still reeling from last night's chaos. I decided to just ignore whatever was brewing between me and Oscar.

While I was getting dressed, Amelie eyed me like I was the main event in a soap opera.

Elly: "If you want a front-row seat, you'd better cough up some cash. Nobody gets to see this," I gestured up and down, "for free."