timmy imagines

havana holiday-(part two)

I felt terrible. But I couldn't do anything else. I wanted to but I didn't know how. I'm 17 years of age now and I still have to attend school here, even though we aren't sure as to whether this is a holiday or a permanent move.

School was open for multiple hours after the time we were supposed to leave. And though I detested learning whilst in a different country, I had stayed a bit longer to finish off my homework that needed to be in the next morning.

The uniforms were pink and I don't think I hated any other colour more. We had to use satchels as our book backs and we looked like we were living back in 50s.

James:" you coming?"

Y/n:" uhh...no actually. I just have to finish this. So I'll be back at the hotel later."

James:"I'll see you later then."

Y/n:" bye."

The clock ticked by and I'd only just realised my bus was about to leave. So I grabbed my satchel and race down the corridors. But the bus had already gone, leaving me to walk home by myself.

Walking down the streets of havana was rathe unpleasant. Men constantly looking you up and down and trying to take to you like you took any notice of them.

The people were gathered around an area in the town square and I couldn't help but let my curiosity run freely.

As I got closer, the view became clearer. Dancers expressing themselves in ways I'd never seen before. A kind of dancing I'd never witnessed.

My eye catches a man who looked familiar. But before I was able to place him, him and his friend were letting themselves go wild with the passion of the music. It was him. The waiter.

(Just pretend that Diego luna is timmy)