Ultraviolence

Chilled

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Dios mio. This girl is going to be the death of him.
Lalo gently strokes your hair, letting his fingers run through it. You smell like him. Did you use his shampoo? He chuckles. Silly girl. No panties on. So innocent, yet so seductive in your own way. Makes him feel things he's never felt before. He can't explain it. Sure, he's had lots of women. Yet no one so alluring as this little thing sleeping on his chest. And you don't even realise, hm? It's not an act, no, you're genuinely like this.

The sight of you jumping around his living room in his shirt had made his chest tighter than ever. His plan was to just drive you back to your apartment. Maybe make up some bullshit story about what was going on. But that wasn't even necessary, with you being so damn needy. He'd never seen you like this before. Sure, you've been needy at times. With your little touches and pouty lips. But never like this, so forward. It wasn't even neediness anymore, just lust. What alcohol does to a person, hm? Yeah, don't think he didn't notice. Or taste, actually. He could literally taste the liquor on your lips. Real Mexican Añeja tequila. The good stuff.

He sits like this for a while, gently stroking your hair and cheeks. Your, or his, shirt slightly lifted, exposing your legs. He could get used to the sight of this. Every once in a while he hears you mumble something in your sleep. Then you scrunch your face and go back to calmly snoozing. He wonders what you're dreaming about. His eyes scan your body. Now he finally has the chance to take a good look at you without you getting al worked up and fidgety about it. Long eyelashes, small freckles on your nose. Pink lips. Small waist, and he can feel your ribs when he strokes your back. You need to eat more. His eyes land on your hip. The hell? He lifts up the fabric. Scars. Quite a few of them. They look old. He strokes his thumb on the straight lines, feeling the ridges as he presses down a bit. You did this to yourself? Poor girl. Stupid girl. Too scared to bite back, so you just hurt yourself instead of others, hm? So peaceful and selfless to the world, but so violent to yourself.  He could never understand how someone could hurt themselves for things others do to them. He assumes this is because of whatever went down with your family. He wonders if you were planning on telling him about this. Maybe he'll just ask you. It'd be good for you to talk about it. And he has to know if that bastard stepdad of yours is still out there. He strokes his mustache.

He's arranged a get together with Fring and Bolsa tomorrow. To finally talk about the stepped on product and to get Fring to talk about that damn construction project of his. Don't think he has forgotten, no. Not for a second. Damn German with his damn concrete. Damn Michael. Damn Pollero. Speaking of El Pollero, aren't you supposed to go to work tomorrow? Eh, who cares about that stupid job. He'll take care of it if he has to.

Let's get you to bed, hm?

He lifts you up without a problem, one arm under your knees, one arm holding you by the waist. Like a little bride. He carries you to his bed, laying you down gently. He can't remember sleeping in this bed, usually he just sets his timer while sitting on the couch or in his car. Sleeping is like an annoying chore to him. He'd rather just not do it. He actually tried that, but ended op more paranoid and aggressive than Tuco after like 3 days. So now he just sacrifices an hour or 2 to get at least some shuteye. Enough to make him not go crazy.

You're still sound asleep. Mumbling softly. He guesses he could.. He goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth. You look even smaller than usual in his large bed. He sits down next to you. Damn, this thing is pretty comfortable. Soft sheets. You seem to notice his presence, because you move towards him and snuggle your face against his chest, one little hand gripping his shirt. Even needy in your sleep, hm? He just lets you. You're a pretty restless sleeper. Gripping onto his shirt, you can't seem to stay in the same position for more than 10/15 minutes. You move around while softly talking in your sleep.
"Please.. Don't." You mumble, before continuing to sleep like before. Silly girl. Still stressed even when you're asleep. He gently strokes your back. It makes Lalo angry, seeing you so nervous and scared all the time. Makes him want to hurt everyone who ever dared to make you feel this way. The soft touch of his fingers trailing down your spine seems to calm you down a bit.