Spices (FIRST DRAFT) ~ An Alejandro and Alfred Story

𝓣𝔀𝓮𝓷𝓽𝔂-𝓸𝓷𝓮

I tried not to think about the letters and warnings about going home. I shouldn’t let it consume me so much. It’ll happen when it happens, and I’ll figure it out when the time comes. To be frank, I ended up forgetting about it on my own once I was able to reply to the letters in one mass letter. I hastily burned them and sealed the thought away over a glass of whiskey.

Adjusting back to a normal, peaceful life with Alejandro made work bearable. Bit by bit I could feel pressure alleviating. On top of that, I started being more involved within the house, playing with Selena, helping around, and simply feeling like I had a family of my own.

I feel like all this emotion is coming from the fact that it's officially been a year since I came to New Orleans with dreams to succeed and leave at the same time. It was a weird timeline considering all that has happened between me and Alejandro. I could’ve easily guessed it has been three or four years, but the realisation that these events and progressions in our relationship have been crammed within a year, only a year, a tightness returns to my chest. It doesn’t fully go away. Not as well as I had originally thought.

This feeling dawned on me while I was trying to find a specific TV channel, eventually forgetting what I was looking for altogether and thoughts jumbled together into a fog. My fingers robotically kept turning the knob back and forth as my vision blurred against the flashing colors of the screen. It was Selena who pulled me out of my eye-burning trance.

She tugged on my sleeve, asking, “Can I do your hair? I want to play salon.”

I considered my hair to be pretty long, keeping in mind its usual length, but it wasn’t enough for Selena to do much with. At the same time, Alejandro had finished cooking and went to check on us. Bingo.

Against his protests, he soon sat, defeated, on the floor as Selena peered over his head, standing on her knees on the couch. She starts smoothing the most curly parts of Alejandro’s hair with her small hands, giggling to herself as she messes with it, following her own vision. Some peaceful silence goes by, and Alejandro and I chatter lightly. Selena crosses a chunk of hair to the other side of his head, making it stand up in an awkward direction. I hand her another bow– a neon green one– and she secures the piece of Alejandro’s hair quite roughly. I hear him wince.

“Careful Selena!” I remark, and Alejandro plays it off with a small chuckle and asks her, “Are you sure you’re a professional, missy?”

She’s fidgeting with a few pieces of hair, twisting them together and pouting. “Of course I am!”

“And how long have you been doing this for?” I ask with a smile.

Selena thinks about it. “Seven– no, uhm… like a really long time.”

I nod with an impressed look and nudge Alejandro, who shrugs and nods, too. “That’s pretty good. You seem to know what you’re doing,” he says.

She continues to mess with his hair, focusing intensely on simply brushing one small part of it at the bottom and forgetting the rest of the head. I try to encourage her to try to work with other parts of the hair, but she pushes me away and goes back to brushing the tips.

Not long after, the doorbell rings. I look at Alejandro, who points to the array of bows, wild, slightly frizzy parts, and awkwardly styled hair. I push myself off of the ground and pat Selena’s head briefly before going to the door myself. “Why don’t you decide on a price, Selena, huh? He should pay for what that masterpiece of a hairstyle is worth!” I called to her from the hallway.

I place a hand on the doorknob and rub my face before opening the door, trying to appear more put together. With work heavy on my shoulders, I reluctantly took this day off to spend it with Alejandro and Selena, doing absolutely nothing. I had completely slept through breakfast, too.