Spanish Bombs

I'll Show You

He finds me in the living room.
"Where are you parents?"
I look up, my brother's clothes fit him well, though they're a bit out of fashion now. My brother moved out years ago but we still had some of his belongings.

"They're out, they'll be back later."
He nods sitting on the sofa that faces mine. In truth my parents wouldn't be back until tomorrow but I don't want him to know that. What if he's deranged?

He's looking boringly at the paintings that hang from our walls.
"Excuse me, I forgot my manners" I say standing up, "have you an appetite?"
He faces me confused.
"Are you hungry?"
"Oh, yes."

He follows me into the kitchen, I served us the food mom prepared before leaving with cold lemonade as drinks.
I set them on the table where he was seated. I wanted to sit the furthest from him as possible since he makes me anxious but that would seem strange.
And the seat across? It feels too personal. I end up taking the one next to him but regretting it immediately.

"Thanks Candy, it looks great."
"Sir..."
He glances towards me,
"...I mean, Joe-seph. My names not Candy, it's Cándida."
"I know, but Candy suits you better."
"In what way?"
"You're too pretty to be named Cándida."
I take an uneasy sip from my drink, then respond "not true."
"Oh, it is. Absolutely."
I tighten my grip on the cold glass, he says it so naturally while still eating, probably because he doesn't see me the way I see him. Yeah, that must be it.

After he helps me wash the couple dishes though I insist him not to. He drinks tons of water then we head back into the sitting room.

"How do you feel? You were unconscious for about a week."
"My head is as heavy as a stone, but I'm alright. It's better than being dead."
"Yeah, you should probably rest."
"I'd rather not."
"Is there anything else I can do for you?" I offer.
He smiles sweetly, "you've done enough already, thank you."
I smile back, "you're welcome."
"Did you take care of me the entire time?" He asks.
"Not the entire time, we have a maidservant. But I did make sure your room was the right temperature. It can get really stuffy in there. I also fed you."
I notice his cheekbones redden a little so I add "it was no problem really, it kept me entertained."
He chuckles, "entertained? You wanna be a nurse or something?"
"No, but It gets boring around here. I'm homeschooled, I don't have many friends."
"Oh, In that case, you're welcome" he jokes, then he asks "do you smoke by any chance?"
"No."
"Do your parents?"
"No, but someone gave them a box of cigarettes as a present not long ago. Want me to look for it?"
"That'd be lovely."
He's standing by the cupboard where my dad keeps the wine and alcohol for special occasions so I kneel right by his legs, I think for a second he's the perfect height for...you know what...no, that's such a foul thought.

I pull out the small silver box, handing it to him I stand straight. Face to face he's not but an inch taller than me.

We go to the back garden, he's admired by the flowers but more so by the quality of the tobacco that was dusting away, he places one gallantly upon his lips.
After the first drag he asks if I'd like to try it, handing me the cig.
I hold it gently with my thumb and index, "I don't know how."
He takes a step closer to me, I can feel the warmth of his body but we aren't touching yet.
"I'll show you" he takes the cigarette and places it upon his lower lip, "inhale like you would with like, a straw."
He does it, his eyes close a little, then he takes the cig from his lips and a cloud slowly follows in the opposite direction from us.
"Now try it, close your eyes if you want, sometimes the smoke irritates them."
I nod naively putting the cylinder with his lip print onto mine. I inhale it too quickly, it hits my throat like tequila, then my nose. I let the smoke flow out almost immediately, he's right, my eyes burn.
"You didn't like it?"
I cough, "it's not bad" I cough again, "but it tastes kind of like, smoked onions?"
He laughs.
"What?" I demand.
"You're funny."