Cholo

(17) Diecisiete

Cesar was fast asleep when the doorbell rang. Mia furrowed her eyebrows glancing down at her watch. It was three in the morning. Who could it be? She hesitated about opening the door, or even peering from the peephole. In this neighborhood one should never fall under the pretense of safety; for there this no such thing. Anywhere, anyplace in Freeridge you have to be on alert. Don't wear black or green, keep your head bowed, anything to stay alive. As a child the neighbor was home, but as an adult it's uncanny. Her hands curled around a baseball bat, she hoisted it upwards in the air ready to fling it if needed.

Carefully she tiptoed towards the door. In one movement, she had unlocked and flung the door open with the bat hovering over her head. Oscar's arm shot up, gripping the bat to prevent her for banging his head. Maria breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, gracias a Dios, eres tú [Oh thank god, its you]."

"I'll take that," he pulled the bat away from her, "thank you." Mia rolled her eyes at him as he passed by, laying the bat carefully against the wall. "But you do know theres a peephole on your door, right?"

She bit the insides of her cheeks to prevent a nasty retort. Her feet tapping, and a hand resting on her hip. "I know." Deciding to keep her replies as brief as possible as an attempt to annoy him. And although her heart was racing with excitement at having him here, her mind was not so happy with his presence. The latter is more qualified and relevant than her heart. "What do you want, Spooky?" She turned around, leading him towards the living room.

Oscar grimaced at the nickname. He knew for a fact that if she ever referred to him by his cholo name then he was in trouble. And there is nothing worse than the wrath of an angry latina. He shrugged his shoulders, preparing himself for the outburst that is to come. Maybe a little flirting would loosen her up? 

He followed her into the living room; his mind quickly drawing a plan to calm her down. He gave her body a scrutinized gaze. She was still dressed in her nurse uniform, her hair disheveled with bags under her eyes; he could tell that she was beyond the word exhausted. The past few months of her life had worn her down. Oscar wetted his lips as he leaned back into the sofa, and lifted his feet onto the coffee table.

"Put your feet down, pendejo [asshole]." Mia slapped his legs.

He laughed lightly as he placed his feet onto the floor. His hand grasped hers as she passed by. "¿Estás bien? [you okay?]" The Santos tugged at her hand, pulling her onto his lap. Her shoulders slumped. She chewed onto her lips. His arms snaked around her waits drawing her closer to his body. She fumbled in attempt to free herself from his embrace. His chest rambled as he laughed - Maria's heart leaped at the sound of his laughter. But she had to get away. She had to put some distance between them to be able to speak clearly.

"Let me go," she tried to remove his hands off her, "please." To her dismay it sounded more like a plea than an order. It was spoken with such urgency that his hands slid off of her waist. She bolted to her feet. She felt weak and she hated it. It happened overtime he held her, touched her or kissed her. She was weak with him- because of him. A twirl of emotions went through her; the speed of it quickening until she blurted: "No, I'm not OK."

"I'm never OK when it comes to you." Her words caused his heart to twist. He opened his mouth to speak but no words left; he closed his mouth and opened it again. But nothing. He only ended up looking like a fish out of water. Feeling ridiculous, he decided to remain silent until he could utter words again.

"You're too evasive when it comes to us." She pointed her index finger at him. "You don't care about anyone but yourself." His jaw clenched as he jolted out of his seat. He stalked towards her, eyes never leaving hers. She felt captivated by his gaze, unable to avert her eyes, or to  muscle. She stood there awaiting his lash out. Mia sucked in a sharp intake of breath.

His voice was deep and low when he said: "I care about you."

"What about Cesar?" She retorted angrily. Oh, god make me stop.

Oscars face morphed into a poker face; his eyebrows were furrowed but his face gave off nothing. He continued to stalk towards her, stopping only when their bodies were an inch apart. The twenty-three year old felt defeated. He did not have to speak for her to know the answer. She already knows that he cares about Cesar and herself. But she felt the need to hurt him; have him taste what it's like to be hurt. She wanted to be victorious.

His expressionless face dipped closer to her ears. She felt his hot breath tickle her skin. "I fucking care about him too." The hair on her back stood up. "I care about him so much that I keep a close eye on him at all times."

Her eyebrows furrowed, she peered up at him through her thick lashes. "And where is he now?"

"Here." He smirked, hands wrapping around her waist and shoving her into him. He rested his forehead against hers. Eyes interlocking lustfully before he smacked his lips onto hers. The kiss was urgent, sloppy and wet. His grip on her waist tightening.

She pulled away, rolling her eyes. Her finger poking harshly into his chest. "You still owe me an explanation."

Oscar shook his head with a chuckle. "I had to arrange some shit for the gang," his long finger tapped her nose, "had to put some distant to keep you safe."

"Safe from who?" She swatted away his tapping finger.

"Prophet$." His hands dropped to his side. "We both know that the truce ain't shit." She placed her hands in a reassuring manner onto his shoulder, drawing him closer to her body. Mia rocked her hips lightly as he spoke. "You won't be safe for long."

His facial expression was itched with worry. Her hands clasped behind his neck, and with a gently nudge, she pushed his lips against hers. She kissed him and the world fell away. It wasn't their regular kiss one of lust and urgency, but a tender, slow, comforting and passionate. It seeped comfort that words can never be. He moved his hands to place them below her ears, and his thumbs caressed her cheeks. It was't as sloppy and urgent as the kiss prior to this. He felt himself stiffen under her touch; her fingers trailed down his spine. His thumbs dung into her cheeks as his hold on her face tightened. Her hand rested on his back, pulled him closer until there was no space left between them, and she could feel his heart beat against her chest. Maria pulled away to breathe. A smile playing at her lips at the sound of Oscar's saddened moan.

Her hand brushed his cheek lightly. "I know how to use a gun. So, don't worry about me." She winked with a cocky smile.

"I never wanted you more." Oscar groaned.

Maria giggled as she ran up the stairs with Oscar hot on her heels.

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*Spanish is not one of the languages I speak, I know some phrases and such; but I was mainly using the internet and google translate- please notify me of any errors.*
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This is purely a fan fiction.

I do not own "On My Block" or any of it's characters all rights are reserved/belong to Netflix. The plot and story of the series belong to Jeremy Haft, Eddie Gonzalez, and Lauren Lungerich. Directed by Lauren Lungerich. As such all claims are reserved to Netflix, and those listed prior to this sentence.

I only own characters that do not appear on/part of the series.