Cholo

(21) Veintiuno

So there I was, at the break of dawn, standing with a luggage bag and a pregnant belly in front of Oscar's house. I chewed on my bottom lip, Jada's car was no longer softly purring behind me, or her constant pleas to get back into the car. I wasn't sure what to say to him. Should I barge in screaming and throw my purse in his face? Or walk in quietly, so quite as to cause him to dread the moment he texted me to come back. Should I be cold, distant, or a deranged hyna?

I looked down at my belly bump, and suddenly a rush of rage washed over me. He kicked out his brother, he could do that to me and the baby. The image of Cesar's face pale and lifeless form laying on the streets caused my body to jolt at the door. I curled my fists and banged at the door, then rattled the door knob, and even kicked the door. A frantic mad woman is what any by passer would say, and to his cholo's, they're lips would curve into a smirk, nudging at the hyna. I did not stop slamming my fists, or kicking even though I knew how ridiculous I looked. I wanted him to open the door, and for my fist to make contact with his jaw.

After a few more seconds of slamming and kicking, the door was pulled open. His hand latched onto my arm as he tugged me into the house. My heart was rattling just I as had rattled his doorknob. "¿Qué crees que estás haciendo? [What do you think you're doing?]" He hissed. His hold on my arm tightening. I tried to pry him away but to no avail, so I huffed and hissed back.

"What am I doing?" I stabbed a finger into his chest. "What are you doing?" Stressing the 'I' and 'you' to give it a flare of emphasis. Oscar slammed the door shut. Through the sunlight that filtered in, I could faintly make out his jawline and how his lips curved into a smirk. His bare chest in a way was highlighted by the sun rays, glistening gold as if he was carved out by the gods. I had to resist the urge to caress his chest, and lean into a feverish kiss. My heart rattled as his arms, gently pressed onto my sides. His thick lashes casting a dark shadow under his eyes. His gaze rested onto the baby bump. I wrapped my arms across my stomach, hiding the bump from sight and his touch. I nudged past him, peering about the living room with my back to him. "Where's Cesar, hmm?" I turned, glaring with a hand placed on my hip. I could only picture myself, the splitting image of my mother about to punish whatever deviant act I have committed. 

I heard him sigh and the shuffle of his feet as he made his way towards the sofa. He flopped down, emitting another heavy sigh. Oscar turned on the TV; an action that had my anger brewing to a boil. I stomped towards the TV, and flicked the switch off.  This time, I turned to face him - any loving thoughts towards him vanished as of this moment. "How am I suppose to have this baby if you can't answer me about Cesar?" My hands were shaking at my sides. "How can you not know where he is?" My voice dropped to a low whisper. "Is he even alive?"

In one swift movement, Oscar stood towering above me. His lips curved into a snarl as he leered at me. The veins on his neck throbbed and his chest rose in a heaving manner. I knew than and there that I have crossed a line, but I couldn't stop myself. I wanted him to feel the pain that Cesar felt - that I felt. The teardrop tattoo under his eyes twitched, his fingers curled into fists than uncurled. The dryness of my throat ached as I swallowed. Fumbling for words to tame the raging man before me but all that came out of my mouth was venomous. Spitting a string of cusses, words that overlapped each other in Spanish and english. I wasn't sure what I was getting at but the more I spoke the courageous I felt. 

He seethed in silent. Eyes narrowing into slits and fists flexing at his side, ready to strike if the verbal threats turned into physical. "You either step up and fix this," my palms were sweaty as I motioned them about, trying to grasp at words, "issue of Cesar's, or lose me and the baby." I knew for a fact that forcing him into aiding brother was as futile as cat's soaking in water. Oscar was always there for Cesar and my words were merely a shove. His eyes were no longer shaped into slits but round and alert; I could now see his brotherly admiration lurking within his hazel eyes. Had I switched on the Oscar button and Spooky was momentarily switched off? Or, was I being played. 

Oscar flopped onto the sofa. I massaged my wrists and tentatively sat beside him. He threw his upper body forward, head resting between his palms, as if reality pained him. His slender fingers were that of a pianist, mesmerizingly beautiful. Something so peculiar yet so fitting. I watched him carefully as he rocked his body back and froth. I sighed lightly. Gently, and quite dubious, I rested my palm onto his shoulder. "I'm sorry..." It was barely audible but I heard him as clear as crystal. I mumbled soothing words as my hand patted and brushed his back. Slowly, I found myself scooting closer to him until an arm was slang around his back and my side pressed to his side. He straighten his back at the close approximate of our bodies. With his eyes hooded, he peered at me. Oscar's face was flushed, but there were no traces of tears - after all a Santos never sheds a tear. They're as cold as ice, but with an edge of kindness unlike the Prophet$.  

His strong arms gathered my body so effortless as he transferred me onto his lap. I linked my arms around his neck, peppering kisses onto his neck. I heard him take a sharp intake of breath, then a hand roughly pushed me into him. My chest was no pressed to his, our bodies merging into one. Our lips crashed into a thrilling kiss, had it not been for my job, it would've developed into a more intimate merging of bodies. 

-    C    H    O    L    O    - 

I sat organizing the freshly washed laundry, wondering how I got to become somewhat of a housewife. Of course, I did not cook for every time I attempted to create something it would either end up being burnt or - er- unsuitable to eat. I cracked my knuckles, then gently message the back of my neck. I momentarily recalled how I was greeted at work. So many of the staff gushed over my pregnancy, Doctors even insisted on aiding the birth - or in other words doing it themselves for free. I smiled remembering their beaming faces and the numerous advice. Maybe I did pick the good choice... And maybe it will all work out in the end. Just as my mind was about delve into the agonizing worry about the absent Cesar, I heard his voice - rough with emotions and loud enough to be heard indoors. 

"WHERE? I HAVE NO WHERE TO GO!" I breathed heavily as I trotted towards the backdoor. 

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A/N: PART 2 COMING SOON.. I'D LIKE TO DRAG IT AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE ! 

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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.