eternal ✭ elite

00. the summer where everyone held their breath

THE QUIET HUM OF Pilar's vibrating phone drew her out of a deep sleep. She was sprawled out on her bed, her silk sheets wrapped loosely around her body. The sunlight seeping through her organza curtains painted dancing shapes across her wall and bathed her hair in a golden light. Her eyes slowly fluttered open as she reached to answer her phone.

"What the fuck, Guzmán?"

"Good morning to you, too, my dear Pilar. Long night?"

Sometimes, even when she's not looking at him, she knows what exactly Guzmán's face is doing. So as his low voice rumbled through the phone's speaker, Pilar envisioned his signature smug smirk etched across his face. If he hadn't called so early, the thought would have brought a smile to her face.  

"A themed gala to promote my father's latest business venture," she sighed against her pillow, her voice slightly muffled by the silky fabric. "Can you please send me champagne and patatas bravas through our force bond? Or do you think we're out of range?"

"I don't think force bonds have a specified range, and even if they didn't, champagne and patatas bravas? That is a shameful combination."

Pilar's eyes slipped closed again as she scrunched up her nose and hummed in protest of her best friend's comments, "Fuck off, Freckles. I like what I like."

She subconsciously burrowed further into her soft sheets at the sound of Guzmán's playful huff.

"Excuse me for trying to educate you on the finer things in life."

"Well, then, I have completely and horrifically misjudged our entire friendship, because all this time, I thought I was the one schooling you," she paused, flicking her eyes open once again,  halfheartedly rolling over, and propping her head up on her hand. "How are you even calling me anyway? Did you stack a bunch of cows on top of each other to create a high spot?"

At the other end of the line, Guzmán softly chuckled. Despite the fact that her voice was mocking and still held a lingering raspiness, it was soft and angelic like she was sent from above.

Although it had be what felt like a lifetime since they were kids in the sandbox, the two burst into a fit of giggles as if they were children again. But, Guzmán's laugh had changed. So had Pilar's, she supposed.

Everything was different, in the wake of Marina's death. It was though they were all shrouded in a grim fog of death that no one could shake, especially Guzmán. The summer where everyone held their breath forced the children of Las Encinas to grow up in a way they never expected. Pain makes people change, and that was a lesson forever burned in their memories. The first casualty was Marina, the second their innocence, and Pilar prayed there would never be a third.

But in her heart she knew there would be.