The Lost Angel [BxB]

salvador

Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win.

'The Shining'
[Stephen King]

♡ ♡ ♡

4: SALVADOR

On fragile white plates rimmed with little blue flowers, they had eggs for breakfast, paired with black coffee and the slow murmuring of a lazy conversation. Rory said he had slept well but from the look of the dark bags that circled his bright eyes, Lalo assumed he must have been lying. However, after too much coffee, he looked far more alert.

"I have to ask." Rory sighed as they left Lalo's comfortable abode, beginning their loop around the grounds. The sky had darkened soon after Rory arrived the day before, so this was his first real exploration of the garden. He hadn't even seen much of the house — he'd searched for a bedroom with curtains still intact, and slept in the first one he'd found. He was planning to make the bedroom a little more homely today, perhaps give it a sweep and a dusting and unpack the rest of his things. "The graveyards." He continued. "What's that all about?"

They continued walking, Carmelita trotting behind them, looping between their legs and purring for attention. Lalo had his hands buried in his pockets, his eyes squinting at the morning sunshine. "You saw the burial site then?"

"The graves are right outside the bedroom window."

"That's the Hernandez family." Lalo explained. "The original owners. They died in 1893." He changed the direction of their route and headed straight for the four slabs of rock that stood in the shade behind the manor.

"They all died together? What happened to them?" Rory asked as they approached the little plot of land where four bodies lay cold and still beneath the soil.

"They were killed. Stabbed." He stopped when they reached the graves, standing with his arms crossed over his chest. The flowers he had planted were beginning to peek through the surface of the earth.

"Fuck." Rory murmured, his eyes tracing the headstone that belonged to Salvador Hernandez. "A baby? Who would kill a baby?"

"I don't know. Some sick fuck who's long dead by now." Lalo shrugged.

"Is this why you didn't want to stay in the house? Because a family died in there?"

Lalo let out a dry laugh. "I was telling the truth. I don't feel comfortable in a house that size. It's too big, and I'm too small. And anyway, I don't believe in ghost stories."

"Ghost stories? Like...like what?" Rory gulped, turning away from Salvador's name, shifting his attention onto Lalo's face. His gentle expression, his golden honey eyes, his dimples, his scarred cheek, and shaggy chocolate hair that was pinned back with a clip.

"I'm not here to scare you." Lalo chuckled.

"Well, luckily, I don't believe in ghost stories either." Rory promised, "C'mon, what type of things do people say about this place?"

Lalo exhaled deeply and sat down on the shaded grass, crossing his legs. Rory imitated him and kneeled down too. "The stories are stupid." Lalo started, "Apparently, every full moon, at exactly midnight, you can hear a baby crying in the west wing. That was the wing where Salvador used to sleep."

"Why a full moon?"

"The family were killed under the full moon. At midnight."

Rory hesitated for a moment, "So, the house is — what — haunted?"

"Supposedly." Lalo answered. They sat there in silence for a couple of minutes, listening to the bird singing between the leafs of the almond trees. They left the cat lounging in the shadows behind Frida Hernandez's grave, and Lalo led Rory to the limestone edged pond, guarded by the stony faced saints and gargoyles.

As they emerged from the clearing of trees and approached the sparkling water, Rory glanced around in wonder, letting out a breath of relief. He looked at peace, like the rush of his busy city life was finally dissolving into the past, leaving him free and untethered. "This is beautiful."

"I love it here." Lalo replied, unsure whether he was referring to the small body of water specifically, or the grounds in general. He settled on a shady bench in a little alcove between tall leafy trees, where the cold face of a mossy angel peered though the gaps, its eyes hard and perceptive. There were a couple of books that Lalo had left behind, sitting patiently in the shadows, waiting to be read.

Rory picked up the books and sat down, "This is a Spanish philosopher." He commented, scanning the name on the front cover.

"How did you know?"

"I studied philosophy at school. I wanted to carry it on at university too."

"So, why didn't you?"

"It was a...complicated situation."

Lalo laughed lightly. "Parents?"

"Okay, so I guess it wasn't that complicated." Rory sighed, "They wanted me to do something practical, something I could actually use in the 'real world'."

"So, business and economics? That's rough, dude."

"It wasn't that bad." He reasoned, "What about you? Did you go to uni?"

Lalo almost snorted. He was never destined to do great things. He was set to either live a short life, or a quiet one. He chose a quiet one, and moved here. He could have easily swayed the other way, and he probably would have been dead by now. "Nah. College wasn't for me. I moved to Madrid when I was nineteen, trained up as a gardener for a year, and when I got this opportunity, I came here."

"What made you leave Chicago?"

"I wanted to be a different person." He said simply. "I did what you did. I ran. I left without a plan, and I ended up here. It's funny how sometimes everything just works out for the best."

"Why here?" Rory pried, pulling his legs to his chest as he relaxed on the white metal bench, overlooked by stone statues all around. "You could go anywhere. Why choose to be alone, in the middle of nowhere, working for an obnoxious British family?"

Lalo laughed, "I don't think you're obnoxious."

"Well, you don't know me yet." Yet. "But seriously, why come here? To some random house haunted by a crying baby?"

"And what about you?" Lalo countered. "You have as much freedom as I do, if not more. Why are you here?"

"I don't know." He answered truthfully. "I have a tendency to not think things through."

Neither of them said anything for a while. They were enjoying listening to the birds sing melodic tunes to each other while the bees buzzed around between the flower petals. "I should get back to work." Lalo was the first to break the silence. "Come by later. I'll make you dinner."

Rory returned a grateful smile. "Thanks. I promise I'll go out and buy some food tomorrow so you don't have to feed me anymore."

Lalo shook his head in dismissal, "It's no problem." He ensured. "I'm going into the village tomorrow morning to buy a few things anyway. You can come with me if you'd like?"

Rory nodded in appreciation, "Yeah. I would like that."