The Lost Angel [BxB]

flora

There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.

'I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings'
[Maya Angelou]

♡ ♡ ♡

12: FLORA

Lalo had started sleeping in Rory's arms, curled up in the little creaky bed under the window that overlooked the Hernandez family's graves. He was scared, not for his own safety, but for Rory's. If Julien showed up, there wasn't a doubt in his mind that he would murder anyone who stood in his way. So, Lalo decided that he couldn't let Rory sleep alone, it was too dangerous; he stashed a secret knife under the floorboards of the bedroom, and locked all the doors before they went to sleep (something they never used to bother doing, considering how remote the mansion was). They still stayed in the little wooden cabin occasionally, it was just a case of whichever bed was nearest when that wave of exhaustion hit them. As long as they were together, they were comfortable.

On a cool Wednesday night, three months since their arrival at the house, the two boys sat wrapped up in blankets on the bench by the pond, gazing up at the clear navy sky. An astronomy book sat beside them as they watched the twinkling diamonds that glittered in the velvet sky, the crescent moon looming over them. The stars reflected in the still water of the pond, Carmelita was curled up in Lalo's lap, and little white cups of fruity tea were forgotten at their feet. Everything was still, quiet, and peaceful. It was nights like these when Lalo almost forgot about the impending threat of a foreign visitor, and the sealed envelope from New Mexico that remained unread at the bottom of his drawer.

"What are you going to do when your contract is up?" Rory asked him softly, his fingers absentmindedly fiddling with a lock of Lalo's dark curls.

Lalo gulped. Until now, he and Rory had some sort of unspoken agreement about not mentioning the future. Neither of them wanted to entertain the idea that when Lalo's contract finished, so would they. "I'm not sure." He sighed.

"You know..." Rory continued, "Once my parents move in for the summer, they're still going to need a gardener, to keep everything alive and intact." He said, "And what about for the rest of the year? They're planning on only using this place as a summer home, after all. Someone's gonna have to take care of the place throughout winter."

Lalo chuckled under his breath, his eyes still glittering in the reflection of the stars that scattered the beautiful night sky. "What are you saying?"

"I could talk to my parents." He sounded enthusiastic, hopeful. "They might hire you. Full time."

"So, we never leave? Just like the ghosts of the Hernandez family?"

Rory rolled his eyes, "Well, that's not exactly how I saw it..."

"Rory." Lalo murmured, "Being here, with you..." He smiled faintly, "These past three months have been amazing. If heaven doesn't look like this, then send me to hell."

Rory laughed quietly, but then his expression fell blank and stony, "But?" He anticipated.

"I'm convinced that if I searched the entire planet, I wouldn't find anywhere that makes me as happy as I am right here, right now. But I can't stay forever, hanging around until I die, only to live between the wallpaper of that house for eternity, haunting everyone who steps foot inside." He explained, voice tinged with bittersweet regret, "And you can't stay either. There's a world waiting for you, a world that needs you, Rory. Fuck that business degree of yours; go back to college, study Philosophy, and do something you love."

"And you?" He queried sadly.

"I'll move on." Lalo laced his fingers through Rory's, and gently squeezed his hand, "I'll find a sleepy corner of the world. An island somewhere. In the Pacific, or off the coast of Thailand. It doesn't matter much to me."

Rory furrowed his brows as he turned to face Lalo, "Why?" He whispered. Lalo never knew how much emotion could be packed behind a single syllable, until this very moment.

"What do you mean?" He replied, finally pulling his gaze away from the stars in the sky, and instead focusing on the stars in Rory's eyes.

"Why leave everything behind?"

Lalo shook his head, "Rory, I'm not leaving you behind. I've found you, and I'm not letting go, okay?" He meant it. Whatever it took, they would find a way. He could give up his identity, his memories, and his life, but he would never sacrifice Rory. He would hold on as tightly as he could, and for as long as he could. He was falling in love.

Rory's expression visibly relaxed as relief washed over his feature. "Good, because I'm not letting go of you either." He promised, "But why move again? Why not stay in Spain, or go back to Chicago?"

"There's nothing left for me in Chicago." He gulped nervously. "And why would I stay here when there's a whole world I haven't seen yet?"

Rory tightened his grip around Lalo, as if scared that if he let go, he'd float away forever, "What about you family?"

Lalo's eyes fluttered shut as he took a deep breath, "I have to tell you something, Rory." If he couldn't reveal the entire truth about his name, where he's from, and why he left, then the least Lalo could do was come clean about one thing. "I don't have a family." He confessed. "My Mother was a prostitute. Flora. I always thought it was a pretty name." He said dreamily. "My Father could have been any one of her clients."

Rory's eyes widened, "Oh my god. Lalo, I'm sorry..."

Lalo waved him off, "Social services took me away when I was five. I grew up mainly in group homes. I-I've...never had a real family."

"I-I didn't know." Rory gulped. He had noticed that Lalo rarely talked about his childhood, but he never knew that the truth would be so traumatic. his heart flooded with sympathy for the poor boy, who had never felt the true warmth that came with feeling safe, and cared for, and loved. But then, ever so slowly, the clogs in Rory's brain resumed, and he noticed that not everything added up. "Your tattoo." he mumbled, "You said you got it when your uncle died, but...but you don't have an uncle...do you?"

Lalo panicked for a second, and then quickly rearranged his mask, smiling softly, "He wasn't my actual uncle. But figuratively speaking, that's how I saw him. He was one of my social workers who really helped me out throughout the years." With every lie he told Rory, he hated himself just a little more.

Rory nodded, seemingly believing the lie, though his eyes still appeared clouded with confusion, "You said your grandmother was Catholic, and that's how you recognised all the angels." He argued. "Was that...all just a lie?"

Lalo sighed and shot Rory his most apologetic eyes, "I'm sorry. I-I guess I was embarrassed to admit that I came from a fucked up background, so I just made up a lie about having a grandmother. Next to you, I just felt...inferior." He was tugging on Rory's heartstrings, trying to manipulate his emotions until he forgave him. He felt sick with guilt. "I knew about Uriel because when I was living in Madrid, I became fascinated with theology and religion, especially Catholicism. I checked out a bunch of library books about angels, and that's how I recognised them." Lalo admitted. He was telling the full, unfiltered truth.

"Why didn't you just say that?" Rory looked a little upset, but thankfully, not angry.

"Because we had just met." Lalo reasoned. "I didn't want you to think I was some nerd who studied theology in his free time."

Rory's smile returned, "First of all, I already know you're a huge nerd, and I think it's adorable." He insisted, "And I never want you to feel inferior. I'm so sorry about your family, and I'm sorry you couldn't tell me sooner."

The tension in Lalo's shoulders eased when he saw that Rory wasn't angry. "Thanks for understanding."

"You can tell me anything, you know that, right?"

Lalo forced a smile, "Of course."