The Lost Angel [BxB]

maxi

Love is the longing for the half of ourselves we have lost.

'The Unbearable Lightness of Being'
[Milan Kundera]

♡ ♡ ♡

16: MAXI

A weight was lifted from Lalo's shoulders when Esme departed. One less person to protect. One less witness.

He fell back into his normal routine after that. He got up at five AM, tended to the garden, cycled into town, handed out lemons and flowers to the villagers, returned to the house as Rory started to awaken from his slumber, made breakfast, then got back to gardening. Everything was as it always had been. Familiar, comfortable, normal.

On a Monday night like any other, as the boys lay sprawled out across the bed in the wooden hut, clinging onto each other for dear life, Lalo finally got a grip of his confidence, "Rory?"

"Hm?"

"I think I love you."

Rory shuffled onto his side, an ecstatic grin breaking out across his face. Without a moment's hesitation, he pressed his lips onto Lalo's, giving him a sloppy kiss before murmuring, "I think I love you too."

Every day, Lalo's feelings for Rory would grow stronger. They were destroying him, leaving him weak, helpless, and fragile. He was transforming into a different version of himself; a better version, but nonetheless a version reliant and dependent on someone else. He had never experienced that before. He'd spent his whole life fending for himself, longing for solitude, searching for an escape.

And now, Rory was his escape.

He made him realise how lonely loneliness really was. He never wanted to be alone again, and every second that passed, he grew more scared of the future. One month. One month until his contract was up, the garden was finished, and the Tuckers would be moving in for the summer.

Just thirty days until he had to pack up and leave. He wasn't just leaving behind a house, he was leaving behind a life, an imprint in history that would forever remain. The statues would remember his face, the birds would miss his voice, and Carmelita would long for his presence. Rory urged him to come back and visit, but he knew that wouldn't be possible. He had chosen a life with so many limitations; once he made his mark somewhere, he could never return. In one month time, the mansion would exist solely in his memory.

So would Josefina and Ignacio. So would Poseidon and Medusa. So would the bees and the lady bugs. So would Michael, Raphael, and Gabriel. So would the missing sculpture if Uriel.

The mystery of the lost Angel.

Another one of humanity's unanswered questions. A case never to be closed, a story never to end.

He turned to look into Rory's beautiful green eyes, "It's the full moon tonight." He reminded him.

"Is that why you wanted to sleep here, rather than in the house?" He teased, "We're safe from ghosts all the way out here, right?"

Lalo rolled his eyes, "I'm not scared."

Rory slid his arms around Lalo's waist, and nuzzled into his side, "It's alright, I'll protect you."

"I don't need your protection, Rory." Lalo insisted dryly, "I'm just...feeling sentimental." He admitted. "I've got a month left, and this cabin was where I started. It still feels like home."

"Just because your contract finishes, it doesn't mean everything has to end. Wherever you go next, you can take your cat, you can take Josefina's recipes, you can even take my shirts, since you seem to have an aversion to wearing your own."

Lalo chuckled. He was right. For the rest of his life, he would carry with him little pieces of this place. "Carmelita stays here." He sighed, "This is her home."

Rory nodded in understanding, "She'll miss you."

"I'll miss her too." He confessed sadly, "But she'll have you. Every summer."

"I'll take good care of her. And in the winter months, maybe someone from the village will look after her." He suggested hopefully.

"I already talked to Ignacio. He's happy to have her."

Rory ran his fingers through Lalo's hair, "And who's going to take care of you?"

Lalo laughed, "I'm a big boy, I think I can handle myself. I've managed for the last twenty years."

Rory smiled, "I know you can." He said endearingly, "But whenever you want a break from being so strong, give me a call, and I'll be there. Wherever you are in the world, Lalo, I'll always find a way to you."

Lalo almost cried. He wanted their paradise to last forever. This wasn't fair. He didn't want to leave. "I really do love you."

"I love you too." Rory whispered.

With the moon hanging above them, they started to kiss. As soft moans of passion filled the cabin, they made love. Gently, lovingly, desperately. They touched each other like it was the last time they'd ever be together. Once it was over, they curled up under the duvets and fell asleep.

Or, at least, Rory did.

Once he was in a deep quiet slumber, Lalo peeled away and crept to the other side of the cabin, where his minuscule kitchen was set up. He opened the top drawer, and after moving a couple of sharp knives as quietly as he could, he pulled out a thin white envelope.

He glanced through the small square window. Grey clouds were rolling in, fogging the night sky and obscuring the twinkling stars.

A storm was coming.

The New Mexico stamp stared up at him, threateningly, challengingly, begging him to peek inside.

After months of keeping the envelope in that dark dusty drawer, too scared to even look at it, he ripped open the seal with shaking hands.

It was a postcard. On one side, a glossy picture of a hilly desert. On the other, a messy scribble.

Looking forward to seeing you again, Maxi.

- J