The Lost Angel [BxB]

yolanda

I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.

'Pride and Prejudice'
[Jane Austen]

♡ ♡ ♡

22: YOLANDA

They retreated to separate bathrooms where they each peeled off their sticky clothes and hopped in the shower. They scrubbed their skin until it was red and raw, washing away every trace of evidence. The water was tinged red with metallic blood as it trickled down the drain, disappearing from their sight. Finally, with wet hair, and fresh clothes, they met again in the garden.

The bonfire was spitting angry sparks as the flames rose higher and higher, Lalo and Rory continuing to fuel the red hot monster with logs of firewood and old crumpled newspapers. As the smoke tangled into their wet hair and soaked through the warm fluffy clothes they had just put on, they begun their task. Bags of evidence were thrown into the hot pit; their bloody clothes, the dirty towels, bottles of empty cleaning products, and practically anything they had touched.

"What about the hammer?" Rory asked after everything had been burnt, and the fire quietened down.

"We'll wash it and put it back where you found it." Lalo replied, "But Julien's knife will have to be thrown in the sea with the rest of him."

"We're gonna need bricks." Rory commented, "Something heavy — so he doesn't float." He gulped.

Lalo nodded in agreement, "We're not gonna be able to cycle for two hours with a body and pile of bricks. We need a car."

"Can you drive?"

"Yeah, just about." Lalo answered.

"So, where are we gonna get a car from?"

Lalo didn't hesitate; his plan was solid. He'd already thought of everything. No detail was overlooked. "I'll ask Josefina." He suggested, "I'll tell her that you hurt your leg, and you can't cycle, but we really wanted to go to the beach. She'll let me use her car, I'm sure of it."

"Does she even have a car?" Rory asked sceptically.

"I don't know. But if she doesn't, she'll know someone who does."

They sat on the soft grass as the fire burnt out and the smoke twirled in the still air. When the embers faded into darkness, leaving nothing but ash behind, they both had another shower. Rory complained and asked why it was necessary, but quickly stopped moaning when Lalo pointed out the smell of bonfire smoke that clung stubbornly to their hair and skin.

After changing once again, Lalo grabbed his bike that was resting against the gilded gates, a bundle of pink flowers in the wicker basket, and hopped on, "You gonna be okay here?" He asked Rory.

Rory nodded, "I'll be fine."

"And you know what you have to do...?"

Rory sighed, "Yes." He insisted, "I've gotta clean the hammer, grab twenty bricks from the shed, and wash our clothes until they don't smell like smoke." He recited, "You've only told me a thousand times."

"I just wanna makes sure." Lalo defended. "Everything--"

"—has to be perfect." He finished. "I know."

"Okay." Lalo shrugged, "I'll see you in a little bit."

Rory grabbed his shoulder impulsively and Lalo slammed his foot onto the ground to stop his bike from rolling forward. He glanced up at the taller boy through soft hazel eyes, as his shaggy brown curls, still wet from the shower, dipped into his face. "Lalo, I..." Rory started stiffly.

"What's wrong?" Lalo frowned.

"I didn't just...stop loving you." He murmured, his words trailing off into thin air. "I couldn't, even if I wanted to. You, uh, know that, right?"

Lalo smiled faintly, "I know, Rory."

Rory grabbed a fistful of Lalo's shirt and pulled him in for kiss, their cool lips meeting for a short, brief, sweet moment, before reality returned. "See you later." Rory smiled.

Lalo placed his feet on the pedals, and tightened his grip on the handlebars before cycling off, down the familiar leafy lanes he knew all too well. He reached the village, and the wheels bounced along the cobbled pathways, shaded by the pastel buildings that loomed over him as a rainbow of pretty architecture. Once he reached the town square, he discarded his bike by the old chapel, tucked his hands into his pockets, and wandered over to the cheese stand, where Josefina had started to pack up for the day.

Her face lit up when she saw Lalo approaching, her arms outstretched, anticipating a hug. "Eladio." She greeted, "Llegas tarde. ¿Dónde has estado?"

"Lo siento, Josefina. Yo estaba trabajando." He apologised for being late, and quickly made up a lie — he was good at that. And anyway, he was working, it just wasn't the sort of work she was familiar with. "¿Cómo estás?"

And so he made small talk. He asked how she was, how business had been, if she had any plans for the rest of the week. He gave her some flowers, she gave him some free cheese, and finally, he asked about a car. She looked apologetic, shook her head, and told him she didn't have one. However, just as Lalo begun to lose faith in his supposedly flawless plan, Josefina's smile returned, and she told him that her niece, Yolanda, would let him borrow hers.

"Oh Dios mío." He almost laughed in pure relief, "¡Gracias! Muchas gracias!" He thanked her ecstatically, finally feeling as though everything was coming together. Maybe it would all work out. Maybe he would be okay. Rory knew about his past, and though he was angry initially, he seemed to have come to terms with it. He even told Lalo that he still loved him. Additionally, the situation regarding the body was under control, and soon, with the help of Josefina's niece, it would be dealt with entirely. Maybe he would be okay.

Yolanda managed a small vineyard on the outskirts of the village. She had the same kind eyes as her aunt, and when Josefina introduced her to Lalo, she gave him a big hug and a kiss on each cheek. He basked in her hospitality for a while, politely accepting a glass of fresh mint iced tea and a tray of mantecados, a Spanish delicacy he had become familiar with. He grew tense when she started questioning him about Chicago, but he had grown accustomed to the pretence of confidence, and soon, the conversation shifted, and he was in the clear.

Finally, she led him outside, told him to have fun at the beach, and to return the car over the next couple of days. She had a grey SEAT with scuffed up tyres and dog hair on the backseats. He thanked Yolanda a thousand times, gave both her and Josefina a tight hug, then fixed his turquoise bike onto the bike rack.

As he drove back to the manor, a small smile graced his features. Everything was under control, everything was going to be okay. Rory's words punctured through his fuzzy mind and rung in his head like a stubborn echo. They were all he could hear.

I didn't just...stop loving you.

I couldn't, even if I wanted to.