"I wanted to give Robbie and Cecilia what they lost out in this life, I'd like to think this isn't weakness or evasion, but a fine act of kindness I... give them happiness"
Imagine being an undercover agent who once infiltrated Umbrella and grew close to Luis Serra. You were forced to separate from him, never telling him why and broke his heart in the process. When you thought that you have finally moved on, you find him again. Tied up in a sack.
“What’s in Spain?”
“My home. A village, to be exact. And remote. The people there could use people like us to help them. No one would be able to find us there. Not even Umbrella. There, we can disappear.”
“…I’m sorry, Luis. I can’t.”
.
“You seem distracted.”
“What?” you blink, immediately biting your tongue after. But it was too late, you were caught red-handed.
“Case in point,” your partner Leon sighs. “So, what is it? What’s on your mind?”
You reply with a frown, “I’m wondering how deep these tunnels go. Must have something important down here for these… villagers to go through the trouble of trying to lock it up inconspicuously.”
It was such a blatant lie, the blond’s stony expression showed that he wasn’t buying it at all. But Leon doesn’t say anything. Instead, he leads on with his gun and flashlight pointing forward in the darkness. You were relieved that he didn’t press further.
But he’s also right. You were distracted and on a mission where a steady, focused mind is imperative at all times. Mulling over the past on things that were best laid forgotten is meaningless and offered no benefit to the task at hand. So why bother even allowing it to weigh so heavily in your thoughts?
Because what are the odds that this is the same place that he mentioned? The one that he wanted to hide away with you within? Given everything you’ve seen so far, with all these monsters roaming about, you sincerely hope not. Surely this is all coincidental and that he is in some other part of Spain.
.
“You mentioned that you grew up in Spain, right? What was it like there?”
“Oh? For once you don’t want to talk about work or whatever ingenius discoveries I’ve made recently? Pero, you actually want to engage in small talk? It must be a sign!”
“Answer the question or I’m requesting a department change.”
“Calma, calma. I only tease. Hmm… The weather can be unforgiving, especially during the rainy season. The people live day-to-day on whatever resources that can grow or be found under the constantly harsh conditions. Sickness often spreads and the treatment is… archaic.”
“This all sounds awful.”
“It wasn’t all bad. Everyone in our small community had someone to support them. I had my grandfather. He helped shape me to be the man I am today. A very handsome man at that, with both brains and brawn. In case, you didn’t notice already.”
“He must be very proud of you.”
“I hope so...”
“You don’t keep in touch?”
“So interested in my life story all of a sudden. And yet I still know so little of yours.”
“What’s there to know? There’s not much to tell.”
“See, that is where you’re wrong, my friend. A key to a great story is time to gather your thoughts. And I wouldn’t mind making time to listen to yours. How does after work sound? There’s an excellent coffee spot around the corner.”
“…You know what? A drink sounds great.”
.
You should have rejected him then and there. The task was only to gather information and find evidence of the production of biochemical weaponry. Forming attachments was not part of the job. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to deny him then, convincing yourself that it was necessary to reinforce your cover. You were seen as just a researcher forging deep interpersonal relationships with your fellow coworker and not at all a spy for the government sent to infiltrate a pharmaceutical giant for secrets that could topple a nation.
No one suspected a thing- not Umbrella, not your handlers, not even him. It worked. But it didn’t make you feel any less guilty about it, especially when you developed real feelings for him and he reciprocated them earnestly and affectionately. At first, you meant to play along with no intention of taking him seriously. The Spanish researcher expressed himself as a man who talks a big game but settles down or folds over for no one. He had a reputation within the labs as a serial flirt after all.
However, the day he casually asked you out, he surprised you. Beneath all the playful, charming remarks and practiced come-hither smirks belied a genuine romantic. He was a man passionate about his work, driven by a real desire to help others. He cared about other people, evident at how intently he listened to you when your shared bits of yourself to him. Granted, much of what you said then was fabricated to uphold your secret identity, but he showed unwavering interest in you and the image you created as if you two were only people in that coffee shop that mattered. After one date came another, then another, then another until you lost count. You fell for him and you fell for him hard. And before you knew it, at his suggestion, the two of you moved in together.
It was a dream. A wonderful dream. You couldn’t remember the last time you lived a normal life, let alone someone to come home to. It was such a domestic feeling. To go wit him to work by day then go home together by night to fall asleep in each other’s arms and do it all over again the following morning. To fall into a routine was strange and something you grew affectionately accustomed to. And it was all because of him. He made you feel safe. He made you feel loved. He made you feel normal. But it was only a dream. And all dreams eventually come to an end.
It got to a point where you dug yourself so deep that by the time you had to shed your identity and leave him, it left scars that neither of you would ever recover from.
.
“¿Qué? What do you mean, you can’t?”
“I can’t go to Spain with you.”
“Is it the location? We can go anywhere you want,l, but we have to make sure we hide our tracks from Umbrella-”
“I mean that I can’t go with you. Anywhere. Period.”
“¿Mande? Why.”
“I want to tell you, I really do.”
“…Tú no me quieres.”
“No! Of course I do.”
“Then why? Why can’t you run away with me? I can protect us, you just have to trust-”
“This isn’t about trust.”
“Then tell me what it is!”
“…This isn’t going to work. I’m sorry, I have to go.”
“L-Lo siento, mi corazon. I didn’t meant to shout. We can work through this-”
“Just please remember that what we had was real.”
“¡Amor!”
“Goodbye, Luis.”
.
That was the last time you saw him. You broke his heart, the pieces of yours shattered away with every step that you took away from him. Revisiting those memories all caused a single tear to fall down your cheek.
You have to move on. It’s been long enough. It was all to protect him, you told yourself countless times. In your line of work, attachments just do not (and cannot) stick. And you stuck with that choice without an ounce of regret. You only hope that wherever Luis is now, he’s happy and safe. That alone kept you going.
When you finally broke yourself out of your daze, you found yourself facing a wall. You quietly berated yourself for your absentmindedness again and were grateful for the darkness. Luckily, your fellow agent didn’t notice you or your inner turmoil, something else catching his attention at the end of the tunnel.
“Over here. I found someone.”
Your head snaps towards Leon’s direction, your heartache momentarily dulled and set aside. “Ashley Graham?”
“Don’t know yet,” Leon replies, crouching down. “Here, hold the light.”
You hurry over to the blond’s side, taking the flashlight from him and directing it towards his finding. A large sack, big enough for a person, was flailing about. The sound of muffled struggling reaches your ears. Leon unties the top of the thick cloth before pulling it down. You almost didn’t believe what, or rather, who you were seeing. But your eyes were blown wide in recognition before Leon rips the tape off of their mouth. There was no mistaking those rugged features, that dark hair, and those grey eyes that you fell in love with helplessly so long ago.
It was him. The man that haunted your every thoughts and dreams. The man that dug his way into your heart and made a home there.
Luis Serra Navarro.
“Oh no, not you.”
The man merely gazes back at you, momentarily stunned before chuckling in that husky voice of his that you thought you’d never hear again.
“I’ve missed you too, mi corazon,” he says. His eyes glide over your form lasciviously, uncaring that you (and your partner) can see him staring shamelessly. He looked and smiled at you as if the years spent apart never happened. “Te ves bien.”
A
aeipathy (n.) - an enduring and consuming passion
aleatory (n.) - relying on chance or an uncontrolled element in the details of life or in the creation of art
alharaca (spanish, n.) - an extraordinary or violent emotional reaction to a small issue
anacampserote (n.) - something that can bring back a lost love
antiscians (n.) - people who live on opposite sides the world, “whose shadows at noon are cast in opposite directions”
áoyè // 熬夜 (chinese, n.) - to pull an all-nighter
appetence (n.) - an eager desire, an instinctive inclination; an attraction or a natural bond
aranyhíd (hungarian, n) - “the golden bridge”; the reflection of the sun as it shines on water
aspectabund (adj.) - letting or being able to let expressive emotion show easily through one’s face and eyes
asterismos (n.) - “marking with stars”; a word that gives weight or draws attention to the words that follow
aswium // 아쉬움 (korean, n.) - the mingled feeling of disappointment, frustration, and regret that results from an unsatisfactory situation
atermoiements (french, n.) - distractions or hesitations leading to procrastination
avos’ // авось (russian, n.) - blind trust in sheer luck
B
balter (v.) - to dance artlessly, without particular grace or skill but usually with enjoyment
basorexia (n.) - the overwhelming desire to kiss
bilita mpash (bantu, n.) - the opposite of a nightmare; not merely a good dream, but a blissful state where all is forgiven and forgotten
brontide (n.) - the low rumble of distant thunder
brumous (adj.) - of grey skies and winter days; filled with heavy clouds or fog
b’shirt // באשַערט (yiddish, n.) - “destiny”; referring to the seeking of a person who will complement you and whom you will complement perfectly
vaporwave
turnnoffyourmind
stormborns
pixelskylines
