✧ dame más gasolina ✧

[abel-airhart]

Abel let out a low laugh when she warned him, eyes flicking over her with open admiration. “Winning?” he echoed smoothly. “Berta, I don’t win against you, I survive. And even then, barely.” His grin turned competitive. “But don’t get it twisted. Confidence looks good on you just not as good as competitiveness looks on you." When she promised they didn’t have to miss each other right now, Abel leaned in, voice dropping, softer but no less charged. “Good,” he murmured. “Because I’m terrible at pretending I don’t want you when you’re right here.” At her sad smile, his tone gentled. “Hey. Two weeks is ours. I’m not wasting a single second thinking about the goodbye.” At her teasing about his looks, Abel shook his head, scoffing dramatically. “Handsome and tall? Careful,” he said, smirking. “You keep talking like that and I’m going to start believing I’m the best decision you ever made." At the tiger-sized cat comment, Abel laughed, already committed. “A big one? Fine. But when it ignores me and only listens to you, you're gonna be the one cleaning it's litter box." When she teased about him admitting defeat, he leaned back, mock-offended. “Whoa, whoa. Don’t get greedy,” he shot back. “My pride is premium. You don’t just get that for free. I want to be about to gloat loud and proud." Her kneeling comment earned a slow, dangerous smile. “Victory sex is absolutely a thing,” Abel said calmly. “And if I win? I expect you to be very gracious about it.” As she declared him already losing, he chuckled. “Bold talk for someone about to be proven wrong,” he replied. “But I like your confidence. Makes winning sweeter.” At her question about food, Abel considered it for half a second before glancing at her. He wiggled his eyebrows exaggeratedly, playful and unapologetic. “Mm,” he said smoothly, voice dipping just enough to make it dangerous. “I’m hungry.” He let the pause linger just long enough before adding, eyes on her, unmistakable. “Just not for food.” His grin turned competitive and affectionate all at once. Abel’s eyes dragged over her shamelessly, slow and appreciative, like he was committing the view to memory. He tilted his head, licked his lips, and let out a quiet, impressed hum. Then, with a satisfied grin, he got into the passenger seat, stretching out comfortably. Passenger princess mode engaged. He glanced back at her, eyebrows lifting again. “Alright,” Abel said smoothly, relaxed and smug. “Take me home, baby."

[bertarojas]

at his teasing about being the best decision she’d ever made, berta rolled her eyes dramatically, though the smile tugging at her lips gave her away. “you’re not tall enough to be my best decision,” she shot back, turning in her seat just to stick her tongue out at him. truth was, she’d choose abel over and over without hesitation—but he didn’t need to hear that right now. “and obviously i want the cat to love both of us. but i’m cleaning the litter box, i’m the one basically always home,” she added, lifting her brows as if that settled it. when he summarized their little bet, she nodded thoughtfully. “so what you want is for me to admit you won, that i lost, and then sleep with you?” she tapped her chin. “i’m very into the second part of that deal.” his confidence only fueled her competitive streak. “and who exactly has proven me wrong before? i always win. you’ve maybe won once. maybe.” she tried to recall, conveniently ignoring the times she’d flipped the chessboard or sabotaged monopoly before defeat could be official. losing simply wasn’t in her vocabulary—that was her red flag and she owned it. when he mentioned being hungry but not for food, her brows lifted, lips parting in a playful grin. “you’re dangerous, airhart,” she murmured. “skipping food isn’t smart though. low energy means you’ll be a disappointing opponent, and then i’ll get bored.” she winked. “home it is.” once they pulled up, she barely waited for the engine to stop before hopping out, hurrying to grab his bags from the back. “okay, ready?” she beamed, reaching for his hand and tugging him toward the door with barely contained excitement, already plotting how she’d make sure she still came out on top.

[abel-airhart]

Abel laughed the second Berta stuck her tongue out, the sound warm and unguarded, like being home already. He loved that look on her—confident, teasing, already convinced of her victory. It made his chest ache in the best way. “Oh, I love how sure you are,” he said, leaning in with a grin. “That confidence? Extremely attractive. Also deeply misguided.” He tilted his head, eyes sparkling. “Physically impossible to lose? Careful. That’s exactly what every future loser says.” At her jab about him being a happy loser, he chuckled and brushed a thumb along her jaw. “Happy loser?” he echoed. “Please. I’m gracious. There’s a difference. And only because you look unbearably cute when you win.” He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, lingering just long enough to feel her sigh, and smiled when she complained about the ma’am. “Alright, alright,” he said gently. When she whispered that she’d missed him, the teasing in his expression softened instantly. He leaned in, forehead resting against hers, voice lower. “I know,” he said quietly. “I miss you too. Every day. In ways that don’t even make sense to me sometimes." Her question about how long he was staying made his chest tighten, but he didn’t dodge it. “A little while,” he answered honestly, brushing his thumb along her cheek. “Long enough to make the most of it. Long enough to be with you. Two weeks." In the car, he stretched out exaggeratedly the moment he sat down, smirk firmly in place. “Oh, thank you,” he said lazily. “It’s exhausting being this tall and handsome. I suffer constantly.” When she mentioned the steaks, his eyes lit up. “Of course you did,” he said fondly. “You always know. It’s a little scary how well you know me.” He glanced at her, smiling. At her challenge, he laughed, turning toward her fully. “A cat?” he repeated, clearly amused. “You’re already planning for my defeat—I admire that. Alright. If you win, you get your cat.” Then he raised a brow, grin slow and charming. “And if I win?” He pretended to think, tapping his chin. “I want a whole weekend where you admit—out loud—that I beat you. Repeatedly.” He laughed, eyes full of affection. “But don’t worry. I know you think you’re unbeatable. I kind of love that about you. Just be ready to kneel at my feet when I do win."

[bertarojas]

berta glanced at abel as he told her how attractive her confidence was. she flipped her hair back, a smirk on her lips. "you're so wrong if you think you're winning, earhart," she warned him playfully. "i look unbearably cute and i always win. i don't think you can really complain when i look this good anyway," she stuck her tongue out at him, grinning. as he leaned in closer and their conversation got quieter, she felt goosebumps all over. she closed her eyes, taking his words in. "well, we don't have to miss each other right now," she promised warmly. she was just glad they were together, at least for a bit. "but only for a while," she said softly, trying to hide her sad smile. it was heartbreaking that the thought of him leaving was already haunting them again. "two weeks? that's amazing," she smiled, glancing at him as he sat down. two weeks was longer than usual—she could definitely work with that. she was going to make the most of it. as he got settled, she started the engine and pulled away. "how’d i get so lucky, having a boyfriend this handsome and tall?" she laughed, teasing him. "i think we've been together long enough for me to know you better than i know myself," she pointed out, raising her eyebrows mockingly. "yes, i want a cat," she nodded. "a big one, one of those that looks like a tiger." she laughed when he told her he’d get her one if she won. "that was easy. get ready to be a dad," she smiled. she looked over at him as he kept talking. "admitting out loud that i beat you? honestly, that’s a bigger prize than the cat. that's not fair," she said, sounding intentionally childish. "oh, so you want me to kneel if you win? victory sex? is that even a thing?" she teased, driving toward their place. "you know what, you're losing anyway, so it doesn't matter," she nodded. "what do you feel like eating? we can stop somewhere on the way home."

[abel-airhart]

Abel couldn’t help the way his shoulders eased the moment he saw her—some knot inside him always unclenched the second Berta was in front of him again. Distance never got easier, but reunions like this made every mile worth it. She smirked, and Abel’s own smile softened at the sight—he’d missed that look more than he ever admitted over the phone. When she declared losing impossible, he shook his head, eyes warm. “Yeah, I know,” he said, grin tugging at his mouth, “I’ve met you. Competitive isn’t even the word—you’re a whole tactical operation when there’s a scoreboard involved." Her “army boy” jab earned her a mock-offended scoff, even as affection shone through every part of him. “I don’t like getting my ass kicked,” he protested, though the fondness in his voice betrayed him instantly. “I just like you. And unfortunately for me, you come with elbows of death.” She stuck her tongue out, and he reached up to tap her chin gently. “Oh, I’m terrified,” he deadpanned. “Shaking in my boots.” Her laugh, her kiss to his cheek—God, he’d missed that. Missed her. At her order to get in the car, Abel huffed a soft laugh, stepping closer to brush a thumb over her jaw before leaning down to kiss her forehead. “Yes, ma’am,” he murmured against her skin, voice thick with affection. He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, the warmth in his own unmistakable and spread his arms out wide. “It’s good to be home." Abel rounded the car with the easy, familiar confidence of someone who’d already slipped back into their shared rhythm. He opened the passenger door, dropped into the seat, and immediately reached for the lever—pushing the chair back with a low sigh of relief as his long legs finally had room to exist. He shot Berta a sideways glance as he stretched out, one arm draping lazily over the center console. “Come on,” he prompted, a slow grin growing, “you know there’s gotta be stakes.” He tilted his head toward her, eyebrow lifting with clear challenge. “What’s the deal for this game? Loser got to do something? ’Cause you talk a big game, but I wanna know what I’m supposedly suffering through when you win.” His grin widened, teasing and warm. “Or what you’re doing when you don’t.”

[bertarojas]

planning nights like that made things easier for berta; missing him took up so much space in her mind, always thinking about him, wanting him to come back, feeling jealous when she saw couples on the street holding hands, laughing, sharing time together, while all she could do was wish for a phone call whenever abel was away. thinking about things they could do when he came back helped her get through her days. “oh, if there’s a chance of winning, my mind goes straight into game mode and you can do whatever you want, but it’s physically impossible for me to lose,” she joked, sticking her tongue out at him. “you don’t like it? i thought you’d be a happy loser after all this time of me winning,” she added with a smile. “elbows of death? i think what’s scarier is that i bite,” she laughed back. feeling his lips on her cheek made berta sigh—that was exactly where she wanted to be, his fingers under her chin, eyes closed, wrapped in the warmth that came with abel. “don’t call me ma’am, i feel old when you say that,” she chuckled, shaking her head. when their eyes met, she smiled softly. “i’ve missed you,” she whispered, “so much it hurts.” then, quieter, she asked, “how long are you staying home?” the question she hated asking but needed to, just to brace herself for him leaving again. when he sat in the car, she followed, taking her place in the driver’s seat where she belonged, noticing the way he stretched out. “oh, of course, make yourself comfortable,” she teased, “it must be so hard being tall, huh?” she chuckled as she started the engine. “steaks? you’re in luck, because i knew you’d want them and i got you some,” she smiled. “i’m in your mind, i know what you want even when you don’t say it,” she added with a laugh, mentioning how her dad had helped her prep them and hoping they’d be good as she pulled out of the parking spot. “oh, you want a challenge?” she asked, glancing at him. “if i win… you’re getting me a cat,” she joked, making it up on the spot. “and if you win? what do you want—go as crazy as you like, it’s not happening either way.”

[abel-airhart]

When her hands slid up from his chest to wrap around his neck, he instinctively drew her closer, one arm curling around her waist. Hearing her admit how much she missed him made something in his chest tighten. He’d missed her too — more than he’d ever say out loud. “I missed you too,” he said quietly, pressing a light kiss to her temple. “Every damn day.” Her teasing made him chuckle, that familiar spark between them coming alive again. “You’re lucky I’m biased, or I’d say that’s debatable.” Abel couldn’t help but let out a low scoff of laughter when she said she wasn’t competitive. Yeah, right. He’d seen that fire in her too many times to count — the way her eyes would flash when she lost. “You’re not competitive?” he echoed with a grin, his voice thick with amusement as he shook his head. “Come on, Berta. I’ve still got the scars from high school to prove otherwise.” He kept his forehead pressed against hers for a moment longer, his thumb brushing lightly along her jaw as he smiled at her. “But I like that you’re not gonna go easy on me. Wouldn’t feel right if you did.” His tone softened, teasing fading into warmth. “Yeah,” he murmured, his eyes holding hers. “Army boy gets no sympathy from you when it comes to winning, huh?” he teased, voice rich with that low, familiar rasp. He shook his head, a chuckle slipping out. “Figures. I come back thinking maybe I’d get a little mercy, but nope — same ruthless Berta I left behind.” His thumb traced slow circles against her hip, eyes warm even as he smirked. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve never been one to let me off easy. I wouldn't want you too either."

[bertarojas]

those moments when they reunited always made her feel incredibly grateful— it was something people didn’t really think about, picking up their partner, seeing them at the door after being apart. berta cherished it every single time, especially because her relationship with abel was long‑distance more often than not, with him constantly away working. hearing that he missed her too was enough to make her heart flutter; she couldn’t love anyone more than she loved abel, it felt physically impossible. “those scars were already there,” she shook her head (she knew she had scrached him, she knew she went in full competitive mode and she scared him, she wasn't going to admit it though), “you’re just a sore loser because my team won that basketball match,” she smirked; when berta played, raced, or competed, she turned into a full competitive beast— she had to win, losing was not part of her vocabulary. “i think it’s physically impossible for me to let anyone win,” she chuckled. “army boy doesn’t get sympathy, because he likes it when i kick his ass,” she teased, sticking her tongue out at him. “oh, i’m merciless, you should be scared of me,” she laughed. she kissed his cheek. “get your ass in the car, dinner’s waiting to be heated and i’m not giving people a show out here,” she said, tapping his chest. “welcome home, baby.”

[abel-airhart]

Abel couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped him at her teasing, his chest warming just at the sight of her smile. He pressed his forehead against hers a little more firmly, savoring the closeness he had missed far more than he wanted to admit. “I’ll admit it then,” he murmured, voice low but full of affection. “I missed you, Berta. Every second away from you feels too long.” His hands smoothed down her back as he held her, a tender grin tugging at his lips. “And nuggets, chips, nachos, and you? That sounds like the best plan I’ve ever heard,” he said sincerely, his eyes crinkling with happiness. “Board games and falling asleep with you on the couch—simple, yes. But it’s exactly what I want. You always know how to make my home time feel perfect.” His thumb traced along her jaw as he pressed another quick kiss to her lips, clearly already delighted at the thought of teasing her through every round they played. “Tell me, Berta… am I going to see your competitive side tonight?”

[bertarojas]

berta looked at him as he pressed his forehead against hers, not wanting to miss a second of seeing the person she’d missed the most. “thanks for letting me know, i feel way better now,” she whispered, her hands sliding from his chest up to his shoulders and around the back of his neck. “i miss you more with every day that passes, and by yesterday i was fully spiraling,” she admitted softly. she pulled back just enough to look at abel, a smile curving her lips. “the perfect plan? what can i say, i’m the best,” she teased, tossing her head back. she felt his fingers trace along her jaw before he pressed a quick kiss to her lips, making her smile widen. when he asked his next question, her eyebrows lifted—he knew exactly how competitive she was. it wasn’t just about racing; it went way back, maybe even to high school. she could still picture the times she’d gotten mad when she lost—especially when she lost to him. she arched an eyebrow at him, trying to play it off. “i’m not competitive,” she lied with a laugh. “but i’m definitely not going to let you win just because you were out serving the country,” she said with a grin. “is that enough of an answer for you?”

[abel-airhart]

Abel melted into her embrace, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest as he returned the kiss with a little more steadiness. He looked at her with half-lidded eyes, warmth and playfulness tangled in his tiredness. “Mm, careful, Berta,” he teased softly, brushing his thumb along her cheek, “kiss me like that and I might forget how exhausted I am.” His smile crooked, boyish and mischievous despite the heaviness lingering in his shoulders. He leaned his forehead against hers for a moment, breathing her in. “Missed you too—more than I should admit. As much as I love my father he can be a lot to handle." His hand slid down to rest at her waist, pulling her just a little closer, his tone softening into something tender. “So, what’s this evening you have planned all about tonight, huh?"

[bertarojas]

missing him never really went away—since the first time he left, she knew she’d miss him every single time he walked out their door. it wasn’t easy, but life wasn’t supposed to be easy, and berta knew that. at his words, she raised a brow. “you’re in luck i have today planned, otherwise i’d kiss you like that again. i’m not scared of you, airhart,” she teased, smiling when he pressed his forehead against hers. “oh, you can admit you missed me, it makes me feel better,” she added with a grin, her arms looping around his neck as he pulled her closer. “i bought nuggets, chips, and nachos. we’re going home, playing board games until we fall asleep on the couch together,” she said simply. “as simple as that—but if you ask me, it’s a great idea, don’t you think?”

[bertarojas]

berta had the whole evening planned—first, she’d drive to a client’s house to deliver their commissioned dress, then she’d pick up abel. dinner, a few games she’d already chosen, a little fun, and finally a movie—it was perfect. once her errand was done, she headed to the spot abel had sent her and waited inside her car, nerves buzzing with how much she’d missed him. when a knock startled her against the window, her heart jumped, but the second she saw it was him, a wide smile spread across her face. she hurried out of the car and wrapped her arms around him tightly. “i’ve missed you,” she breathed, pressing a clumsy kiss to his lips, “a lot.” @abel-airhart

[abel-airhart]

Abel caught the other guy’s loudmouth rant with a sharp flick of his middle finger—no words needed, just a silent, deadly fuck off. But beyond that, he barely even registered the guy. His entire focus was locked on Berta. She was standing fierce and unflinching between him and trouble, eyes blazing with that fire only she could summon. She wasn’t just defending herself—she was protecting him, making it clear that crossing either of them would be a big mistake. He couldn't help but to find her even hotter in that moment than he did already. Without hesitation, Abel stepped forward and cupped the back of her head, fingers threading into her hair with a possessive, tender grip. His body tensed with the rush of adrenaline, his soul still tangled up somewhere in the chaos of the race and confrontation, but when he looked at her—at that sharp, confident smirk—he was so damn proud it made his chest ache. He scanned her quickly, checking her over—making sure she was unscathed, fire still burning in her eyes. “That’s my girl,” he said low, voice rough with pride and a heat that made his heart pound. He pressed a brief, possessive kiss to her lips. Abel’s eyes flicked down to the keys in Berta’s hand, surprise flickering across his face. “Wait…” he murmured, voice thick with disbelief, “For me?” he asked, brow raising in genuine shock. Then, with a crooked, amused grin, he shook his head, voice soft but proud. “Baby, no.” He cupped her cheek gently, the disbelief melting into something almost cute—like he couldn’t quite believe she’d do something so bad-ass for him, even though he knew damn well she could. His voice came out rough with disbelief, eyes flicking up to meet hers—wide, stunned, and already softening with a crooked, love-drunk grin. “You won me a sports car?” he asked, like the words couldn’t even make it all the way out of his mouth without catching. He let out a breathy, stunned laugh, running a hand over his face before looking at her again, completely floored. “You went out there, smoked some guy who drives like he’s got a death wish, and walked away with his keys… for me?” He was speechless for a beat—rare for him. Then he gently pulled her in by the back of her neck again, eyes still searching her face like he had to make sure she was real. Abel’s grin turned mischievous as he shook his head in disbelief, eyes sparkling with playful heat. “Since when did my girlfriend turn into such a sexy adrenaline junkie?” he teased, voice dripping with flirtation. Abel’s hands slid down to her waist, fingers curling firmly as he pulled her flush against him.

[bertarojas]

berta won the race, and when abel came to help her after that asshole threatened her, her heart raced even faster than before. when he kissed her hand against the back of her head, she couldn’t feel happier, couldn’t feel more alive. pressing a possessive kiss to his lips, she smiled and let out a chuckle, the surprise in his eyes only making her grin widen. “for you,” she nodded, savoring the shock on his face. “baby, yes, i beat that asshole’s ass just to win a car for you,” she smirked, loving how stunned he looked, as if he had forgotten how close they’d been to a fight earlier. little did he know she’d do anything for him, no matter the consequences. “yup, basically that. don’t be so surprised, i’m not giving you my car. this one has to win me more races—you can keep the loser’s,” she said louder, making sure the past owner heard every word. when abel pulled her closer, her eyes glinted and her smile only grew, the thrill of the night pulsing through her veins. for a moment, she’d regretted telling him to come, not wanting to worry him, but now? now it felt perfect. “your girlfriend’s always been a sexy adrenaline junkie,” she teased with a smile before stealing a quick kiss. “you should get your car and go, we don’t know when the cops will show and i’m not about to deal with that mess,” she warned, though her grin stayed fixed. “let’s go—I’d race you home, but i don’t want my good boy getting in trouble,” she teased, giving him another kiss before playfully shoving him toward the car.

[bertarojas]

✧ racing ✧

Young Berta stood on the edge of the barrier, small hands gripping the metal tight, her voice barely audible over the scream of engines. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat rising off the asphalt, the sun beating down on her dark curls, her little feet sore from standing too long but refusing to sit. She didn’t care. She wouldn’t miss a second of it. “¡Vamos, papá!” she shouted, her voice lost in the thunder, but it didn’t matter—he knew she was there. He always knew. Her mom stood behind her with Antonio balanced on her hip, Irene tugging at her other hand, squinting into the sunlight. Their weekends looked like this—noisy, chaotic, joyful. A different town every Friday, the cramped car filled with snack wrappers and spare tires and her dad’s tools, the whole family following him from circuit to circuit like a loyal pit crew. She remembered one race more clearly than the rest—not because he won, though he did—but because of what happened right after. His car had glided into the final turn like it was part of him, kissed the edge of the curb, then shot forward with a precision that made her heart stop and soar all at once. The cheers from the stands had been deafening, but none louder than hers. She screamed so hard she lost her voice for a day. Her dad leapt from the car as it rolled into the pit and ran straight to her, sweat-drenched and smiling, scooping her into his arms even before he got his helmet off, his suit still half-zipped. He smelled like gasoline, heat, and sunblock. “Did you see that, chiquitita?” he asked, laughing. She nodded so hard her teeth clacked. “I saw everything.” It was her favorite place to be, the only place that felt entirely right—engines whirring, tires squealing, her father’s voice shouting orders to his team, her mother’s arms holding her siblings as she clapped just as hard as Berta did. It was all so big and fast and alive.

But as the years went on, the travel got harder. Irene started school, Antonio got sick on long drives, and their mother began to stay home more often. It wasn’t out of anger—it was exhaustion, quiet and creeping. Berta kept going to races even when the others stopped. She’d sit by herself with her backpack full of coloring books she never opened, her eyes fixed on her father’s car, her hands clutching whatever part of the fence she could find. But with time, even she began to miss birthdays, school trips, and her mom’s tired eyes every time he called to say he’d be late again. The house got quieter. Her father’s voice over the phone got shorter. Until one day, there were no races to go to together anymore. Her parents sat them down and explained it softly, gently, saying things like distance, timing, still care for each other, but Berta was old enough to know the words under the words. It wasn’t the love that died. It was the life. Her dad found another family soon after, someone with fewer complications and no kids to drag around the country. Her mom, on the other hand, stayed. Took care of everything. Held the line. Quietly.

Berta didn’t hate either of them. Not really. But something broke in her when she realized even heroes could walk away when things got hard. She stopped going to races, but the sound of engines still made her heart race in that old way. She didn’t drive the same car her father did—never wanted to. She chose something older, humbler, something she could fix with her own hands when her nerves got bad. Her fingers still smelled like oil most days, and she kept a rag in her back pocket more often than not. Driving calmed her in a way nothing else did. Not yoga, not sleep, not therapy. Just the wheel under her hands, the road whispering beneath her tires, the engine’s rumble like a steady pulse in her chest. It wasn’t about winning for her. It was about remembering who she was before everything fell apart.

And now, with Abel—kind, thoughtful, a little closed-off but earnest in ways that broke her heart—she felt that same creeping fear again. The kind her mom used to carry in her silence. She loved Abel. God, she did. But part of her always held something back, afraid to fall too deep because what if one day she woke up and they were living the same story? What if the distance came again, in another form, slower, like a leak in the roof you didn’t notice until the ceiling collapsed? She didn’t want that. Didn’t want her life to split down the middle between what she loved and who she loved.

So she worked harder. At the gym. At her routines. At staying grounded. She tried not to ask too much of Abel. She told herself she didn’t need as much as her mom did, that she could be different. Stronger. But late at night, when the city got quiet and her hands were idle, she found herself gripping the steering wheel in the garage like it was a lifeline, her breath fogging up the windshield even in the summer. She’d sit in the driver’s seat with the door open, listening to the engine idle, and think about that day her dad won the race and came straight to her—before life got too complicated, before love got practical, before everything required so much balancing.

She didn’t want to become her mother, but she didn’t want to chase ghosts like her father either. And every time she looked at Abel—his careful hands, his tired eyes, his laugh like home—she prayed silently that they’d be better. That love could last without having to give up the things that made them who they were. That she could keep her hands on the wheel and his hand in hers.

She didn’t need him to come to every race. She just needed him to look at her the way her dad used to—like she was already flying, and he was proud just to watch her take off.

[abel-airhart]

Abel had never felt so powerless in his life. His fingers trembled against the cold metal railing, nails biting into rust, knuckles white as snow. He couldn’t stop staring. Not even for a breath. Every time the tires screamed, his whole body jolted—like the sound alone could reach into his chest and rip his insides loose. His stomach twisted with each turn, his breath held hostage as she disappeared behind clouds of smoke and came barreling out again like a bullet through chaos. First lap. He barely breathed. She looked good. She felt good—he could see it. Second lap—he felt like vomiting. She slipped. She dropped back. Someone passed her and his lungs clamped shut. She wasn’t in the lead anymore. He swore under his breath, mouth dry. “Come on, baby… come on.” And then came the last lap. Final chance. He saw the moment it happened. He could feel it from across the track like the air had changed and charged with her. When she clipped that bastard’s rear bumper and took the lead, Abel couldn’t even shout. His heart was in his ass. The moment she crossed the line—first place, fists already in the air—he launched over the barrier without thinking. He stumbled once on the asphalt, but his legs kept pumping. He had to get to her. People yelled and hollered behind him—security, the crowd, maybe even stewards. All he heard was the roaring echo of her victory and the high-pitched scream of tires fading into the distance. And then—just as her car screeched to a stop—bam, the other guy’s door slammed. Abel saw him: red car, tall, muscular, pissed off, pacing toward her with stormclouds in his eyes. He shouted. Abel was ten steps out, fast, cutting through the crowd like a bullet. She stepped out of her car slow, composed, shaking but proud, and Abel felt it in his chest like a second heartbeat. The guy slammed his hand on her car door. Berta didn’t flinch. Just smiled that razor-sharp smile of hers, walking around the door - confident, sexy and letting the guy eat his words. Abel was three steps away now. The red car driver stepped in, towering over her. He swore at her again. That stopped Abel cold. His ears rang. There it was. The word didn’t need to land for him to know exactly where that sentence was going. That old, rotting tone of condescension and aggression aimed straight at her. And the way Berta’s chin lifted at it—her jaw tightening, but her eyes daring him to finish it—Abel didn’t even see red. He became it. He shoved himself between them, chest to chest with the other driver, arm flung wide to block Berta without looking at her. “You want to finish that sentence?” Abel snapped, voice ice-cold and twice as deadly. “You lost. To a girl, yeah. To my girl. You wanna cry about it, do it on your own time. But talk to her like that again and I’ll make sure the next thing you’re fixing isn’t a bumper—it’s your fucking jaw.” The guy opened his mouth to speak, but Abel didn’t care. The guy tried to puff up, chin raising, but Abel shoved his chest—not hard enough to start a fight, but enough to make a damn point. A warning. “Don’t call my girl names or play with me,” he said, voice like stone—no shouting, no theatrics.

[bertarojas]

when berta said the only two things she needed to feel alive were abel and racing, it might’ve sounded dumb to some, but it was the truth—those were the only things that lit something in her. the way abel made her heart race kept her going, made the wait for him worth it every time he came back home, and when sadness clawed at her chest, racing pulled her out of it, made her feel the burn in her veins, the thrill in her hands, the rush that reminded her she was still breathing. she was a good driver—she knew it—but her nerves always hit when abel wasn’t at the front watching, guiding. even then, when she won despite slamming into someone else's car, she couldn’t care less. all that mattered was that she was gifting abel a brand-new car and they were driving home in it, together. stepping out with a smile on her face, the rush in her blood left no room for fear, not even when the man she beat stepped up, pissed and loud. “it’s not about thinking i can win, you just fucking lost,” she shot back, smirking like nothing he did could touch her. she didn’t notice abel approaching until he was right between them, shoulders squared, chest out. the man scoffed at abel, “maybe you can be the next one to cry, this isn’t your fight.” but as abel shoved him back, catching him off guard, berta didn’t flinch—she just smirked wider. “no, let him fucking threaten me, winning his car will be even sweeter,” she muttered, not even sure what she was saying anymore, adrenaline taking over. when the guy looked ready to lunge, she stepped in front of abel with fire in her eyes, “if i were you, i wouldn’t fucking dare—he’s in the army,” she warned proudly, then added, “vete a llorar a tu puta casa (go cry in your fucking house) ,” her grin sharp. before the man could react, the race official shoved past him, ripped the keys from his hand, and tossed them to berta. “you better go before i make you,” the official snapped. turning to abel, berta held up the keys with a grin. “this is for you—let’s fucking go, because if i say one more thing, i swear i’ll start a fight. i’m way too excited right now.”

[theroyalirenequeen]

"Wow, what a brilliant rule, remind me to enforce it next time you come over to my place," Irene teases back playfully. She laughed more at Bertas' remark about pregnancy. "Nope, no baby...yet." She giggled a little, it was a joke, but Irene was hiding something Berta didn't know, something that made this joke kind of the opposite of funny.

[bertarojas]

berta smiled at her sister's words. "oh, i won't plan on staying long enough so i don't have to do your chores," she joked, winking playfully at her sister. "that's great, i'm not prepared to be an aunty—i would be a really cool one, but i'm not prepared," she added, her tone light until her sister's words took a turn. her face shifted slightly as she caught the change. "'yet?'" her eyebrows raised. "am i missing something?"

[abel-airhart]

Abel wasn’t blind to the way Berta moved when she drove. It was the only time she looked weightless. Not carefree—because she never really was—but free. Her shoulders loosened, her jaw unclenched. And he understood, even if he hated what it meant. It meant the engine could give her peace when he couldn’t. That racing—the danger of it—gave her control over her own chaos in a way he couldn’t touch. But if that was what kept her from unraveling when he didn’t call, when he disappeared for months at a time for work, then how could he ever ask her to give it up? Still, it scared the hell out of him. Abel chuckled, soft and warm, eyes never leaving her. She had no idea. Or maybe she did and just needed to hear it anyway. “You're so hot,” he said, voice low but certain. “You look unstoppable.” Untouchable, in her element. Like the dust and speed belonged to her. But watching her from this seat wasn't that easy. When she told him to wait outside the car, he didn’t argue right away. He knew it wasn’t about pride or performance. It was protection. For him. She wasn’t scared for herself—he could see that—but for him, always him. And that’s what made it harder to accept. Still, when she looked at him with those eyes, asked with that quiet edge of worry that she always tried to hide behind a smile, he nodded. “Alright,” he said, voice tight with the weight of everything he wanted to say but wouldn’t. She needed calm. Not panic. So he gave her that. Abel swallowed hard, eyes locked on hers. “I know,” he said quietly. “I just don’t want to see the woman I love torn to pieces by a machine that doesn’t care about her.” His voice cracked at the edges despite himself. That was the truth. She could handle it. But that didn’t mean it wouldn’t kill him to see her try. “You think I’m the distraction when you’re the one behind the wheel breaking the laws of physics?” he asked softly. He was teasing, trying to meet her where she was, but the tension was still wound tight in him. He didn’t like waiting. But for her, he would. He nodded, even if everything in his body wanted to reach over, shut the engine off, and pull her out of the seat. “Just come back to me,” he said, low. “That’s all I care about.” As they pulled into the crowd, Abel’s jaw clenched. It was exactly like she described—loud, aggressive, chaos. When she stopped the car, and turned to him, Abel's heart thudded hard. Then she kissed him. Warm. Real. Final. He closed his eyes for half a second, like it hurt. “I love you more,” he whispered back. "And, this one is for good luck." He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and kissed her again. And then he did what he hated most. He got out. He lifted his hand and gave the roof of her car two light taps—a ritual, a prayer, a promise—then leaned forward just enough to meet her eyes one last time. With a small, crooked smile that didn’t reach his eyes, he brought his fingers to his lips and blew her a kiss. “Go wreck their egos, baby,” he murmured, too quiet for anyone else to hear. Then he stepped back. Every part of him screamed to stay close—to keep his hand on the door, to climb back in beside her, to do something—but he didn’t. He forced his feet to move, turned toward the crowd, and made his way to one of the steel barriers lining the makeshift track. The second he was among the others, the noise swallowed him whole. Engines roared. People jeered. Tires spun smoke into the air. But Abel heard none of it. His heart was beating so hard it felt like it was in his throat. He gripped the cold metal rail with both hands, knuckles going white. His eyes never left her car. And in the silence of his own mind, he started praying. Not the kind of rehearsed prayers you say before a meal, not the polite ones whispered in pews. These were raw. Begging. Desperate. Please, God. Keep her steady. Let her come back. Let her walk out of this with that fire in her eyes and a laugh on her lips. Let me hold her again. He didn’t care about the race. Didn’t care about the money, or the crowd, or the thrill.He just wanted her. Safe. Alive. His.

[bertarojas]

“you’re the distraction, i break the laws of physics quite often, but this time you’re here,” she said softly, “and i’m not trying to stop my mind from going to dark places, you’re here,” she blurted out, not even thinking. her words were true and raw. this time was different than all the other times, this time she walked to win and run to her boyfriend. “i will come back to you, i promise i will,” she mused, hands gripping the wheel tighter as she drove past the crowd—she wasn’t nervous, wasn’t scared of those people, she couldn’t help smiling. as she kissed him, she promised she’d return. that wasn’t their last kiss, it couldn’t be. “that’s not possible, abel,” she assured him, but then his hands wrapped around her neck and kissed her again, and she melted into it, lips to lips. this kiss felt different—he was worried, terrified even. berta had to fight back the tears trying to slip down her cheek. he opened the door and climbed out of her car. she smiled, not letting him see her mood shift. she noticed the way he gave the roof of the car two light taps like always. “i will,” she smiled. as the door closed, she made the engine roar louder, her hands shaking. she was going to do it, just like all the other times. she grabbed her fingerless gloves from the glove box and let out a breath. the girl closed her eyes, turned down the music, glanced at the barriers for a second, then looked back to the road. it was easy: three laps, and the one who crossed the finish line first won the other’s car. that afternoon, they were going home in different cars—berta was going to win one for abel. for a second, everything went quiet. she sighed. then the countdown started, her hands locked around the wheel. at zero, she launched forward. the engines roared, but berta just smiled. the cars shot forward like bullets, tires screaming on the asphalt. berta felt the jolt in her chest, body pressed into the seat, her heart synced with the rhythm of her roaring engine. the first lap flew by in seconds. she narrowed her eyes and clenched her jaw. the second lap hit harder. the red car was still ahead, way ahead. the driver was aggressive, cutting corners, using everything. berta pushed harder, nearly past the limit, but doubt hit—cold and sudden. her tires slipped, just slightly, and a car passed her. third place. her stomach dropped. she wasn’t going to lose. final lap. the crowd roared, but she wasn’t listening. she gritted her teeth, leaned in, gripped the wheel like she wanted to rip it from the dash. first turn—too hard. she skimmed the bumper of the blue car beside her, lost a mirror, but didn’t stop. the green car was ahead, so close to the line. she cut the next turn with everything she had, tires screaming. they were side by side. the green driver swerved to block her—wrong move. she didn’t pull back. she tapped his rear bumper—just enough. he lost control for half a second. that’s all she needed. berta surged forward, flew through the finish line, her fists up before she even braked. the crowd exploded behind her. she did it. she won. and she was going home—with his car for him. berta’s tires screeched to a stop just past the line, adrenaline still storming through her. her chest rose and fell, breathless. her hands stayed on the wheel like letting go would undo everything. she had done it. she won. but before she could even enjoy it, she heard a car door slam. “you crazy bitch!” she turned just as the red car’s driver stormed over—tall, built, furious. his helmet hit the ground. the crowd parted, laughing, watching. he slammed his hand on her door as she opened it. “you hit my damn bumper!” he barked, pointing to the dent. “you think you can win like that?” berta stepped out slowly, chin high, hands still slightly shaking. she looked him over and smirked. “i didn’t think, i did,” she said, walking around the door. “you shouldn’t have been in my way.” he stepped closer, trying to intimidate. “you think this is a joke? you’re just some pretty little—”

[abel-airhart]

Abel sat in the passenger seat, one hand bracing against the hanger as Berta weaved through the streets like she had something to prove. And maybe she did. He got it—racing was her thing. Her way of letting go, of shutting out the constant noise in her head. He respected it. But that didn’t mean it didn’t mess with his head a little. He wasn’t new to danger—his own job demanded a tolerance for chaos most people didn’t understand. But watching her flirt with it just to keep herself sane? That hit different. Made his chest tighten in a way he didn’t like to talk about. Still, the moment had a softness to it, underneath all the speed and adrenaline. The music humming low, the way she grinned over at him with that kind of energy that made everything else in the world fall away. She was reckless, sure, but she was also in control. Always had been. And he trusted her—probably more than anyone. That didn’t stop his stomach from flipping when she teased him. He gave her a look, deadpan. “Yeah, pure heartthrob energy over here,” he muttered, though the corners of his mouth twitched like he was holding back a grin. Still, he liked seeing her like this—hands on the wheel, eyes lit up, doing what she loved. It reminded him why he fell for her in the first place. That fire. That focus. But then she said it—soft, serious, and real. She asked him to wait outside the car while she raced. Abel’s jaw flexed. He looked at her, really looked at her. His eyes didn’t soften like they usually did when she got all heartfelt and mushy. Not this time. He could feel the warmth of her concern, her care—it wasn’t lost on him. But it still got under his skin. Not because she didn’t trust him. Because he was the one who should be shielding her from risk, not standing on the sidelines while she danced with it. “You think I like watching you throw yourself into danger just to feel okay?” he added, a little sharper than he meant to. “You don’t want to lose me, fine. But I don’t want to lose you either. Just be safe when you race today." He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before the light turned green. “But yeah… I’ll wait outside,” he said finally, quieter now, resigned. Then, with a reluctant smirk: “I’ll cheer loud enough to make the rest of ‘em jealous.” Even if it made his stomach turn. Even if the whole time she was on that track, his heart would be stuck in his throat. "I feel like I'm going to have a pit in my stomach the whole time. What if something happens? Shouldn't I be next to you? What if I'm not quick enough?" Those words of his - hit him in the chest. Because was this exactly how she felt every time he went to work? He reached out, hand covering hers where it rested near the gearshift, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "Do you medics and stewards there?"

[bertarojas]

berta had tried everything, from working to designing to watching television to reading. nothing shut off her mind like racing did. maybe it was because she couldn’t afford to worry when she was driving—her whole mind had to be on the road, no room to think about anything else. it was the only way to stop worrying about abel not calling. in that car, she could ignore the world, as sad as that was. sometimes being far from him, knowing he could be in danger, was too much to handle, and that car was the only thing that kept her from spiraling. "i hope i look and sound as hot as i imagine myself," she smiled, glancing at him for a second before focusing back on the road. she was enjoying that moment more than anything—the way she felt his gaze on her, how he made her feel amazing with just one look. and she was sharing it with the love of her life? she’d remember that forever. when she asked him to wait outside the car, it wasn’t about showing off—she didn’t want him hurt if anything went wrong. she didn’t think about herself in those moments, only abel. always abel. the road shifted to a dirt path and she slowed down, not wanting the little stones to chip the red paint on her car. at his words, her eyes watered. "you’re not going to lose me," she said softly. "i just want you to be safe. i’m not throwing myself into danger, i know how to drive in places like this." when he agreed to wait outside, she nodded. "thanks, abel," she whispered with a sad smile. at his sudden question, she felt her breath catch. "nothing is going to happen, i’ve never gotten into an accident," she said—that was a lie, she still remembered calling antonio after a crash when she couldn’t move her neck from the pain, but that wasn’t something she’d ever told abel. "no, you’re waiting outside, i’m finishing this, taking my money, and we’re having dinner out. you can’t be next to me, you’ll distract me," she added, trying to shift the conversation. when he asked again, she shook her head. "abel, it’s an illegal race, there’s nothing there but scary-looking people and cars," she admitted, "but i’m used to driving on sand, i’ll be fine, i swear." as they arrived, the crowd she’d warned him about came into view—some banged on the car, others cheered. she pulled up beside the other car, stopped, and turned to him. "this might sound like a goodbye, but it’s not, i just mean it..." she leaned in and kissed his lips. "i love you," she said, then smirked. "now get out of my car, princess."

[abel-airhart]

Abel leaned back slightly, his gaze shifting between Berta’s face and the road ahead as the tension lingered in the air. He thought back to saying goodbye to her - it was always the hardest part. He hated it—the way she clung to him, the way her eyes would water and her voice would crack when she begged him to stay. He never knew how to make it better for her, even if he wanted to. The fear that she held in every goodbye—of him not coming back, of losing him—it gripped him too. But right now, he didn’t want to dwell on that. He wouldn’t. They were together in this moment, and he couldn’t let her see how much the weight of their situation wore on him. She was already trying to hold it together. For him. Her teasing cut through the silence, pulling him out of his thoughts. Abel smirked, his fingers tightening around the hanger above the door, a playful challenge flickering in his eyes. “Trouble and you? Yeah, that’s a deadly combination,” he shot back, enjoying how effortlessly she kept things light, even when they both knew how heavy everything else was. There was something comforting about her teasing—something that helped him forget, even just for a second. When she mentioned speed being her therapy, he couldn't help but laugh softly. He knew that feeling well. Berta had always been the type to throw herself into the rush, to lose herself in something that made her forget about everything else. It was dangerous, sure, but it was also what kept her grounded in a way. Abel understood it, maybe more than anyone else. And watching her in this moment—so free, so alive—made him appreciate her even more. "You're insane," he teased with a grin, gripping the hanger a little tighter as they flew down the road, the world blurring past them. He wasn’t sure if she was trying to outrun her thoughts or just the world itself, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. He glanced at her, a laugh escaping him at her comment. "Cute? You’re the one making my heart race right now," he said, a playful edge to his voice, though there was a truth to it too. Seeing her like this, so alive in the moment, made everything else fade into the background. There was something beautiful about the way she could embrace the chaos. When she asked him to grab her phone, his attention shifted immediately. Abel reached over and grabbed it. "Got it," he said, using her face to quickly unlock the phone lock-screen. Abel’s fingers hovered over the phone for a moment, but something about the way the light hit Berta’s face made him pause. His gaze shifted, drawn to the curve of her jaw, the soft glow of her skin as the wind tousled her hair. There was something about seeing her from this angle, so close, so real, that made his heart skip. He didn’t get to see her like this often—caught in the middle of a moment, so free and beautiful. It hit him like a wave, the way she seemed to shine even when she wasn’t trying. He turned his head a little more, unable to stop himself from staring. Her eyes were focused on the road, but the way her lips moved when she spoke, the soft curve of her neck—it all had him mesmerised. He felt a small smile tug at the corner of his mouth. He hadn’t meant to stare this long, but he couldn't help it. She was stunning, and it was almost impossible to tear his eyes away. “Umm, take this next left, then a right, and then another right, and we should be there according to this,” he finally muttered, his voice a little softer than usual, still caught up in the way she looked. He quickly snapped his eyes back to the road, hoping she didn’t catch him. But he wasn’t entirely sure why he’d looked away. He was just lucky she couldn’t see the smile that played on his lips.

[bertarojas]

racing was the only way she could stop her mind from worrying about abel. his job wasn’t easy, in fact, it was one of the hardest jobs out there. she wished abel was an accountant or a teacher, that way she wouldn’t have to go through her day hoping she didn’t get a call. being on the other side of the line wasn’t easy, and it never would be. at least that little moment was something they were going to remember—the speed, their voices, the soft music playing in the background. “i am insane, you decided to date me in the first place, so it’s your fault,” she shrugged, a playful smile on her lips. the way he gripped the hanger a little tighter might’ve made most people slow down, but not her—she trusted her abilities. in fact, if she wasn’t already going slightly over the limit, she would’ve sped up just to see his face. “and i wish i could see your face right now, i bet you look so cute when you’re nervous,” she chuckled, glancing at him for a second. in that moment she was doing the thing she loved most with the person she loved most. it was perfect. when he agreed to guide her, she smiled. she saw abel holding her phone up to her face to unlock it and couldn’t help but chuckle. “sometimes i forget it doesn’t have a password anymore,” she nodded. her hands gripped the wheel tighter—she was loving getting to enjoy today with abel. she noticed abel looking at her, and even though her eyes were on the road, something told her he was watching her, and that made her nervous in the best way. as he started guiding her, she smiled. “i thought we were gonna keep staring at me,” she teased, sticking her tongue out at her boyfriend. “thanks baby,” she smiled before turning left. as she stopped at a red light, she turned to look at abel. “i’m happy you’re doing this with me,” she nodded, “but i’m gonna ask you to wait for me outside the car while i race. i’ve never crashed, but i don’t want you getting hurt, okay?” she said softly. “i can’t lose you over something reckless and stupid, okay?” berta added gently. “and i need a cheerleader, so people know they can’t mess with me.”

[theroyalirenequeen]

" Do your dishes?" Irena raised her eyebrow with an amused grin. " We are being awfully optimistic now aren't we Berta?" She teased her playfully. She could sense it in the look on Berta's face and the tone of her voice that Abel was a sore subject right now so she nodded her head and dismissed the whole subject, laughing a bit at Berta's baby question" Me? Pregnant? You know it takes two to get pregnant right?"

[bertarojas]

"no, of course, if you stay longer than eight hours you need to help at home, that's the rule" she joked, a playful grin tugging the corners of her lips. talking about abel when she hadn't known anything about him in so long made berta on edge, she didn't want to think about it or she would just mope around all day. "i mean, it normally takes two, but now you could just go to a clinic and ask for a baby, and you know, they get you pregnant" she suggested. "so... no baby?" she joked.

[abel-airhart]

Abel listened quietly, his gaze flickering to Berta as she spoke. He knew her well enough to understand the unspoken parts of her words, the way she kept her emotions in check, especially when it came to him leaving. He had seen it many times—her smile faltering the moment he was out of sight, the weight of goodbye settling in her chest. Abel always tried to make it easier, but there was no avoiding the reality. He squeezed her thigh gently, a quiet reassurance, knowing full well that Berta was stronger than she let on. She kept it together for him, never wanting him to feel guilty for the work that called him away. He chuckled softly at her teasing, the playful tone in her voice doing its usual magic to lighten the mood. "Ready as I'll ever be, Rojas," Abel replied with a grin, leaning into the feel of the engine's roar. He could see the spark in her eyes every time the car's engine came to life, and he loved it. He admired her passion for driving, the way she handled the car as if it were an extension of herself, moving with fluid precision. It always seemed to come naturally to her. As Berta commented on the busy road, Abel nodded, his eyes scanning the traffic ahead. "Maybe. Or they’re just out looking for trouble," he mused, catching the curious glances of those around them. He knew Berta wasn’t one to shy away from the attention, especially when it came to something she loved, like her car. "We’ll see if they can keep up." Abel’s smile softened, watching her, his thoughts momentarily drifting to their usual routine—always dynamic, always full of energy. But for now, they had the road, and that was enough. As Berta pressed the pedal further, the car surged forward, the engine growling like a beast unleashed. Abel instinctively reached up, gripping the hanger at the top of the car, his fingers curling tightly around it as the speed pushed them both deeper into the thrill of the ride. His heart raced along with the engine, the world around them blurring as they sliced through the road with effortless precision. He couldn’t help but grin, feeling the wind whip through the open windows, the force of their speed almost tangible. "You can really feel the speed, huh?"

[bertarojas]

there was no point in making abel feel bad about it. they both knew that berta cried whenever he left and she constantly begged him to stay with her. that wasn't something new, it had been happening since the moment they started dating, but there was no reason to make him feel bad about it just now, when they were supposed to have fun together. saying goodbye was never an easy task, in fact, berta hated saying goodbye to the love of her life, it wasn't as if he worked at an office where his work was simply something easy, there was the fear of him never coming back and the simple thought of it made her sick. she would keep herself collected for him. "oh, you're not ready at all, airhart" she joked, a smile tugging the corners of her lips. "oh, i love trouble, it's my second name" she joked, a smile on her lips. she loved danger, it was the only way she was able to stop thinking about her problems, it was getting inside that car and she was in a trance, she wasn't able to think about anything else, which had been the perfect therapy for her. at his playful words, she smiled back at him. "oh, i'll make sure they can't keep up" she nodded, a smile on her lips as she drove. being able to share that moment with abel was amazing, in fact, she was loving it way too much. the way abel gripped the hanger at the top of the car made her laugh, she just loved the speed, she couldn't help it. "you're so cute" she smiled, not being able to glance at him because of the speed, she wasn't going to take her eyes off the road. "the speed is my therapy, you can't even imagine how much i love this" she smiled. "can you get my phone and tell me where i need to turn next?"

[antrojastonio]

" I'm talking about laws, you're careless about laws" He mumbled but i seemed pointless to be arguing with her about that, there she was hurt after a car accident and he was nagging her about being careless." You mean nothing ever happened until now, you could take care of yourself but now you need my help and yet you refuse to let me help you, do you know how frustrating that is Berta? What's so bad about coming home with me? You don't want to be around me? like if I want to keep an eye on you why is that so bad? why do you have to refuse that? Your neck hurts, I want to help you and make sure my baby sister is okay. Can you really say that if the wheel was turned around, you wouldn't want to take care of me? You do know if you just leave then I won't sleep tonight right? You might not need to stay with me, but I need you to, for my sake"

[bertarojas]

berta knew she was. antonio could be worried, but in her mind, she wasn’t careless, and that wasn’t going to change her mind. there was no point in trying to convince her. she was stubborn enough not to listen. she didn’t know how frustrating it was for her brother, but if she was honest, it was frustrating because this shouldn’t have happened, and she just kept replaying the accident in her mind over and over. berta stood there, looking at him without being able to say anything. she sighed, looking away for a second—giving up. that was what she was doing. she could keep arguing with her brother about how she only needed him to drive her home, she’d sleep, and that would be it. but there was no point. “okay,” she sighed, “but you can’t tell this to abel.”