“what else were tabletops made for if not to dance on?” her nose crinkles slightly as she grins over at mateo, her focus honing in as she unconsciously leans towards him “besides i would have mostly kept it PG”
she’s hyper aware that she’s almost ridiculously too far gone for the guy and its not just because he’s saved her life one too many times to count - at this stage the playing field is pretty even in that regards - or because his smile makes her want to do dangerously stupid shit like gush about his cheek bones or worse… introduce him to her sister.
“’teo, you know i’m safe here right?” she’d spent her formative years as a fixture in a seedy small town bar not unlike the very one they were currently sitting in “no ones gonna start anything inside the gates and risk getting booted out.”
this wasn’t mateo’s scene though, she knew that, he’d never feel quite at home the same way she did with the smell of stale beer and the aura of shattered dreams and if he wasn’t enjoying himself (and despite his easy grin she knew he wasn’t) then she wasn’t either.
“come on.” checking to make sure the bartender was otherwise occupied she reached over the countertop and pilfered the first non-descript bottle of liquor her hand brushed against, reaching for mateo’s hand as she slid off her stool, fingers lacing together as she pulls him behind her "we’ll swing by home first but there’s an empty field out near the wheat crops. you can teach me how to shoot that weapon of yours while i’m still relatively sober enough not to suck at it.“
knowing that they’re technically safe within these walls doesn’t make it any easier for mateo to let his guard down. but even the oldest habits can be broken eventually, and if these past few months have taught him anything it’s that colette is the exception to everything he’s even known about himself. his fingers intertwine with hers easily, and his world goes quiet finally, narrowing down to the two of them and the warmth of her hand in his.
‘ you’re so bossy, ’ he says, but the smile on his face finally reaches his eyes and there is nothing but fondness in his voice. despite the accusation, he lets her pull him out of the bar, and even though the summer air in georgia is no less stifling than a bar filled with people, mateo finds that he breathes a little easier.
the walk home—and mateo tries not to think too hard about the fact that he thinks of it as home too—is quiet, and perhaps its that quiet comfort shrouded by the shadows of dusk that makes it easier for him to be honest. ‘ you scared me today, y’know? ’ her supply run group had been delayed that afternoon, and although he had known it was irrational, mateo couldn’t shake off the fear and anxiety that crept up on him with every minute that ticked by.
it hadn’t helped that she’d been covered in blood on arrival, and he can’t remember the last time he’d ever felt such pure, unadulterated panic. even after she’d told him that the blood wasn’t hers, even now hours after knowing she’s back here with him and safe, he can’t seem to shake off the fear that if he looked away for just a second too long she might disappear.
he squeezes her fingers lightly, hopes that she hears the words that he’s left unsaid: i can’t lose you. maybe it’s co-dependency, maybe it’s something else entirely, but mateo’s not quite ready to find out which it is just yet, because acknowledging it means that it’s real, which will only make it hurt all the more when it ends. boys who kill their fathers don’t deserve happily ever afters, so all he can do is steal these small moments of intimacy and pretend that he doesn’t want more.
2087
titsay
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stormborns
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