i borrowed @nlarz‘s angelo to write some chargestep. no spoilers, just soft and tender like mashed potato.
You don’t like how the quiet stretches between the two of you. Press your fingers into the metal of the counter, and Ricardo is humming next to you, working the coffee machine. Perhaps you should make a comment, about how he shouldn’t be trusted near fine machinery. A jab, keep things light.
Remember the good ol’ days, of just you and him and the words between. But you bite your lip, stare at your feet. Squeeze until your knuckles turned white and you. Need to breathe.
“Earth to Angelo?”
It’s the emphasis, that part of your name, that has you turn your eyes up. Find him, smiling at you, two cups in his hands. What you assume would be yours is significantly lighter, just like how it used to be. Take it, set it aside. Keep skimming the edges here.
Ricardo is all careful sips and you know he’s watching you. If only you could read him, but those are long gone thoughts and you push yourself up, fold your arms across your chest, no wait, unfold, behind your back. Grip the counter once more.
Feel the weight on your tongue, as you catch his eye once more. Hold him. Right there, how he sits on the table. Coffee abandoned, beside him. “Angelo?”
It’s the way he whispers your name. Reverent. Like he tastes it on the tip of his tongue and how his eyes slip, just a little. Find the little nooks and crannies of your face and neck, before hovering. Holding. You need to move one step forward. Another.
Until you could stand between his knees. You don’t, because you’re… scared. Are you? Are you really? Or have you resigned yourself to what happens next. That all this dancing around, denying and playing and feeling the ghost of his hand in yours, only yesterday, tugging you along.
You want to go back. You want to move forward. Worry your lip with your teeth and find that spot, corner of his mouth, to stare. Where the lightest dimple forms and focus.
Should we talk? Come on, Angelo, you can get the words out. Say it. You need to say it. Hover your hand over his knee, and you. Take a step back. Remember the conversation. Remember the way, his eyes had dropped, when the conversation had hit that point, stop. Where you hadn’t recovered fast enough, and Ricardo closed up a little. Smile not reaching his eyes.
“Ricardo…” Twist your hands in front of you, flex, relax, on your hips. “About the other day.”
“It’s okay, ‘Lo,” and he shortens and snips your name. So easy. Like it had once been. “I get it.”
“No, you don’t.” Shake your head, control. Get the conversation flowing. “When you were talking about o-other people.” Look up now. Watch how his face tightens.
“I understand—”
“It’s only been you.”
Voice strong, and you don’t stammer. If your knees weren’t shaking, you might’ve been able to stand tall and strong. Shover your hands under your armpits now, hide the way they were unable to stop too. Dare a look up at Ricardo’s eye? Of course.
You don’t know what you were expecting.
He’s watery. You can only watch, how he bites his lip, chewing, but there’s a flush rising on his cheeks and. Ricardo blinks too fast. Watch the trail down his cheek. “You.” Swallows, hard. Presses the heel of his palm against his eye.
Ricardo smiles. Deep and strong and he sobs out a laugh. “I thought.”
Flounder, and you close that gap once more. Hover. Hold. “I’m sorry. I didn’t. When I stopped the other day, I didn’t mean to—”
“No, hang on, let me,” Ricardo breathes, deep. Strong. Watery smile and it’s so bright, so real. It’s him. “Me too.”
The little half gasp that leaves him, as you hug him, that’s what gets you. What has you bury your face into the crook of his neck. Ricardo holds you so tight, you feel the air being squeezed out. But that’s okay. It’s all okay. For one whole moment, you could stand like this, feeling safe and warm. With him.
just jude edition bc im gonna answer 13. for chris in another ask ✨
13. What gets them flustered
i cannot imagine this man getting flustered. its just impossible ahkjdkjdfhggh HOWEVER he gets mushy and all soft when one of the approx. five ppl he cares about are sad or doubt themselves. once their spirit is uplifted again he’s back on his teasing bs and soft times are over
16. Dark secrets/’skeletons in the closet’
well, not so dark (it’s his vice after all) but he's a serious alcoholic. he also is very scared of needles and electricity (not bc of ortega... farm lore ahoy)
