this love came back to me
pairing: oscar diaz x reader
warnings: idk man, angst, and it's really short sorry. lowkey gotta test the waters
You hadn’t walked these streets in years, but somehow your feet still knew the cracks in the pavement.
Freeridge was smaller than you remembered—or maybe your world had just gotten bigger. The years away had been filled with new cities, new faces, clean breaks and new opportunities. But no matter how far you ran, the ghosts of your past had a way of following you home. Especially the one with deep brown eyes and a crooked smile that once held all your secrets.
Now, you were back. Not because you wanted to be, but because life had a funny way of circling back when you least expected it. A teaching position had opened up at a new dance academy on the edge of town, and you'd said yes before your brain could remind you of all the reasons you shouldn’t.
You hadn’t seen Oscar Diaz, or Spooky, as many had come to know him, in ten years—four if you counted from when he got out. But the last real memory you had of him was sharp and ugly, carved with words that never should’ve been said.
“You really thought I cared about you like that? Don’t flatter yourself, Y/N. You were just a warm body.”
You had cried for weeks. You couldn't believe the boy you had come to know as your best friend, and had trusted with something you considered so important, would reduce you to “just a warm body”. So naturally, you packed your bags and left Freeridge like it was burning behind you.
You stepped out of the corner store, holding a bottle of water and a small pack of gum, only to freeze as you nearly collided with someone walking in.
Tall. Warm skin. A gold chain with a distinctive cross in the middle catching the sun. Tattoos peeking out from under a black chef’s jacket. Your heart stopped when you realized who it was.
For a second, time folded in on itself.
His eyes locked onto yours, and something flickered across his face—shock, then softness, then guilt so raw it made your throat tighten. He opened his mouth to speak, but you stepped aside, brushing past him without a word.
You made it halfway down the block before you realized your hands were shaking.
Inside the store, Oscar stood frozen, heart pounding harder than it had in years.
He hadn’t just imagined you. It wasn’t a dream. You were really here—same piercing stare, same Y/H/C curls pulled back into a loose bun. Older now. Stronger somehow. Like life had tried to bend you and failed.
He hadn’t expected to see you like this—no warning, no buildup. One second he was coming in to grab a bottle of Topo Chico before work, and the next you were there, standing in front of him like a memory he never stopped needing.
He wanted to chase after you. To explain. To make the most of the opportunity and tell you that every word he said back then was a lie meant to protect you. That he’d hated himself for it every damn day in prison. That you were the one thing he thought about when everything else went dark.
But you hadn’t even looked at him. Not really. Just that cold flicker of recognition, then nothing.
He swallowed hard, forcing himself to breathe.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. He was supposed to find you when he had the right words. When he was more than just a ghost from you past. But fate didn’t wait for perfect timing.
You were back, su estrellita. And he'd be damned if he let you slip away again.
