Mafially Yours

36

He looked up at me with his mouth closed and his eyes trying to stay open. He tilted his head and blinked a couple of times, still scanning my face as if he was unsure if I was really standing in front of him or if he was hallucinating.

"It's not deep, so it should stop bleeding in a couple of minutes," I added but he still didn't say anything. He simply turned back to stare into the void and took another sip of his bottle. "I think that's enough drinking, Huncho."

He frowned at me, rolled his eyes and took another sip, challenging me like a child. I let a long breath out and closed my eyes. I tried to free the bottle from his tight grip and I didn't want to be harsh on him. I sighed and looked around and wondered why is no one doing anything about this? I looked around on the floor at the many bottles again and inhaled. He raised the bottle to his lips again but before the liquid could hit his lips, I stopped the bottle and pulled at it.

"Let it go, Huncho?"

"You think I am a child you will take care of me?" He said, his voice piercing my ears.

"Huncho, look around you. This is too much alcohol."

"Are you yelling at me again?" He smirked and I paused. I didn't know if I should talk about what happened but keep it when he was sober but a part of me felt like he was that damaged because of my words from earlier.

"I'm sorry, Huncho, I know I shouldn't have said what I said. I really didn't mean it." I genuinely said. He started laughing, confusing me even more on what was inside the shell that was laughing in front of me. He paused and looked at me as if he was going to say something but he simply started laughing again. "What?" I asked.

"It's—it's funny." He shook his head.

"What's funny?"

"You think your words hurt me to the point that I'd be sitting alone at night on the pool drinking—" he motioned around him at the bottles on the ground.

"Fine," I crossed my legs and sat next to him, "tell me why are you drinking at night, alone on the pool then."

He looked at me, his eyes questioning what I was doing but he couldn't get an answer. He drank some more of his drink and looked away.

"I realized way late that maybe, in our life, it is better to forget how to love, to harden our hearts."

My heart dropped and my breath hitched. Many questions invaded my brain. Is he talking about me? Does he love me? Why would he rather forget how to love? Is he conscious of what he is saying or is he too drunk to know?

I couldn't find words to answer so I stayed silent, wanting him to speak some more.

"You know every time any of us loves someone they end up losing them and it hurts like s**t!" He hiccuped once before drinking more of the bottle in his hand.

I opened my mouth to tell him that it's not true, that if he told me he loved me I won't leave him, I won't hurt him, I won't have the heart to break someone I loved too. But I didn't have time.

"Brad was my everything!" He threw his hands in the air. I felt like he threw my heart on the ground and stepped on it over and over again until it died. I gulped, trying to swallow my pain. "He was my father, my brother, my friend," he shook his head, "and somehow just like that," he snapped with his finger, "he's gone."

I looked away, hating being in this situation. I was glad I kept my mouth shut but everything in me was crying because for just a few seconds, I admit to myself and was willing to admit to him that I liked him, that I wanted to be with him.

"He was such a great man, a smart man too," he nodded. It was so much easier with him." He sighed and I closed my eyes, wishing I could go back in time and didn't say anything. "Right?" He looked at me, his eyes so tired and sad. I nodded.

"He was also a great father. He was never able to tell me no. He was willing to do anything to make me smile."

He smiled at my words and nodded, as if he knew what I was talking about. But his smile was long gone when he remembered he was gone. I took a deep breath and looked up, wishing to see him again. I wished I had more time with him to appreciate him more, appreciate him the way he deserved to be.

"He formed us from scratch. He met Damien, hitting a man and killing him. He met Marco crying in the corner of the street. He met Sanchez looking for food in the garbage. He saw Fred getting kicked out by his sister and met him wandering around with nowhere to go." He paused and smiled. "When he found me, I was a little broken kid who was losing his little brother to hunger." He started erratically blinking as if the more blinks he did, the more he could remember. "He saw me go in a supermarket and steal food and run away. He liked me and called me over. He said "little kid, come here"," Huncho laughed, remembering the scene he was telling me, "I went to see him, wishing he was giving me money. He asked me if I wanted to work with him, do the same things I did in the supermarket but more dangerous, more serious but we will gain so much money together. At first I didn't know what to say but–" he paused and winced. I tilted my head, not understanding why he stopped talking. "I saw my brother fall in front of me. He wasn't moving. Brad took him in his arms and drove us to the closest hospital," he closed his eyes as he was reliving the scene again. My heart was breaking at the thought of a little boy losing his brother to starvation. I had nothing to say so I stayed quiet. I placed my hand on his shoulder and he softly startled at my touch. I took my hand off for a second and placed it again. When he looked at me, his eyes were wet but he was holding back his tears. I saw his chest rise and fall quicker than normal and his chin twitching. He was doing everything to not show that he wanted to cry but I know that inside, he was slowly breaking into million pieces.

"Maybe it's true, I can't take care of his legacy. I wasn't ready to hold everything in a blink of an eye," he sniffed but I couldn't see his eyes to be sure he was crying. He kept his eyes focused in front of him. "Maybe you're right," he mumbled, breaking my heart even more.

"No Huncho, I was just mad. You're doing a great job! You're clever, were able to protect us from Fox and were able to protect the SP, and were able to know who stole them. You are doing so good, Huncho, I just—" I shook my head and looked away. I didn't know that just a few words could play with someone's head to that point. I held his chin and turned his face to look at me, his eyes were turning red, still refusing to cry. "You know Brad would be proud of you."

His head was moving around, too heavy for him to hold it up. It was hard for him to keep his eyes open and his blinks became longer. His gaze fixed my lips and it was getting harder for me to breathe. He let one tear fall as he closed his eyes and leaned closer to my lips. The closer his lips got to mine, the faster my heart beat. But something in me was yelling at me that it was wrong to kiss when he was that vulnerable. But the other part of me wanted him to kiss me.

As soon as his warm lips brushed against mine, I got up. My whole body was shaking as if every bone in me was yelling at me for this.

"Let's get you to your room."

I regretted this for the rest of the night. I brought him to his bed, and as soon as his head touched the pillow he was long asleep. I stared at my ceiling for hours, frustrated of what I've done. I groaned and rolled on my side, not thinking of anything other than the second his lips laid on mine.