TAKING COMMISSIONS!!! 25 Animal Portrait, Free Shipping, Available On My Etsy: PaintingsByBronagh

TAKING COMMISSIONS!!! £25 animal portrait, free shipping, available on my Etsy: PaintingsByBronagh

(Also a giveaway of one for free on my art insta of the same name)

Ooooo amazing!!! this chapter was so cute and almost made Lalo seem normal lol. I can’t wait to see how the reader reacts if she ever finds out what Lalo really does. Hopefully she will accompany Lalo back to Mexico when he goes 🫣. (Also hopefully nacho won’t snake him and try to get him killed bc I loved them together despite how much nacho hated him 😭)

SHADES OF COOL: Part III

Part Three: La Familia es todo

previously chapters: 1 2

finally, chapter 3 as promised!! I hope you guys enjoy, i need to actually start planning the chapters but... this one is kinda cute at points, lots of fluff... for now!!!

Word Count: 6.5k (oooof they're getting longer haha)

WARNING: Mentions of stalking, parents arguing, Hector being a weird uncle that likes to dunk his nephews underwater... the usual

Friday: 

Your (first person) POV: 

“Are you alright?”

My coworker, Jen, taps me on the shoulder. Her manicured nails are all I can focus on for a few seconds, yet I manage to shake it off and nod before going back to what I’d been doing- staring blankly at my shoes, cigarette between my fingers. 

“Yeah, I guess, just thinking”

Just thinking. A half lie, in retrospect. Over the last few nights, I’ve been unable to sleep- someone somewhere has taken it upon themselves to call at random, going out of their way to make me panic. The idea that the calls are coming from a couple of middle schoolers crossed my mind, yet there was no way for any children to access my number. There wasn’t a pattern or reason for the silence on the other end of the call either, it seemed. I haven’t told anyone about the strange phone calls, not yet, anyway.

As a small child, teachers had told my parents that I was an ‘overthinker,’ and for a while, I figured that was a good thing. Overthinking in itself couldn’t possibly be harmful, In what world would thinking lead to any kind of misfortune? All the grown-ups told you to think about all sorts of things: maths, English, whether or not to say please and thank you. The sky was the limit, supposedly. Now, after twenty-two years I've come to terms with the fact that everything they’d ever said about overthinking being positive, was just bullshit.

“Well, seems like you’re thinking a lot, anything in particular?” Jen leans in like she’s expecting some sort of catastrophic news, something to give the day a bit of a buzz.

In New Mexican daylight, the cloud of smoke that’d left my lungs looked more like steam as I laughed, awkwardly, yet in a way I knew wouldn’t upset her, “no, it's nothing” a lie. “Just getting ahead of myself I guess”

Her lips formed an O as she nodded, eyes wide and arms now folded tight across her chest, “is it a boy?” god, ‘boys.’ why not ‘men’, Jenny? I’m only a year younger than you, for fuck sake. 

“No no no no” she quirked a brow, my cheeks began to grow hot and the sun’s brilliant UV rays hadn’t helped make it any less obvious despite the lies and attempts to hide the truth.

Ever since that meal at El Michocano, we’d talked constantly - or whenever either of us was available - and it felt fantastic. Supposedly, Lalo wasn’t going to be in Albuquerque for long and was only here to ensure things ‘up north’ was running smoothly, to check whether or not Hector’s guys had the restaurant in good shape. Though whenever driving home, past the eatery, I had to hold back the urge to park up, walk in and say hi. 

“Alright,” Jen hummed, stubbing out her cigarette as I did. 

-------------

It’d gotten to noon, and the lukewarm coffee in my mug had barely managed to keep me sitting upright behind the front desk as I thought about all the other more interesting things I could be doing. Whoever had taken last night's shift had left me to file the doctor's notices. The ones that tell us what medications a person takes and when they should take them. The files changed whenever a medical review was conducted, which means they have to be updated semi-regularly. 

I don’t mind office work, usually, if it has variety. The hours go by and feel like days, the days feel like months and months, years. Which doesn’t help.

I’d rather be on my feet doing something right now. Whenever I have a moment to myself, I drift off only to be woken again by the shuffling of papers or the ring of the phone. I want to cry out of frustration, but thankfully there are only 30 minutes left before someone else takes over.

------------

GENERAL POV:  

You work for the 30, sorting through the documentation, signing visitors in, and asking how they are to be polite. Not only because the lack of conversation makes the already ear-piercing silence louder, but because you can’t help but feel a tad lonely. You’d much rather be getting the dinners ready in the kitchen with the others, yet, you were always the one left to suffer until the clock chimed. 

At half twelve you get up, take your things and head to the staff room; grabbing a flask from your locker that you then fill with fresh warm coffee. Straight, black, with no creamer but a touch of sugar to rid the drink of it’s initial bitterness. As you sit on the couch, by the window, you almost feel at peace. You look out at the cloudless blue sky, hills in the distance and debate whether you should go on a walk later, once you’ve rested up.

You decide against it, instead choosing to drink your coffee and play ‘snake’ on your flip phone. Lalo hadn’t messaged you for a few days, you figured he was busy and hadn’t let the fact he was quiet phase you at all. Though, you were beginning to miss him the tiniest bit. Outside of work you’d only ever interact with a few close friends and the few family members you had left living locally. Grandma and Grandpa often invited you over for dinners, asking how everything at work had been and if there was anything interesting going on in your life; you always gave the same answer. Despite the love you had for your job, the regularity and routine were repetitive and you had actually mentioned it to the higher-ups to see if they could do anything about it. They hadn’t gotten back to you yet, a message in its own right. 

Your breaks were an hour long, yet you wished for longer as without realising you’d again fallen asleep where you sat- much to the dismay of a few coworkers that stood by the countertops. 

“Jesus, she looks like shit” 

“Maybe she’s on something, doped up like Ms Smith was a few days ago… that’d be fuckin’ ironic, don’t you think?”

A laugh came from the side of the room, you stir, and the phone in your lap fell to the floor. 

“I don't think you know what the word ‘irony’ means and how to use it… I think you just mean funny.”

By the time the break was over, and one of the workers manages to rouse you from your slumber, your coffee had been reduced to dishwater. You yawned, placing the mug down on the short-legged table a few feet away from where you sat. Straightening out your uniform, you smile faintly, remembering that fortunately, your time at the desk was up for today… no one liked desk duty unless Marjorie had organized the files overnight.

You reach to pick up the flip phone and head out into the common area where residents sit on either couches, loveseats or regular chairs. Most of them were doing their own thing, knitting was (of course) popular alongside reading, yet idle conversation flowed aplenty. Personally, you liked to read and watch tv, or maybe supervise the occasional card game. 

“Good Afternoon, Hector” you nod in his direction, smiling as his dark eyes follow you across the room. You decide to sit with Pearl and Lola, two women that often stuck to themselves- hardly letting strangers into conversations. 

“You know, Pearly, it’d be a lot easier to- ”

The old woman looks up, blue eyes wide as a grin crosses her cheeks. She motions for you to sit, and you oblige willingly. “Afternoon, ladies” you look at what they’re doing, knitting squares for a blanket of some sort, one where all the different patterns will be joined together upon completion.

“Afternoon, dear” 

You nod, pulling back a chair and carefully sitting, grabbing a ball of yarn and some knitting needles from a plastic wallet. Your grandma had taught you how to knit, she’d sit with you as a child on her lap and instruct with her soft-spoken voice. The memory warmed you, you wished to go back to a time like that. When nothing really mattered and everything was trivial. Your childhood felt rushed compared to that of your peers, with your parents constantly arguing it was hard not to grow up earlier than others. Most of your classmates had normal lives, with normal parents that loved each other. Sure, they fought but from what you gathered the arguments would only last an hour or so, whereby they’d apologize and make up. In your head, you wondered why you’d never been able to have that, what you could’ve possibly done to deserve such a rough childhood. Grandma said that it hadn’t anything to do with you, though on occasion it sure felt like it. 

“Sweetie, are you alright?” Pearl's hoarse voice breaks you from your memory, and you nod again. 

“Yeah, just thinking is’ all… memories and all that” you smile at the old lady who returns the gesture, her hands moving quickly, knitting perfectly without even having to look down for a second to see what was going on. 

------------

Simon (the man who was currently working the front desk)  calls your name, and you look up at him now standing beside you. At this point, you’d managed to make a start on a decent enough scarf - One to fit a toddler perhaps- and get into a rhythm similar to that of Pearl and Lola’s.

“Yeah?” Your lips curve up sweetly at the man, now feeling more awake than you had earlier. He swallows thickly, his right hand in his pocket as the left cups the nape of his neck. A bead of sweat falls from his brow, and you subconsciously tilt your head to the side as it does. 

“There’s a man here to see you, Lalo Salamanca, I think he’s related to Hector” 

You scoff, “well no, Sherlock, he’s related to the other Hector Salamanca that lives here” 

Pearl grimaces and Lola simply purses her lips together as if she’d just placed a sour candy in her mouth. Simon's brow furrows and his posture stiffens, he’s standing taller than he had been and his left hand had dropped to the side. You laugh, quietly, so as to not disturb anyone else in the room. 

“I’m only kidding, Si’, I’ll be right out” 

The man nods, still looking rather uncomfortable as he shuffles out of the room and into the lobby. Pearl and Lola chat with one another as you begin to pack everything you’ve used up. “Take care of that for me, ladies. I’ll finish it later on once I’m done outside” 

Pearl acknowledged your request with a wave of her hand, Lola busying herself with a row she’d accidentally messed up. 

Now halfway across the room, you stop by a window to straighten out your outfit and brush your fingers through your hair. You’d undoubtedly look more worn than the last time you’d seen him in person, probably a little older because of that. Fucking private line calls. 

Just… smile, you tell yourself over and over again.

Stepping out into the hall, you clasp your hands together “Mr Salamanca, a pleasure to see you again”. You hated formalities as much as the next person, but you’d get a hit to the nose if someone were to hear you addressing a resident's family member so casually. You weren’t sure why that was a rule, perhaps because some could interpret that as special treatment, whilst others may just deem it inappropriate considering. 

He opens out his arms dramatically, calling your name “been a while hm? I thought something had happened to my favourite worker.” You chuckle under your breath, nervously, as Simon awkwardly shuffles behind the desk watching your interaction. 

“It has I’m afraid, I’ve been busy” that was a half lie, though you imagined he could simply infer that based on how tired you looked compared to the last time you’d spoken. “Family stuff as well, you know how it is haha…” that part was true, your mother had been visiting a lot more recently and she’d made a fuss about it, talking about your father and how he’d been drinking himself into an almost comatose state. She was being theatrical, as always. Your dad didn't drink that much, though you knew he'd been going to the local bar more frequently, you had a school friend that worked there. 

Lalo nods, knowingly, as if he's aware “Aye, but it's good you're there for them” you shrug, picking at your sleeves as your cheeks grow warmer. You wished Simon would just sit and get back to work. Why did he have to stand like an idiot? “La Familia es todo, no?”

You nod, your hands now clasped at your front, it was nice to see him- he looked gorgeous, the cotton sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows. You loved how flamboyant his clothes were. “That's right”, he grins and slaps a hand on the desk countertop, making Simon jump.

“Anyway, are you on your break yet? I think we should go out somewhere right now”

You swallow and glance around, fingers running through your hair as Lalo waits for an answer. Simon shuffles again before sitting down, getting back to whatever he had been doing before lalo entered. “I- wait a second” you press a hand to his arm and usher him to a vacant hallway, far enough from the desk so Simon wouldn't hear.

“I had my break about an hour ago, aren’t you here to see your uncle?”

At your question, he laughs whilst brushing some of your hair back with his hand. His smile was so… adorable. Whenever his dark eyes slightly scrunched and his cheeks lifted you wanted to just pinch them hard. “Bebita, I visited my uncle yesterday, you must’ve been on a break then… I would’ve said hi, but..” he sighed, you couldn’t help but watch his chest as it rose and fell, “work, it’s a pain in the neck but I’m heading home soon and quite a few things have happened since we last saw each other..” he looks down at his feet for a split second, as if he were thinking. For an instant, you have the urge to reach out and take his hand in your own. 

You go to open your lips to speak, but he cuts you off enthusiastically in a breath. “so, I figured I'd give myself the day off, and have Nachito man the ship for a few hours without me!”

“So… you want me to hang out with you today while you’re on your day off?”

“Exactamente, mi Amor, how long is the remainder of your shift?” he touches your shoulder, and you feel the rough texture of his palm through your linen work blouse. 

“Well, I finish at 9:30 tonight… I’m taking over a friend’s shift” Jen, as always, was going partying with her boyfriend- asking, no, pleading with you to take over the few hours she’d miss.

“I’m sure you can skip this one, besides, you won’t get into trouble for leaving a shift that isn’t yours, right?”

You shrug, unsure. What he says makes sense, you really had stuck your neck out for Jennifer again- no one would notice if you left, right? You could talk to Simon about it if he had a problem, though based on how he’d acted around Lalo you doubt that he will say anything. 

“I guess… I haven’t got any other clothes but these, though”

Lalo hums, “That doesn’t matter, Princesa, we’re not going anywhere special tonight”

You blush, wondering what on earth he meant by that. Did he mean there’d be other nights out? Or was he just talking generally? The silence between you is broken by him, as he begins to walk toward the exit.

“Wait, i-” you flush, straightening out your hair “can you wait for me outside? I’m gonna go grab my things from the break room”

Lalo chuckles and nods, lips pursed together tight as you pace into the staff room, making a b-line toward your locker.

You don’t have much with you- a shoulder bag and a knee-length trench coat. In your bag, you kept all the necessities, though always managed to cram a book in there for good measure. Unfortunately,  the count of monte Cristo took up most of the room, though it was invigorating and despite the added strain to your shoulder you didn’t mind carrying it with you.

You slipped into your jacket, letting it swing open as you quickly combed your hair and applied strawberry-flavoured lip balm. Once ready, you checked the time on your phone and walked back out into the hallway, shoes thumping against the tiles. Simon looked up as you pulled the door, clearing his throat.

“Oh- could you sign me out at 6:30 tonight, Si? I’ll buy you breakfast on Monday if you like. eggs and bacon from Loyola’s, right?” practically out of breath, your lips curve up when you smile at him warmly, lashes fluttering as he nodded. 

“Thanks a bunch!” the warmth of your cheeks leaves as you rush outside, eyes scanning the parking lot, before eventually landing on Lalo. He was leaning against the passenger side, his left arm slung across the side of the car’s roof, his right close to his front as he glanced down at his phone.

You try your best to hold back the foolish smile that’d been begging to tug at either corner of your lips for the last few seconds, and make a few quick steps toward him, hands behind your back once you meet his side. 

“Hello, miss me?” you teased, poking his shoulder. He shrugged his broad shoulders and smirked, stepping aside.

“Like a desert misses the rain”

You laugh a little, clutching the worn leather strap of your bag as he opens the door, motioning for you to enter with his tattooed arm. “ after you”

Sliding inside, you roll your back against the leather seat, wishing your car was as comfortable as this. Lalo makes his way around the front once you’re buckled up, pulling himself into the driver's side. You glance his way, staring for a moment, watching as he snakes the seat belt across his body. The way his biceps contract and relax, and his shirt tightens around the muscle-

“You know, it’s rude to stare, right?” 

You look away, down at your knees as he laughs, the engine purrs to life and the sound of upbeat Latin music reverberates against the metal frame, which he then turns down a tad.

“I-” you hesitate, picking at loose threads on your shirt, “I don’t know what you’re talking about” 

He huffs, pointedly at your discomfiture, as he begins to reverse from his spot. You redden when he places an arm against the back of your seat, pivoting his torso to look through the rearview.

“I’ll have to come back later to pick up my car, you know…”

He smiles down at you, faintly. “Don’t worry about it, you don’t work weekends, right?”

“Well, no, but I might need my car tomorrow…”

Lalo hums and you keep your eyes pinned on him, though occasionally look out past the windscreen “I’ll come with you to pick it up” he glances over your frame as you move against the seat, knees pointing in his direction as your small hands trace across the leather’s texture. “Alright, that sounds alright”

------------

The car ride is reasonably peaceful, the sound of the music drones as you perch your elbow on the window frame and lean against your palm. You tap your feet along to the music, loving the rhythmic quality. It made you want to dance.

Lalo took notice at a red light, smiling to himself as you continued to pat your foot against the interior carpet, your fingers now drumming against your leg to the beat. It looked like you were playing an invisible piano. “Like the music then, Princesa?”

You turn to face him, eyes half-lidded. The low vibration of the car had slowly been lulling you, the fatigue from earlier caught up. “Yeah, it’s nice… hey, can we go for a walk in the park and get some ice cream?” you’d been craving the sweet treat since last night, when you’d actually been in a similar position to now, driving home past a small ice cream shop you adored as a kid.

He furrowed his brows, hitting his fingers against the car wheel as you leaned in without realising; he hadn’t actually made a plan of where to take you, he didn’t really know many good places around here, only the ones Ignacio had recommended. “Sure, what park?”

“There's a nice park a few minutes from here- it has a lot of well-kept flowerbeds and a pond”

“Wow” he draws out the word, “sounds like a… pretty average park, querida”

You frown, digging through your bag to whip out your flip phone, “it's nice, you probably haven’t been there yet is all.” he stops for a moment, dark eyes meeting your own as he scoffs, playfully.

“I’m only playing, querida.” his voice is low, and his accent lingers on his words as he speaks. You love it, he’s gorgeous and you don’t think you’ve ever been in the presence of a man as perfect as him. 

You scowl, brows creasing as your hands move to place your phone back in your bag, he matches your stare and your smile. Laughing, he continues to drive much to the delight of the man sitting behind his Chevy Monte Carlo. 

“This almost seems too good to be true” you whisper to yourself, still leaning against the edge of the window as Lalo pulls next to the park, the green gate framing it lined with bunting and art projects kids from the local schools had made. 

Back when you started working at casa tranquila you’d come here at the end of the day and take a walk around the small pond. You weren’t sure why you did, you could’ve just driven straight home, but you didn’t.

You’re pulled from the memory by Lalo when he swings the door open and steps out, the sound of gravel crunching beneath his feet leads you to unhook your belt and smile as he rounds to your side.

The older man reaches out for you to take his hand and you do with as much grace as you’re able to muster up. “Thanks, I've been a bit… tired lately”

He quirks a brow and you huff, straightening out your outfit and tucking your locks behind your ear as he pries “tired? Work got you busier than usual I’m guessing?” he places a hand against the small of your back, leading you through the entrance. You hardly notice his touch at first, thinking it’d just been the breeze, but when you do, your cheeks warm and the hairs on your arms stand to attention. “I-” you hesitate and look down at your feet as you both take slow steps around the path panelled with strands of grass along the edge. You take your lower lip between your teeth, peering up at him. He was listening, carefully, intently like he actually valued what you were about to say. Daniel hadn’t been like that, not near the end anyway.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, chica” 

You nod, and he thinks you’re sweet when you stutter and are unable to find the right words. That changes when you reach the pond in the centre of the park, where a paddle of ducks surveys the waterfront, happily accepting breadcrumbs from a few children and their parents. You tell him how much you love birds, how great you think it is that they can fly away whenever shit gets too crazy. He makes a joke about how it must suck to be a chicken then, and you laugh sincerely for the first time today. 

You walk quickly to a bench that overlooked the park beautifully, beckoning him over. You swear you see him roll his eyes, but he does so comically and then sits beside you, legs apart with his hands knit together between them.  “You know what, I hadn’t been anticipating a trip to the park today, but its a lot nicer than what I expected… lots of kids running around and lots of,” he takes a deep breath “lots of ducks”

you tilt your head “ yeah, you haven’t seen ducks before or something?”

He snorts, shoving your knee away from him with his palm, gently. “Well obviously I have, I’m just saying, well, actually I’m making an… observation” his hands move back to where they’d been a moment ago, and you beam at him stupidly before looking back at the lake, relaxing against the wood that right now feels like the most comfortable place you’ve ever sat. 

“Lalo?”

He glances over you as you shuffle around, “Yeahhh?” 

“Tell me about Mexico, what’s it like? I’ve always wanted to visit” you rest your cheek against the ball of your wrist, hooded eyes set on his as he moves his torso to face your body.

“Well, like most places depends where you go, I guess” 

Dissatisfied with that answer, you poke his forearm “c’mon, be real with me now, what about where you grew up?”

“Wow, I feel like I’m under interrogation here, Princesa, shouldn’t I have a lawyer present?” you laugh at his joke, and he smiles, finding it funny how you have no fucking clue what he’s been up to here, what he and Ignacio have been up to, in-fact, under everyone's unsuspecting noses.

“Well,” he sighs, gesturing with his hands as he spoke “I grew up in Michoacán, where my uncle raised me and my cousins- you know Hector well enough by now, he’s… macho,” you nod, showing him you’re listening as he talks enthusiastically about his family. It warms your heart, and he hates the way you look at him, that innocence in your eyes. He hates it but fucking loves it. “Oh god, you have no idea, Mija, you should’ve seen him when he was well,” he claps his hands together, startling you for a moment.

“Oh?” 

“Yeah, oh god when we were kids, I talked back to him - I was a… cocky like that, as a kid,” you giggle, muttering a ‘yes’, egging him on to continue the story, and he does so with as much energy as before.  “He dunked my head underwater, like fully in there and.. Oh god you’ll love this” he laughs at the memory, and so far you have no idea what to expect. Seeing Hector immobile in his wheelchair, it was hard to imagine him young looking after his nephews, but even harder to imagine the elder dunking a child…

“ he held me there for a minute, I thrashed around for a bit, gave him a show and then went as stiff as a board, and uncle hector he- he grabs me by my shoulders and yanks me out of the water basin,” he places his hands on your shoulders, shaking you slowly as if to imitate young Hector.

“And fully panics, absolutely craps his pants- whilst I'm there playing dead, he goes to call for help when i splash him and run off into the garden” you can’t help but laugh with him as he continues on, telling you how Hector went all red like a tomato- so embarrassed by his mistake, how he had been fooled by a 7-year-old Lalo. The way he moves his arms and gestures as he talks, the enthusiasm and performative aspect of his personality gave you butterflies, hearing him talk about his family, he really loved them. He struck you as the type of guy that’d move heaven and earth for people he cared about. 

“Oh god, Lalo, your uncle and my grandpa would get along… swimmingly”

He breathes out, leaning back against the bench as you talk “yeah, maybe” he admired your optimism, how you thought someone like Hector would get along with your gramps- the naivety of your 22-year-old mind. The fact you hadn’t a clue what he did was hilarious, he wondered whether or not you were like this with all the men you went out with. 

“So, tell me about your childhood then, querida” 

You freeze and purse your lips together, the point of your shoes drawing loose circles in the dirt path.

“Well uh, my parents argued a lot when I was a kid, so I spent a lot of my time with my grandparents… they’re nice…pretty much raised me, honestly.” you pause again, looking at the pond remembering all the arguments you had to listen to, you understood nothing at the time but looking back on it now in retrospect was frightening. “There were good times, I think, I just can’t remember them very well…”

Lalo glances at you, his expression unreadable as he places a hand on your shoulder- patting twice. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry” 

You laugh and stand up from the seat, shaking your head “no, don’t worry about it! It's fine, honestly, shit happens” you wondered why he hadn’t mentioned his own parents, but refrain from prodding that wound open. 

“Well on that note, shall we head to that parlour now? I don’t know about you but ever since you mentioned it in the car…”  he stands up and begins to walk around the other side of the pond, close to the railing. You take a few quick steps after him, hands in your pockets as you both make your way to the exit.

------------

The car ride from the parlour is quiet, and you shuffle your feet against the carpeted floor, knee bouncing as Lalo keeps his eyes on the road. Unfortunately, the parlour was closed. They shut early on Fridays according to the sign in the window, much to your dismay. Lalo wasn’t too bothered about the lack of ice cream, he wasn’t really a big fan though he’d been wanting to get around whilst he was here, maybe try a few new things- like rocky road, whatever the hell that was. At the change of plans, he figured he’d just drive around for a bit, maybe go and get something to eat.

You as of now rest against the window, snoring lightly. Fast asleep. 

It was amusing, though made sense. You looked exhausted. 

It took him 30 minutes to find your place without direction when it could’ve taken 15, yet he hadn’t a problem with driving around. besides, he had nothing better to do. Ignacio had last called him at 12, giving him some information on Fring. He’d make sense of it later, probably had something to do with Werner Zeigler and that ice box he was supposedly building. 

As he parked up beside your house, your phone started to ring, loud- rousing you from your sleep. He watched as you groaned and pulled the flip from your bag. It looked a lot older from where he sat, the bag. The leather was worn and one of the metal clasps had fallen off. He saw the book popping out, how many do you have in this little house of yours, and where do you keep them?

“God, not this again…” 

He tilts his head, and you whine into your palm- looking like you were going to start crying. You muttered something beneath your breath, but he couldn’t quite catch it in time.

“Everything okay?”

You shake your head, he doesn’t notice but his grip tightens on the wheel as you do. “Tell me” this obviously was what you’d been worried about, what you hadn’t wanted to mention at the park earlier.

“I-i keep getting these weird phone calls, there’s quiet beeps on the other end and nothing else- and when i wake up in the morning there’s all this…” you sniffle, eyes brimming with tears- you feel pathetic, crying in front of a man you hardly know “ weird stuff outside my house, I'm not crazy Lalo I swear I think someone’s stalking me- or after me, something like that, I've been getting this weird stuff for a while now and- and-”

You press your face into your hands, and he sits there unsure of what to do as you sob quietly. Your phone stops ringing for a moment. He goes to open his mouth to ask a question when it rings for a second time. The same private number. 

“Give me that,” he takes the phone from your lap, and for a split second you want to tell him to stop, but you don’t. Because you want him to protect you. 

“Hello?” when he talks this time, he doesn’t sound as sincere or friendly, actually pretty pissed off as he inhales through gritted teeth, stifles a laugh and snaps the phone shut. “Maldito cabrón… fucker hung up on me.” 

Your hands fall into your lap, and you look up at him, cheeks stained with tears. He sighs and snaps the phone in half as though it were nothing. “L-Lalo what the hell?! That’s my phone, everyone I need is on that” 

He shrugged and tossed both halves into the backseat. 

“I’ll get you a new phone,” you go to open your mouth when he cuts you off, his rough hand pressed against the back of yours “do you have any idea who it could be?”

You shake your head again, he suspects you’re lying and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. “You don’t have to be afraid”

Your eyes flicker toward him and then back down at the hands on your lap. 

“My ex, Daniel, he was pretty weird- a pretty possessive guy and i- I don’t know if he’d go as far as stalking me but... I wouldn't be surprised, you know?” Lalo nods, asking if there’s anything he can do for you now. You lift your shoulders and let them fall, your eyes were swollen and cheeks flushed- still a little embarrassed from the meltdown.

“Can… you stay with me for a little while, please? Just so I can sleep a little” you sigh, sniffling as he squeezes your hand again “I don’t want to be alone, god knows what he’ll do if he knows I'm with another guy, maybe he’ll…”

“Listen to me, he won’t do anything to you.” 

He steps out of the car and moves to your side, helping you out similarly to how he had at the park- though this time you handled it a lot less gracefully. 

------------

It’s now 1:00 am and you’re sound asleep beside him on the sofa, you have been for a few hours, actually. He’d gotten himself comfortable and turned on this old-school black-and-white movie with cowboys and guns. The kind hector was obsessed with watching. You stir from your end of the couch, and he shifts to give you more room. The blanket draped across your frame is soft, and for a moment he finds himself running his hands across the top. Earlier in the park, he actually enjoyed your conversation, he liked when people took an outside interest in his life. People he knew, people that knew what he did would ask questions but were never really genuine about it. Their kindness was always conditional, and he sometimes wondered if he could trust anyone other than the handful of family members he had left.

He looks at his watch, 1:24, he better get going. 

Lalo reaches out, lifting the blanket up to try and get to the inside pocket of your shirt- where you had put the keys to your home upon entering. Though before he could, you sat up abruptly, your head almost hitting his as he’d been half leaning over the top of you.

“Lalo, is everything okay?” you rub your eyes, appearing so small and innocent as you do. He nods his head, yes, and you smile, taking his hands in yours. You’re half asleep and have no idea what you’re doing, but he lets you hold him like that for a second before slowly pulling back and manoeuvring off the sofa. He hears a whine, which makes him chuckle, you’re funny when you’re tired. If he could stay he’d tease you about it, but now he had some other things planned, he had texted Nacho and asked him to pick up a new phone for you, and managed to find your ex-boyfriend's full name whilst you were out.

“Querida, I have to go now”

You huff, sit up properly, and swing your legs over the side of the couch. The metal of the keys jingle against one another in your pocket as you stand, almost falling over. 

“Easy, kid” you laugh, voice hoarse with sleep as he follows you to the front door.

Your home is only on one level, there are no stairs, which for you is great. Had you been alone in a story house, you’d probably fall down the stairs or hell, maybe even fall up the stairs after seeing him to the door.

“Thank you for staying with me Lalo, you’re such a sweetheart..”

He sighs, brushing off your compliment as though he’d heard it a million times before.

“Esta Bien, my friend has gone to get you a new phone, I’ll have him bring it here tomorrow morning” he tussles your hair, you whine again and try to flatten it, still trying to make yourself look pretty for him. 

“Alright, wait uh, Lalo will I…” you swallow, and he notices your hands bunch up the fabric of your shirt, “ will I see you again, before you leave?”

You sound almost sad, and he wants to just squeeze the life out of you. How adorable. You’ve talked to him twice in person, yet somehow you still manage to get upset at the idea of him leaving…

“Of course, bebita, we can arrange something soon, no?” he opens the door and walks out, you follow him in a few small steps and grab ahold of his wrist.

“Yeah, when everything is better” you stand tall and press a kiss to his cheek, lingering there for a moment. Your lips are soft, and he wants to take your face in his hands and kiss you hard- but he doesn’t. He reminds himself you’re just a girl, a woman he met a few weeks ago as you let him leave.

He sits in the car for a few minutes after you’d locked the door, staring at your home from the curbside. Once you turn the lights off, he pushes on the gas and speeds off into the night.

Daniel, who do you think you are?

ahhh thank you so much for reading i hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, if you have any suggestions for what you'd like to see happen next please let me know in the comments xx

Just a quick question are you heterosexual

I’m very disappointed with The Haunting of Bly Manor... the beginning’s cool, the characters have potential accents not counting and the story could have been awesome

But I’d give it a 5/10 and those are 5 points on lesbian representation and potential alone

There’re characters whose stories get explained for no reason (the kids’ parents, and Uncle Henry’s involvement with their mother...? They even imply that how they died is important, and they never explain, Dani’s ex’s story was completely pointless and so was his ‘ghost’, Peter’s backstory was told in half a scene and it was much more important)

The ghost story doesn’t make much sense to me at all. What was Viola’s reason for anything? What are those flashbacks they have? Do all ghosts have them? What exactly did Peter want by possessing the boy? He’d try to leave by possessing Rebecca and that got him nowhere...? Do the ghosts even manage to “cross to the other side”? If so, why?

Also Jamie’s telling the story in front of Uncle Henry, Miles, and Flora and not one of them realises it’s their story?

The Course of True Love Masterlist:

After a notorious outlaw is found accidentally by Arthur Morgan, Minnie Barlow is befriended by the fellow outlaw after giving up information about Colm O'Driscoll, a gang leader both she and Dutch van der Linde have detested. She is offered a tent of safety in their camp as their search for their rival was incessant as she insisted her stay was interim after taking notice of being too attracted to Arthur, sharing the same taste for hunting, fishing, and robbing, the pair almost imperceptive that they were letting themselves fall in love. As one of Arthur's dear friends and father figure tells it, "the course of true love cannot be stopped, whether it is intended or not."

Disclaimer:

This is a work of fiction. Names, songs, characters, businesses, places, events, locations, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner (Rockstar Games). Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Cover designed and created by fellow Wattpad user, GypsyRose1990! This story was posted originally on Wattpad by me, so the original link is here.

Colter - Outlaws From the West

Colter - Enter, Pursued by a Memory

Colter - Old Friends

Colter - The Aftermath of Genesis

Colter - Who the Hell is Leviticus Cornwall?

Colter - Eastward Bound

Horseshoe Overlook - Polite Society, Valentine Style

Horseshoe Overlook - Americans at Rest

Horseshoe Overlook - Paying a Social Call

Horseshoe Overlook - Exit Pursued by a Bruised Ego

OH MY GOD amazing <3 I love a respectfully pining arthur

Of Swampy Dreams

Well as promised, here's my little fic based on the dream I had where Arthur shoved me through a window into a swamp, in order to escape from a house we were robbing! Anyway hope you all enjoy!

‘Aw shit,’ you heard Arthur mutter behind you, as you were rifling through a drawer. Thus far this home robbery had not proved fruitful. The most you and Arthur had found was a couple of dollars, some brass candlesticks, a few cans of food and that was about it. Evidently, the tip Arthur had received from a thief he had helped escape the law, was either deliberately wrong or he had mixed up the houses.

‘What is it?’ you asked, glancing over your shoulder.

‘We got company, dammit, why the hell is he back so early?’ Arthur barely let you push the drawer back into place, when he was already hurrying you into a back room. Dusk was creeping in rapidly and you could barely see anything apart from what little light was let in from a window. The window was set quite high up in the wall and there was no other way of getting out what looked like was a glorified store cupboard.

‘Well shit,’ you whispered, ‘How are we going to get out of here?’

Arthur rolled his eyes and pointed to the window.

‘I can’t reach that!’ you snapped.

‘I’ll give you a leg up, but hurry up, quit yappin’!’

He forced open the window and cupped his hands together to form a little step. You sighed heavily and then placed your foot in his hands, while grasping the window frame and inelegantly hoisting yourself up. You were busy muttering under your breath about this all being a pointless waste of time, when you realised as you were wiggling out the window that the murky, stinky swamp of Lagras was right underneath rather than any wrap-around porch or solid ground.

‘Arthur, wait!’ you hissed.

‘We ain’t got time to wait!’

‘The swamp is-!’ But he had already shoved you through the window and you landed in the swamp with a squelchy plop. You were lucky to have taken a breath before you entered the murky water, but as you breached the surface you wiped away the weed and mud from your face, as Arthur landed beside you.

‘You goddamn ass-!’ you began to exclaim, but he was already dragging you off.

‘C’mon, don’t want to wait to get caught, hardly be worth Hosea breakin’ us out of jail. And I assume ya don’t want to get eaten by an alligator?’

You squelched your way out of the bog, sticking to the reeds and bullrushes, so the homeowner would not spot you both. Though you doubted very much he would even notice the missing two dollars and would probably think he had misplaced the candlestick. You made it to the road, though you hated the way your boots were stuck fast to your feet and your clothes were drenched. Arthur whistled for the horses and you glared at him.

‘Some god damn robbery this was!’ you muttered.

‘Look, it don’ always go to plan.’

‘We may as well have pick pockets in Saint Denis or played poker, we’d have earnt more money!’

Arthur sighed and caught your horse’s reins as she ambled up to you both. Lacey nickered softly and Arthur gave her neck an absentminded pat, before gesturing for you to mount up.

‘C’mon, we’ll ride back to Rhodes and I’ll pay for you to have a bath,’ he said.

‘Rhodes? Ride back to Rhodes? I’ve got to ride all the way back-!’

‘Well how else you goin’ to get home?’

‘We are finding a god damn stream or river and I am washing the worse of this off. You can grumble all you want, but you aren’t soaked from head to toe in stinky swamp water!’

You mounted Lacey, without Arthur’s help and he stomped off. You barely waited for him to mount up on Topaz, instead kicking your horse into a quick canter and riding off down the forest path. You heard Arthur mutter something under his breath as you passed him, but he soon caught up with you. The sun was just sinking below the horizon and the hum and whine of insects was slowly growing louder, the boggy warmth from the swamp was cooling rapidly. You knew you weren’t far from the Kamassa River and even though the water would likely be very cold, you would be glad to wash yourself off.

There was a small island ahead of you, right in the middle of the river, and you pushed Lacey across to reach it. Once you had reached the middle, you jumped off Lacey and began to strip off your dress.

‘Woah! Easy!’ Arthur yelled, then quickly turned away as you caught his eye.

‘What am I meant to do?’ You snapped. ‘You get a fire going, so I don’t freeze to death, while I wash off.’

You stomped off over to the river, though you heard Arthur mutter under his breath about you being ‘So goddamn dramatic!’ First you gave your clothes a good wash, though to get out the smell you would probably need to wash them properly back at camp, but a thorough scrub removed most of the mud. Once you were done, you headed back to the fire Arthur had got going and flung your soaked dress over a nearby tree branch. Arthur was determinedly focusing on adding more twigs to the fire and you rolled your eyes at his stubborn back.

‘Not like you ain’t seen Karen or Mary-Beth in their underthings!’ you muttered. Half the women would walk around in the evening and early morning in their chemises or combinations, you included. You didn’t know why Arthur was making a big show of respecting your modesty all of a sudden!

You carefully dipped your toes into the river and hissed at how cold the water was. You bit your lip hard, so you wouldn’t shriek as the water lapped at your calves, then your thighs and your belly. This would be a quick wash and no mistake! You took several breaths, then counted in your head ‘1, 2, 3…’ and dunked yourself under the water. You let out a small scream in the water and quickly surfaced. God damn, it was freezing! Your head felt like it was full of icy needles. You scrubbed yourself furiously, then sloshed your way to the shore.

You suddenly realised that you had been a bit of an idiot. You didn’t have any other clothes and your combinations were completely drenched. You would need to strip off and wear your blanket wrapped around you, hopefully Mr Morgan would not faint in shock!

You darted through the small camp, grabbing the spare blanket from Lacey’s back and making your way into your tent.

‘I thought you was just goin’ to wash yourself off?’ Arthur said, you saw him look up at you, then quickly avert his gaze. Granted you’d forgive the modesty act this time, seeing as your combinations were sticking to your skin and you could easily see your nipples through the thin cotton material.

‘Well I did!’

‘I thought you was just going to wash your hands and face.’

‘Hey, you were the one who decided we should rob a house with nothing in it in a damn swamp! And then you shoved me through a window into said swamp! You don’t get to act like we’ve both been making great, smart decisions here.’

Arthur let out a small huff of laughter and lowered his head. ‘Alrigh’, sorry. But get out those things, ya goin’ to catch ya death.’

‘As if I didn’t know that!’ you grumbled, then walked over to your horse and pulled off the spare blanket you had. You began to strip off your wet clothes and scrubbed yourself dry. Once you were dry and tied your hair up, you wrapped the blanket around you. You brought your combinations with you and flung them over the tree branch. You took a seat by Arthur, next to the fire, and tried to get yourself warm, though you kept shivering with the cold.

‘Yer a damn fool,’ Arthur muttered, bringing out some dried meat and a can of beans he left near the fire to warm up.

‘You’re the one who decided to rob an empty house!’

‘I had a tip!’

‘Oh yeah, and it was a really good one! We’d have made more money shooting an alligator or getting their eggs and selling that in town.’ You managed to say through chattering teeth.

Arthur sighed, then began to rub your arms, almost making you lose your grip on your blanket.

‘Hey, easy! Thought Great Aunt Arthur Morgan was going to faint if he saw my tits!’ you exclaimed.

‘Great Aunt what now?’

‘What? Most men would be quite happy to have a naked cold woman all alone in a wood with them, but you act like you’re going to faint because you saw my ankle!’ you grinned, even though you were cold and Arthur’s hands on your arms were very warm. You couldn’t help wriggling closer to him, in an attempt to get warm.

‘I ain’t like most men and I ain’t goin’ to faint on seein’ your goddamn ankle, just… just tryin’ to be respectful, that’s all.’

‘Oh Arthur, you really are a gentleman, shoving ladies out of windows into swamps and then almost pulling their blanket down when trying to warm them up.’

‘Do you ever shut up?’

‘Only when I’m being shoved through a win-‘

He suddenly cupped your face and pulled you in for a kiss. His hand slipped behind your head, tugging you in closer and you felt your cheeks burn, as his lips met yours and you almost went to put your arms around him, but then remembered the blanket you were still clutching to your chest. He was so warm and smelt of whiskey and smoke and something earthy and sweet. You almost wanted to wrap yourself up in his jacket. Your heart was racing, every nerve ending alive with electricity and he was still kissing you, passionately, deliciously. Finally, he pulled away, though his hands still gently cupped your face, as he gazed into your eyes and a shy smile graced his lips.

‘Sorry, ya still stink of the swamp,’ he said.

You smacked his arm, though you couldn’t help laughing. ‘Well you owe me a new dress!’ You smiled gratefully as he pulled off his jacket and draped it around your shoulders.

‘Sure, think it’s the least I can do.’