Chapter Four #2
“Shhh,” Xavi hummed, wrapping him in a bear hug, pressing a kiss so gentle and soft against the top of Lulu’s head that it only made him cry even harder.
“Don’t cry, Lulu. You’re good. You’ll be fine.
” Xavi’s voice remained calm, his hands moving in soothing movements through the longish hair at the nape of Lulu’s neck.
Lulu noticed Xavi’s heart was pounding just as rapidly as Lulu’s own.
“Can you stand?” Xavi spoke against his temple, his breath caressing Lulu’s skin, taking some of the pain away.
Lulu nodded against Xavi’s chest. “I think so.”
Xavi moved, his hands sliding to Lulu’s elbows, before he got up, carefully pulling Lulu with him. Immediately, pain shot through Lulu’s bones, the skin on his knees feeling like it was on fire.
“Shit, shit, shit,” he hissed. As he took in the blood pooling around the torn denim on both his knees, the world started spinning, and if it wasn’t for Xavi’s firm grasp on his elbows, he would’ve fallen over.
Lulu hated blood. Always had. From the intense color to the nauseating odor to the metallic taste when it filled your mouth until it felt like you were drowning in a sea of red.
“I’ve got you,” Xavi cooed, his hands dropping to Lulu’s waist as he took him in, his deep-brown eyes filled with concern. “Can you walk, or do you need me to carry you?”
“I can walk,” Lulu croaked, looking around the park, which was now deserted of people as late afternoon was blending into early evening. In a few hours, he had rehearsals. They’d planned to go straight to the theater from the park. Fuck his life.
“You sure?” While still holding on to Lulu, Xavi bent to pick up his leather jacket he’d dropped on the ground when he’d rushed to Lulu’s rescue. Briefly letting go of Lulu, he quickly slid his arms into it, zipped it up, then his hands were back, resting on each side of Lulu’s waist.
Lulu nodded, and Xavi moved around to his side, wrapping an arm around Lulu’s waist, holding him against his side.
The first step was excruciatingly painful, Lulu’s knees pounding with the aftermath of the impact from falling.
The torn denim scratched the gashes with every step he took, and he dug his teeth into his bottom lip to stifle his whimpers.
They’d barely made it to the main path before it started raining again.
Xavi cursed under his breath as icy drops of water the size of quarters hit them.
They’d be soaked by the time they made it to the parking area.
When Lulu shivered while a broken sob spilled from his lips, Xavi stopped, a determined look on his face as he seemed to contemplate something.
Then, before Lulu knew what was happening, Xavi blurted, “That’s it.
I’m fucking carrying you, hermano.” Tightening his hold around Lulu’s waist, he threw his other arm behind Lulu’s legs and easily lifted him off the ground as though he weighed nothing.
Before he could object, Lulu was airborne, then settled comfortably in Xavi’s strong hold.
“Xavi…” he breathed, his voice trembling. For a brief moment, their gazes connected, their eyes locked on each other. Then something moved through Xavi’s that was so tender, Lulu started crying again.
“Please don’t cry, baby.” Xavi adjusted him in his hold, then pressed a gentle kiss against Lulu’s temple. “Let’s get you home, okay?”
“Okay,” Lulu whispered, sniffling against Xavi’s chest, and suddenly he was no longer in the park, but catapulted back to another day so many years ago, when Xavi had found him on the front steps to his apartment building and had spoken the exact same words. ‘Let’s get you home, okay?’
‘I can’t go home.’ Lulu had shaken his head, blood from his busted eyebrow dripping into his eyes. A crying Manu had been crouching at his side like a little bird that had already seen and heard too much for his only seven years. Lulu had been twelve.
‘I meant my place.’ Xavi had squeezed his hand before he’d pulled Lulu to his feet, and then with his other arm, tugged a trembling Manu against his side.
Upstairs, Xavi had patched him up. It had been the first time, but it sure as shit wouldn’t be the last. Over the years, Lulu had lost count of the number of times he’d fled over to Xavi’s place, a snot-nosed Manu in tow, sometimes only in their pajamas, once or twice barefoot too.
‘Please don’t tell anyone,’ he’d whispered into the space between them as Xavi had leaned over him, cleaning his wound, then placing a butterfly patch over it.
‘I won’t. Mom’s on a late shift. You and Manu can stay. It’s just me, Angelica, and Telma. I’ll tell them you tripped on the stairs coming over.’
Much later, after they’d had dinner and played Mario Kart and Manulito had fallen asleep between them on Xavi’s old, worn couch, Lulu had whispered out into the quiet. ‘I wish you were my real brother, Xavi.’
‘I wish you were mine, too,’ Xavi had whispered back, a strained lilt to his voice.
‘Then Manu and I could live here,’ Lulu had continued, looking around the modest but cozy living room. Xavi hadn’t said anything. He’d been quiet for a while until he looked straight into Lulu’s eyes.
‘You don’t have to go home.’ They both knew, of course, that he had to. Eventually.
‘It’s okay. We’ll go home when he’s passed out.’
‘Please don’t,’ Xavi’s voice had been pleading, his eyes watery.
‘I’ll be okay.’ They both knew that was a lie, too.
“Thank you,” Lulu spoke against Xavi’s chest as he carried him toward the parking area, his muscles flexing with every step.
It was a thank you that extended way past this moment and all the moments in the past when Xavi had been there for him.
It was a thank you reaching way into the future for all the times that hadn’t yet come to pass, where Lulu knew Xavi would be there for him again.
Always there. It was a thank you that, if Lulu wasn’t careful, could easily spill over into other words, far more dangerous sentences, which also always ended with a you.