20 #3
I thought she was still asleep, but within seconds she opens her eyes. She then opens her mouth, ready to scream, probably frightened by the balaclava covering my face and the leftover blood on my naked torso. Before she can do it I cover her mouth with my hand.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Please don’t scream,” I murmur in a low whisper.
I don’t remove the mask that covers my entire face except for my eyes. I’m too absorbed in watching her, as if she’s some kind of goddess, to remember that detail. She’s more than just a goddess.
I want to ask her about her father. Knowing who is to blame, guilt is eating away at me. But that’s soon forgotten when I hear her voice.
“What are you doing here?” She asks in a whisper, sitting up in bed. “And why are you covered in blood?”
“I need you,” I admit in a barely audible whisper.
I’m kneeling before her, revealing how much I need her and almost begging for her forgiveness. She could laugh in my face or tell me to fuck off and I wouldn’t care. After all, my heart and soul had long since ceased to belong to me, and I don’t want them back.
She lowers her head, realizing that part of her panties are visible, and immediately covers herself with a slight blush on her cheeks.
“Oh, yeah? And what for?” She asks with a sly smile playing on her lips. I know she got what I really meant, but I do answer anyway.
I love that fucking mouth of hers. I knew from the moment I found her smoking weed in her school that it would be part of my total downfall for her, as well as the main reason my hands would always be printed on her ass.
“To sleep, to eat, to breathe, to live. I need you for everything, Lena.” It was usually easy for me to read what was hidden behind the wonderful green of her eyes, but this time it’s hard to guess.
“Is it true that we were dating?” Her question makes me frown with displeasure.
“Yes. It is,” I spit through clenched teeth.
“How did it end? Why did we break up?”
“Who said it ended?” I ask in a low, almost sarcastic tone.
“Grace said we were dating, but she wasn’t sure, that it was just a rumor.”
I hold her hands in mine for a moment before pressing my lips to the back of them through the fabric, feeling a tingling sensation throughout my body.
“We never broke up,” I say, staring at her two precious stones. I wait for the memories to come back to her, but from the look of confusion on her face, I guessed they didn’t.
“I thought we did.”
“Well, you thought wrong.” I cup her face in my hands, forcing her to hold my gaze. “I would bleed for you and rip out my guts without a second thought if you asked me to. I’ve killed countless times for you. Do you really think I would be capable of leaving you?”
I don’t bother to hide my irritation at her doubts.
I don't tell her about the times Denis found me bleeding on the floor next to the knife I just slid across my veins when my desperation at not finding her was stronger than my desire to keep breathing.
I still have a few small scars under the tattoos on my arms.
“No,” she replies in a whisper. “Why didn’t you look for me before, then? I haven’t heard from you in all these years.”
“Believe me, I did, but you didn’t make it easy for me. Every time I thought I had found you, you went somewhere else.” She furrows her brow, looking at me in bewilderment, but says nothing more.
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, drawing my attention to her face. “I had a kind of amnesia after an accident I had, and I don’t remember anything. I’m really confused.”
“I know, but I’ll always be there for you, whatever you need. I want to help you.”
“How do you know?” she asks, bringing her face close to my hand.
“There’s nothing about you that I don’t know.” She raises an eyebrow subtly as if she doesn’t believe me, but it’s true. And the little I don’t, I’ll find out sooner or later.
“It may not be the same as before.”
“I don’t care.”
Something as trivial as change is exempt from the shadows that surround and unite our souls for all eternity. I would recognize her in all her forms, for her soul would remain the same as always even if she doesn’t know.
She smiles briefly, and when she yawns, I smile again, filled with tenderness and feeling a burning heat cover my chest. She’s the most adorable and pure thing I ever had. Because she is mine. In body, soul, and mind, she is mine.
“I’ll let you sleep.”
“No. Wait.” Her voice stops me before she gets up. “Stay.”
When I take off my balaclava, she looks away. Her cheeks turning slightly red pull up the corner of my lips again.
I lay down next to her under the sheets, throwing the bear on the floor without her noticing.
My heartbeat slows until it almost disappears when she lays her head on my chest and I wrap my arm around her waist. She falls asleep in a matter of minutes, but I can’t stop watching her all night as I slowly stroke her hair.
The conversation with my father would have to wait.
Gringo: is a Spanish term used in Latin America for foreigners, typically those from the U.S. or English-speaking countries, often with a derogatory tone. Its meaning varies by region, sometimes referring to any foreigner, specifically to U.S. citizens or even white people.