Ofelia
I tasted the blood before I saw it and when Fabián pulled away, I saw the state of his face and shock rippled through me. He’d been shrouded in darkness before, and then he’d moved so quickly I didn’t get a chance to really see .
His lip was busted open and already starting to swell. His eye was a mess, nearly sealed shut. A cut ran along his eyebrow, dark skin flecked with drying blood.
“Oh my God.” I reached for him, lifting his hands to see the split, bleeding knuckles. “What happened ?” The question tumbled out of me, though it was obvious he’d gotten into a fight. He’d seemed fine earlier when we were texting and that was nearly an hour ago. What had happened in between the moment he texted me and now? “Who did this to you?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
He looked too tired, not just because of his injuries, but a tiredness that ran down into his soul as well. A life born of hardships. He usually hid it so well, showing a levity like he wasn’t bothered by anything in the world.
The entire time we’d been dating, I hadn’t once seen him lose his cool. Even though I knew he could be violent–the evidence was in the blood he wore sometimes on his fingertips when he saw me–it had never gotten this bad before. Seeing him like this was almost too much.
Not for the first time, a sliver of fear ran down my spine. Not of him, but for him. The violence tainting his job could hold with it repercussions that I wasn’t sure either of us were ready to face.
But he didn’t need a lecture from me. He didn’t need me telling him how dangerous what he did was. He knew that, we both did. And I had no right to tell him to give it up. The best thing I could do was be there for him.
So I gentled my tone and my touch. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
He was almost docile as I pulled him to the side of the stage and sat him down then rummaged through my backpack looking for a thin linen cloth. I always kept one on hand alongside a first aid kit because there was always the possibility of accidents in ballet. My beat-up toes were a testament to that.
As I got to work cleaning his hands, methodically using rubbing alcohol and cloth, he barely made a noise, barely winced as I swiped the disinfectant over his knuckles, cleaning away the blood in revealing the split flesh beneath.
He was far too quiet and I couldn’t stand it. “Tell me what happened?”
Fabián looked up at me and there was anguish in his gaze. “I fucked up,” he said quietly. There was so much pain in those few words that my heart clenched.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
His free hand ran through his hair. “My father... he...” He swallowed. “He did this.”
I blinked, sure I’d heard wrong. “What do you mean your father did this to you?”
I hadn’t met the man, and Fabián had been adamant that it remain that way. I hadn’t pressed the issue, nor had I brought up my concerns about meeting him, either way. It wasn’t like I’d rushed to introduce Fabián to my papá either.
It had remained an unspoken agreement between the two of us. Like we’d known what would happen without having to test those waters at all.
If his father had done this sort of brutality to his own son, then I was glad I’d never met the man.
“It was my punishment.”
“But... why ? Punishment for what?”
He sighed and leaned back on his palms, putting distance between us. I sat there, my legs curled under me, a sense of dread tight in my gut.
“There’s something I need you to understand, princesa. There’s a reason I didn’t want you to meet him, and it has to do with your father.”
Confusion spread through my system. “What do you mean my father?” I asked.
He looked me in the eyes. While I could still find traces of tenderness there, it was also laced with something hard and ready, waiting. “I mean your father is the governor,” he began. “My father is a criminal. Do the math, princesa.”
My mind whirred as it started to put the pieces together. Even though I was away from home, I was still privy to my papá’s reelection campaign. His determination to take down corruption and criminals to make a ‘better Mexico’.
I sucked in a breath.
“Do you get it now? Our families are enemies. They always have been. Your papá has been trying to take down the Raven Brothers for years. After you told me your name the first time we met, I knew who you were and I didn’t care. I still wanted you. That’s the first thing you have to know, okay? I wanted you despite your name and despite my own. Despite the bad blood between our families.”
He stared and waited almost like he was preparing himself for a tongue-lashing, for my ire at this big of a secret he’d decided to keep from me. But all I felt was confusion.
“I still don’t understand...”
“My father has been evading yours for years, . Some of our men have been thrown in jail, sometimes our operations have been busted by the feds. But every single time, we know it’s been your father and his party behind it. He’d see us murdered if he could and my father feels the same.”
Realization dawned on me too late. “Your father found out about me–about us. Didn’t he?”
Fabián nodded.
“And he beat you for it?”
“He beat me because...” He let out a breath and leaned forward. There was a fire in his eyes like he meant to drag the entire world to hell at the expulsion of his rancor. “He beat me because I wouldn’t use you like he suggested.”
Horror gagged me. I couldn’t stop the slow pin-prick of tears pressing behind my eyelids. “Use me,” I repeated slowly, not wanting to believe the obvious malice there. “In what way?”
“In whatever way he sees fit. He wants me to use you to get to your father. I don’t know what his plans are. He just wants me to use you for information so that the Raven Brothers don’t have to worry about any more legal repercussions.”
Silence struck like thunder as I mulled over those words. While I’d known our relationship would face difficult trials, that our parents wouldn’t wholly approve, I didn’t think I could have ever imagined this . I couldn’t even put words to what this was.
“I’m no good for you, .”
My gaze snapped to his at those words. That dread in my gut only intensified and spread through the rest of my body, making my hands shake and my heart beat at a rhythm the rest of me couldn’t seem to keep up with.
“What are you saying?”
“We aren’t good for each other, Ofe. We’re too different. We come from different worlds. And there’s nothing in the future for us except fucking tragedy.”
And then he said the words that tore my soul in two.
“We should end things now.”
I struggled to suck in my next breath. I had to force it through my pipes, even though it felt like inhaling glass.
“No,” I stated firmly. The word shook as it left my tongue.
Fabián blinked. That darkness across his gaze intensified, his thick brows slashing into displeasure. “–”
“No,” I repeated, jerking back. A fiery rage tore through my whole body, displacing the panic and sadness completely. “No, Fabián. I know what you’re doing and I won’t let you do it.”
“, listen to me–”
“No. You listen. I know you. You think I don’t because I didn’t know the full truth of things? Well, now I do and I don’t care. You don’t want to end this anymore than I do, and I’ll be damned if I sit here while you try to let other people dictate our lives and our futures. You are not leaving me, Fabián Cuervo. Fate is real and you are my fated. Mi alma gemela. And I refuse to let you go.” I was breathing hard by the time I finished. Tears had already started streaming down my face and I furiously wiped them away.
Fabián’s expression changed. That hardness replaced with worry. “He’ll try to use you in a war against your own father. How can I look you in the eye and tell you I love you if I can’t stop you from getting caught in the crossfire?”
My breath caught. We’d never said those words to each other, though they’d always been implied. In every kiss, every touch. In every way we spoke and interacted, I poured those feelings into him and he did the same to me. That’s how I knew he wasn’t being sincere when he said he wanted to end things.
Our love was as obvious as the heat of the sun and the shadows of the moon.
We were opposites, he was right about that, but we just fit. One couldn’t thrive without the other. Without him, I’d rotate through the universe without purpose. My light would dim without him. And without me, his darkness would swallow him whole.
“I can take care of myself,” I replied. “And if it wasn’t clear, I have faith in you. Anyway, I don’t know what stupid plan your father has cooked up, but I’m scarcely involved in my papá’s politics. I came here to get away from all that. My focus is dance and not much else.”
“... I’m afraid.” His voice shook as much as those words rattled me.
I never imagined Fabián would be scared of anything, but the proof was in his expression, in the way his bleeding hands shook when he lifted them. “I’m afraid I’m not strong enough to protect you.”
“Mi amor...” I crawled towards him on all fours–on the stage I’d dance on in front of hundreds within the week. When I could taste the coppery tang of blood on his lips so near mine, I pressed a gentle kiss to his mouth.
“Protect me by telling him you’ll do it. Tell him you’ll use me.”
Fabián’s hands came to cradle my elbows. His brow rose in a question.
“Lie to him. Tell him you’ll do what he says and we can spin the narrative any way we want when the time comes. We can lie our way through this somehow.” I smiled. “You can’t get rid of me so easily, Fabián. Have more faith in us.”
For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then, he began to chuckle. “You’re amazing, Reyes Munoz. You know that, right?”
I smiled wider, pressing the tip of my finger to the end of his nose. “And don’t forget it.”
He nipped at my finger, biting the tip gently. I pulled my hand away, lowering it back to the floor. I was still on all fours in front of him and the sudden silence between us was a thundering force. The air charged with something electric. Static cackled through the air and I drew in a slow breath, inhaling his familiar scent of tequila and cloves and now, of blood too.
Fabián leaned forward on his palms, nipping my chin with his lips. The feather-touch of his hair against my cheeks made goosebumps break out along my arms.
“.” His breath was warm against my already heated skin. “You’re an amazing dancer.”
“Yeah?”
He kissed the arch of my exposed neck. “Mhm. I never knew a person could move like that.” He licked a stripe over my pulse. “Did you enjoy him touching you, though?”
My body jolted, the words slow to capture. “Who?”
Fabián pulled away and there was something burning in his eyes. “I’m not going to say his fucking name, princesita. You know who.”
Daniel.
My mouth dropped open to reply.
“Don’t fucking say a word.”
And then Fabián kissed me.
It was possessive and demanding, the way his tongue plundered into my mouth to take and consume. I groaned against his lips, my need echoing loud through the theatre. And then he was yanking me up, pulling me into his lap. I straddled him, grinding my hips down against his own. All I needed–wanted–was to feel that hardness against that pulsing part of me that cried for release. Our lips never broke from their lock, but his hands roamed against my body. They slid over my chest, down my arms, over my back, hips, and waist. He touched every piece of me, uncaring about his injuries, about how much it likely hurt. I tried to parry back with slow gentleness, but Fabián wasn’t having it.
He flipped us so I was beneath him and used a hand to pin an arm over my head. Hearts thundering in tandem, drunk on each breath we inhaled from one another, I couldn’t force myself to look away even if I wanted to. Not when that dangerous, piercing gaze ate me up like that’s exactly what he had planned for my body.
There were a thousand worlds and even more words locked in that gaze. He didn’t even need to open that chest for me to know. It was like I was peeking through a keyhole, catching a glimpse of the world inside.
It was beautiful. He was beautiful in the same way the night sky was.
My mouth opened and a low moan escaped me at the very thought of being consumed by him.
Fabián let loose a low chuckle before he bent over me. The moment his mouth closed around my nipple through the material of my leotard, I jerked into him, breathing out hard as his tongue flicked out to tease and writhed when his teeth nipped me into a sharp point.
“Fabián–”
He sat up, releasing my wrist only to bring that hand around my throat. I gasped at the surprise of the action, though his touch was light, gentle. I swallowed, sure he could feel my sudden rapid pulse against his palm.
This was much more than a threat. It was a claiming, a power, and the gentle touch was like he was asking permission to hold it over me.
I’d never been attached to violence more than I was right then.
Every nerve and instinct I possessed wanted to hand that trust over to him. To know that I was at his mercy, but knowing that with me–and only me–he would maintain enough self control to not unleash danger on me fully.
I nodded and that was all he needed. His fingers tightened around my throat a fraction, gradually incrementing in strength.
My mouth opened in a gasp, my heartbeat fluttering like the panicked wings of a flying raven. My airway closed off, and there was a sense of fear that was instinctual, but there was more beyond that. It was the way the pulse of my heart matched the throbbing of my clit, that gripping need that demanded he touch and sate me.
Almost like he understood, he rocked against me, and I swore I could’ve come from that touch alone.
My hands flew out, grasping at his back, slipping up his shirt, raking over tattooed skin I’d spent hours exploring.
And then he released and air came at the same time my body convulsed. I was caught up in the rapture, lost in the sensation of his hips slowly undulating right where I needed him. My head spun in circles, my entire being caught in a wave that was dragging me under.
It took far too long to rise above it, and when I did, my heartbeat couldn’t seem to slow. Every breath was loud and labored. Nothing about me was elegant right then. Covered in sweat, gasping for breaths, but with the comforting weight of Fabián on top of me, and the taste of cloves, tequila, and blood on my tongue.