desiderium | m. o'hara

seventeen*

TW: blood, blood drinking, (does this count as blood play?/hj) this is so close to full smut that I'm going to claim it as an 18+ chapter so no minors allowed‼️


i actually hate this chapter LOL enjoy

  My hand is, just as Miguel said, unbroken but hurts enough. He bandages it carefully while mumbling under his breath at my recklessness. I pretend not to hear him, sitting on the bench and swinging my legs.

  One hand bandaged, the other arm scarred. It's been an exciting past few weeks.

  "We should go away," I say as I wait for the painkillers to kick in. Miguel moves about the kitchen, making tea for us and a hot chocolate for Rosalina. My eyes follow him like they're attached. "Go on a trip. It'll make Rosita feel better. We're overdue for a holiday, anyway."

  "That's not a bad idea," he agrees. He passes the mug to my good hand. "When?"

  "Tomorrow."

  "Tomorrow?" Miguel sends me an incredulous look. "Where are we going to find a place to stay?"

  "Mig bought me a lake house as a wedding present," I answer. Miguel's brows raise in disbelief. "It's where we always go when we want to get out of town. Rosita loves it there."

  "Of course he did," Miguel mutters and leans against the kitchen bench with a scowl. He takes an annoyed sip of his drink. "Mr. Perfect."

  I snort. "You are not jealous of your own self."

  "I'm not."

  "Uh-huh." I don't believe him for a second.

  Miguel clears his throat. "How's your hand?" he asks, an unsubtle attempt to change the subject.

  I look down at my bandage apathetically. "I dunno." I peek up at him smugly. "How's your raging boner?" 

  The look he sends me is withering. "Can you go back to being mopey? At least you weren't bent on making my life hell."

  I snicker. "Sorry."

  "No, you're not."

  I squint my eyes over my tea at him. "No, I am not."

  Miguel turns his head away with a shake of disbelief. My amusement soars. He's smug until he's grumpy, and then he's grumpy until he's whiny. He has all my favourite buttons to push.

  Rosalina joins us moments later. She shuffles into the kitchen in her fluffy pyjamas and a pout that still hasn't left her face. She ignores the hot chocolate Miguel offers her and wordlessly buries her head into his stomach instead, hiding her face away from the world. He puts the mug back onto the bench and rests his hand on her hair. 

  Miguel and I share a worried look. Getting away is definitely a good idea.

  "Hey, papita." I slide to the floor and crouch before her. She peeks one teary eye out at me. "What do you think about going to the lake for a few days? Does that sound nice?"

  She turns her head to me. "Yeah."

  "Yeah?" I grin encouragingly. I stroke a lock of her brown hair from her face.

  "Yeah." She sniffles. Her gaze drops to my new bandage. "What'd you do to your hand?"

  I tuck my bandaged hand behind my back. "Nothing. I just caught it in the fridge door."