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fifty:: when he's the one in need of saving.

hi, here I am, interrupting all your New Years festivities with an update... ps help me with my Spanish, it's a mess

[MILO; BEST PART BY DANIEL CEASER]

TRIGGER WARNING: TALK OF SUICIDE CONTEMPLATION

FIFTY: when he's the one in need of saving.

Paul's family home was so welcoming, so family-oriented and he was so right about his mother being amazing at pretty much everything. She could sing, I heard as she moved about in the kitchen humming a tune I wasn't so familiar with... her mango bread was pretty great, I'd tasted it when Paul had snuck a piece before dinner and her decor was beautiful.

The house was beautiful, everything was so vibrant and there was always music playing... always. At some point, their stereo was turned all the way up, Paul and his mom dancing in the living room together, joy surrounding both of them and I sat back watching and thinking about how much this place resembled him, how I could see the little pieces he'd taken with him and how I could see his mother's bright smile in him.

Paul was a reflection of his home: loving, stable, and beautiful. Or, at least, that's what I thought until the music was turned down to barely noticeable a few hours later and dinner was spread out on the table. His mother seemed to be so excited that he came and visit that she made the biggest meal I'd ever seen and the table was spread beautifully. It seemed like a lot of food for just the immediate family but there wasn't just immediate family.

Around the table sat me, my boyfriend, his two brothers... his parents and his grandma as well as two women he called his aunts and a cousin that looked about thirteen and barely talked, dinner was actually my first time seeing him.

It was tense, the air and my boyfriend's body as well. His fingers were wrapped so tightly around his fork and his eyes stayed on his food. All of their eyes were on him and he was just staring at his plate, conversation had really died down since his Abuela had set out the food and I was sure it was weird.

Their family had Sunday dinner much like we did and I mean... The food was amazing but that wasn't the only reason I couldn't stop staring at my plate. Sitting at his dinner table, right across from his older brother, it felt like I was imposing. I'd been having an okay day but with all the food on my plate, I felt a bit too full too early, I also felt a little rude for not having finished anything. It had been quiet for so long, small snippets of conversation and Paul had noticed that my hand was clenching so hard there were marks in my palms.

Almost as if he himself wasn't uncomfortable, he went to comforting me. Grabbing my hand, he massaged my palm in comfort, uncurling my fingers until I was calm enough for him to place his hand in mine.

My heart was in my fucking knees.

A girl that looked around out age was wrestling an eight year old boy to the ground. She was pretty, a point a the tip of her nose, darker-warm skin with one or two moles on the high points of her face.

She had long, thick curly hair tied back in a ponytail, big brown eyes, high cheekbones.

Paul hugged her to his side, turned with a smile to me, "Jules this is my cousin Alexa," she grinned, "and this is Leo."

Leo was running around again, airplane in hand. Alexa tucked loose hair behind her ear. She looked black, actually, that was the first shock.