My Sunshine ✔

[ 37 ]

"My sister said I'm Hispanic but I don't know a lick of Spanish." Narco waved his hands around as he opened a fresh topic about ancestry. "She was fluent, actually. My mom was from Spain, and father from the US. I only remember certain words, mostly swear words,"

Lewis couldn't help his grin at that. He tapped his fingers gently against the wooden table, waiting for the food to arrive.

"What about you?" Lewis froze. "You don't have to say—"

"It's okay," He reassured, resting his cold hands on top of Narco's and squeezing it. "My mother is Italian and dad's... I don't know. I didn't learn Italian because I was stubborn, somewhat rebellious. Dad had to move here because of work stuff." Lewis looked at the waiter approaching their table. He somehow found a smile for the stranger amongst his burning resentment. Narco nodded understandingly, sipping on water. Lewis appreciated the lack of response, aware that bitterness could be heard in his tone.

"How was your childhood?"

Narco blinked, then furrowed his brows, a sharp slope on his features. He opened his mouth, closed it with a deeper frown. Lewis wanted to take the question back, then Narco spoke. "It's weird... I don't remember much. Only that my sister was good and father... not the best. She looked after us. I wonder if she would have if she wasn't forced to."

"What was her name?" Lewis asked tentatively.

He stared at faint marks on the table, scratching small dips. His lips twisted into a gentle smile. "Lucy," There's pride in his voice, filling their silence. Lewis could see it in his eyes, feel it in her name, and gave a nod.

"Thank you," They said in unison, and dug into their food. The topic changed to literature, art, favourites, hobbies. Lewis never thought talking to somebody could be so relaxing. He was always cautious, avoiding pins and needles, anxious, dubious. With Narco, he didn't feel the need to over-clarify himself, doubt his words and how they could be twisted, worry if he should tone down his excitement. It was new and exhilarating.

Narco was blushing, looking at the piece of the chicken Lewis was trying to feed him. "Say ah," Lewis said, smirking at the redness he saw.

"For god's sake, Lewis, I'm not a child." Narco rolled his eyes but accepted the oncoming food. His heart stuttered at the teasing smile.

Narco felt giddy and happy during their date. Date. The word excited him. Every time he glanced at Lewis, his heart beated faster and his stomach tied itself into knots. It was the exact feeling when he saw Lewis for the first time. He wanted to stare forever at the mesmerizing angles; sharp yet soft, terrifying yet kind, perfect yet imperfect. There were many things he hadn't noticed, each inch was waiting to be explored and he knew for a fact that he'd never get bored of staring.

It took him a second to realize Lewis' gaze was settled on him, eyebrows raised expectantly.

"Why does your stutter appear randomly?" He asked without a thought. His eyes widened in horror at the bluntness, but Lewis smiled and huffed a laugh.

"When I'm nervous or flustered or have to speak to random people, I get a stutter." Lewis murmured. "You think it's annoying?" He bit his lip, his insecurities thinly veiled.

"No, I think it's... you," Narco frowned, scratching the table.

"You think I'm annoying?" Lewis smirked, eyes alight with amusement as the man floundered, horrified. Narco relaxed when he saw the teasing smile, opting to nudge Lewis' feet.

"Not what I meant." He murmured, soft gaze settling on pale hands. Narco smiled as he laced his fingers with Lewis'. The man opposite to him obviously blushed at the unexpected gesture. "Anyways, you didn't answer my question,"

Lewis scrunched his face and mentally cursed himself. "It's just a bunch of bullying, being silent, and stuttering when I finally talked."

"That's terrible."

"Thank you for the input, Sherlock,"

Narco softly laughed in endearment as he tried to suppress the butterflies that were wild in his stomach. He knew the prickly, sarcastic remark wasn't mean. The rolling of eyes and not-so-hidden smile was confirmation enough.

He was falling for Lewis all over again. Mind foggy as eyes only focused on pale skin, he wanted to lose himself in the moment. No noises, just Lewis and him eating dinner, talking for hours without getting tired.

Lewis glanced at his almost finished food. He looked at Narco, seemingly lost in his own world. "Hey, am I that boring?" He joked, and chuckled at Narco's panicked reaction.

"Just thinking about you." He truthfully answered, flashing a genuine smile and continuing eating. It had just slipped out of his mouth, and he was not blushing.

"H-How nice," Flustered, Lewis stared at the table, but he refused to let it show. Of course he had to stutter to let the whole world know.

Narco bit back a grin, knowing Lewis wasn't going to fool him anytime soon. He laughed after taking the last bite, "You like it when I think about you?" Narco teased. Lewis could no longer ignore the blooming warmth on his cheeks. Narco could no longer ignore Lewis' actions when he was flustered, biting his lip and trying to play it off. It was something he loved.

Narco was falling for Lewis. Harder than he had imagined. And it hurt in the most beautiful ways possible, creeping, unstable, raw, painful.

"Y-Yeah— I mean w-who wouldn't?"

"True," Narco agreed, waiting patiently for Lewis to finish. The bill was paid by Narco, which Lewis very much disapproved of, making sure to show it through glares and frowns. The conversation went like this: 'Fifty-fifty.', 'No, hundred-zero.' And Lewis had whined, kicked Narco's foot until he glared.

They decided to spend some more time in the diner. It was quiet and serene, the low hum of music blanketing silences, and Narco wanted to admire Lewis in the harsh, pale yellow light a bit more.

The words rushed to his brain, shocking him with three words too many. He knew it, of course he did, but the strain in his throat as he tried to cage those words didn't help. The need to say those words before perpetuity collapsed and people vanished was tugging at him. What if he doesn't say it back? He knew that was okay too, people rarely said it back to him and he was used to it. Something about this was different, he couldn't place his finger on it.

At the end, he settled for the usual, "I love you,"

"I know," Lewis said, smiling into his second glass of water.

He doubted Lewis knew what his words implied and the rush to clarify emerged, only being drowned out by waves of anxiousness. Maybe Lewis did know the implications, maybe he did know what those small moments where their eyes connected meant.

Narco pulled back, cupped Lewis' cheek and gave the shocked man a long, passionate kiss. He pushed his feelings through it, each note of desperation carrying the words 'I love you', each lost breath a promise, each touch unravelling him until he was naked to be observed. Lewis smiled into the kiss, and he hoped the unspoken words were received.

He suspected Lewis knew the hidden meaning beneath his words. Perhaps he was satisfied enough to hear a confirmation without saying it, perhaps he liked creating his own narration so unsaid words wouldn't tear him apart.

The low hum of overplayed pop music and scraping of utensils against ceramic dishes was enough. Being next to each other was enough. Just a simple I love you was enough.

Because all that really mattered was they had each other.

A/N: You got enough cheese on your pizza?