julien

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There are some secrets, which do not permit themselves to be told.

'The Man of the Crowd'
[Edgar Allen Poe]

♡ ♡ ♡

7: JULIEN

When Rory handed Lalo the letter, the colour drained from his face. He looked as cold, dead, and white as the stone statues. Rory thought he was going to pass out.

"So, do you have friends in New Mexico?" Rory asked lightly.

Lalo was frozen in place, lips parted, eyes wide with fear and dread. He gulped, nodding slowly, "Yeah."

"Well, open it then." Rory prompted, nudging him playfully.

"I'll open it later. I-I've got a lot of work to do."

Rory watched him cautiously, and then nodded in understanding, "I get it, it's personal." He said, arms raised in surrender as he backed away, "I'll see you at the house for dinner later. I'm making paella."

"Sounds good." Lalo murmured, his eyes still focussed on the envelope in his hands. His heart was beating faster than ever, throbbing violently in his chest, digging into his rib cage, and pressing on his lungs. He was panicking, sweating, hot, flustered, scared. An icy cold rush terror crashed through his body, leaving his legs weak and mouth dry. He couldn't breathe. He would surely pass out any second. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He muttered, collapsing onto the grass as Rory disappeared back into the house.

He studied the New Mexico stamp. The outline of a rocky mountain covered in dry shrubs, sitting alone in a desert. The landscape was familiar. He'd driven through that very desert a million times. He'd seen people die in that desert.

That desert was his home for nineteen years.

He couldn't understand how this was possible. He was so careful. He'd made sure that there was no way for them to track him down. He moved all the way to Europe, blended into the busy city life of Madrid, and then for extra precaution, moved to an abandoned mansion in the middle of nowhere. He couldn't be further from home, from everything he once knew, and everything he was trying to forget. And yet, despite his efforts, they had found him. And they were coming.

He thought of Rory. Of his pretty green eyes and warm, gentle smile. He thought about Rory's honesty, his sensitivity, his kindness. Rory had been his truthful, unfiltered self, and all he received back was lies, lies, lies.

Lalo hated himself for it. Rory didn't deserve that.

And now Lalo was going to have to leave. He would have to abandon everything he'd built; trust, community, friendship, happiness. The one place he had ever really felt at home. It was cruel of the Earth to have gifted him something so beautiful, only to take it away so suddenly. Maybe karma did exist. Maybe this is what he got in return for the life he had led, the people he had hurt.

He didn't read the letter. He wasn't going to. If they knew where he was, that meant they were on their way. They could be here in days, weeks, maybe even months. But someone was coming, that much he was sure of.

It would be Julien. It had to be Julien.

But Lalo had a plan. He would eat dinner with Rory, just like any other night. They would talk about philosophy and music, they would laugh about silly tales of the haunted house, and they would tell stories about their past lives — like usual, Lalo's memories would be fabricated. Everything would be as it always had been.

When dinner finishes, the boys say their goodnights, and Lalo sees the light in Rory's bedroom go off, he would leave. Lalo was willing to cycle all night, get on an early morning train, and head to an airport on the other side of the country. He would get a flight with multiple connections, stopping off in as many countries he could to blur his path, and then find a quiet corner of the world to settle in. Maybe one of the islands off Thailand. He'd always wanted to go to Asia.

He would have to change his name again. Get new documents made, a new birth certificate, passport, the whole lot. It was expensive last time. Criminals aren't cheap.

He swallowed hard and tried to suppress the tears that threatened to fall. He didn't want to leave. He hadn't watched the garden bloom with the seeds he'd sown yet, he hadn't had enough time with Carmelita yet, he hadn't found Uriel yet. There was still so much left to do, so many stories Rory hadn't told him, so many books at the village library he hadn't read, so many conversations with Josefina he hadn't had. He didn't want to leave Rory. He was the only real friend he'd ever had, and he wasn't willing to give him up.

But if he stayed, he would be putting them both in danger. He couldn't do that to him. It wasn't fair.

He left his tools there, tucked the letter into his pocket and retreated to his hut. Ripping his home apart was like tearing his heart and soul out of his body. He stuffed everything in reach into his suitcase, before gathering the folder of doctored documents he kept under his bed and cramming it into his backpack. All he could think about was how Rory was going to react in the morning. Would he be sad, angry, frustrated? Would he think that Lalo never cared about him?

"What are you doing?"

Lalo flinched at the sound of Rory's voice, then glanced up to see him stood in the doorway, a frown on his face. Lalo bit his lip in contemplation, looking around at the messy room and the suitcase open on the bed, "Reorganising."

Rory rose hs brows, "Reorganising?"

Lalo nodded, "Yeah, I though I'd use my suitcase for storage." He shrugged.

Rory appeared to believe the lie, "Well, I was just coming to see if you had any onions. I'm out."

Lalo shook his head, "Sorry." He apologised. Just looking into the depths of Rory's emerald eyes made him emotional. He'd never felt connected to anyone in his entire life. He had no parents, no relatives, no friends. But Rory felt like everything he needed.

"Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah." Lalo sniffed, realising he had started to cry, as he wiped his wet cheeks irritatedly.

"What's wrong?" Rory asked him gently, stepping out of the doorway and into the cramped room. His eyes were soft and calming, his voice low and reassuring. "Is it about the letter?"

"Yeah. I-It was from an old friend. It just made me really miss everyone back home, y'know?" He lied.

Rory smiled faintly, "You're lucky to have people you miss." He said, wrapping his arms around Lalo's slim frame, holding his body close to his. Lalo squeezed Rory back as hard as he could, knowing that this may be the last time they ever touched. He took in everything he could. His warmth, his smell, his hands cradling Lalo's back. Lalo didn't want the hug to end, so he buried his head in Rory's shoulder and cried into his chest. Soon, Rory's fingers found their way into Lalo's hair, and he combed through his silky dark locks, trying to comfort the boy.

Eventually, they pulled away, Lalo embarrassedly trying to wipe off his tears, "Thanks Rory."

"You could always have your friend from New Mexico come over to visit." Rory suggested.

Lalo nodded, "Yeah. Maybe he will." Or maybe he's already on his way.

"Dinner will be ready in half an hour." Rory informed him, "I don't know how good it will be, but there's always time to improve, right?"

Lalo smiled sadly, "I'm really looking forward to it, Rory."

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