A.N. Finally posting this Oleg/Teresa story I wrote a couple weeks ago. I'm addicted to Oleg and Teresa's chemistry and decided to write some unnecessary drama lol. This quick fic is loosely based on Episode 3x21. Wanted to write this in Spanish but my Spanish grammar is worse than my English grammar.
I'm also like 90 percent sure no one's going to see this because I didn't find much fandom for La Reina Del Sur, but that's okay. I just wrote this to satisfy my need for Oleg/Teresa, and if one person reads it, that's cool.
Dos Almas
How could she let him touch her?
Tessa…
Tears gathered in his gaze the longer he stood by the door, listening to the rustles of sheets and writhing voices lost in pleasure. Landero touching Teresa in the most intimate way, it tore him apart. Landero's hands all over her. Him inside her. He couldn't take it.
Oleg stormed to the kitchen, snatched a random set of keys off the counter and the bottle of vodka sitting next to Teresa's favorite tequila. He hurried to the front door, wiping away the tears that fell from his eyes with a couple quick swipes.
"Oleg?"
The front door slammed behind him.
Jonathan stood in the middle of the house, watching the door, not knowing what to do.
A muffled moan came from the other side of Landero's door. Oleg must've heard it and more. The keys and bottle in his hand weren't a good sign.
It was no secret Oleg loved Teresa. He was always there, taking her hand at the slightest sign of her unrest, and when she died, he lost himself completely. Teresa knew about her death and revival, but not about how Oleg clutched her as though his life depended on it.
She kept him at a distance, responded to him with the gratitude of a great friend but allowed another to win her heart.
A truck's engine roared to life and Jonathan ran out the door after Oleg, but the truck sped off before he could reach it, leaving only dust in its wake.
2 hours later
The sheets stuck gently to the sweat dried on her skin. The thought of a shower crossed her mind, but she lingered a while longer. She lay beside Landero and heard Oleg's voice in her head, telling her not to make another mistake with the wrong guy. The others didn't trust Landero but he tempted her curiosity, and gave her exactly what she needed in the moment, but, after it was over and the air settled, she still felt something missing.
Her thoughts drifted to that damp, dank cell in Colorado. It was always so suffocatingly warm, then, in an instant switched, and a cold draft would torture her for months. In her sleep, she saw his face and his smile that shined with gratitude. She dreamt of his embrace, of home—wherever that was— and his warm hands at her cheeks as he welcomed her back.
Along with a couple photos of Sofia, memories of him kept her going, then became her torment when the reality of her life sentence set in. She only had eighty-one years left…
Oleg's touch, it soothed her entire being. Around him, her doubts disappeared in their shared solidarity. She could be free for a while, like a normal person who wasn't wanted and chased by every gang, mob, and government.
A gun was constantly at her head, but with Oleg around she knew it would never fire.
They were…great friends. That explained her comfort with him. And after so many years, their friendship was too great to ruin. She couldn't fathom the loss of it. Him leaving her…he couldn't. That reality scared her more than she thought. She'd already lost him once. He took a bullet for her, and she got lucky, very lucky that he survived.
"Tessa…"
The sound of his last breath. Her name croaking and rasping from his throat. It endlessly haunted her when she thought she'd lost him for good. She'd never tell him, but her heart still sank when she thought about leaving him to bleed out on the floor of that hotel.
When would their luck run out? Would it be sooner? Or later? How much time did they have left before one of them paid the ultimate price?
Teresa blinked back her thoughts and the subtle emotion that gathered in her eyes. She stood from the bed and pulled her clothes back on, eyeing a missed call on her phone as she emerged from Landero's room. 'Oleg?'
Right, they were supposed to get together and come up with a plan to trap the Black Rider. She looked at the time of the call and her teeth clenched behind her lips. She sighed gently, remembering how she ignored the ringing phone. Oleg must've wondered where she was and called when he couldn't find her.
Maybe he was still awake, he hadn't been sleeping much anymore. The heaviness under his eyes was the first change she noticed after seeing him again for the first time in four years. While she rotted in isolation he'd been suffering, struggling the same as she, alone.
With a downward gaze she started to Oleg's room, meandering towards the kitchen, where light still showed in the dark. Someone must've left it on. She ran a hand through her hair, in no rush to reach his room. Hopefully, he wasn't awake.
She glanced over as she neared the kitchen and stopped in her tracks at a knowing gaze that tugged at her guilty conscience. Jonathan sat at the dining table, typing away on his laptop. He stopped the moment he saw her. Above him, a modest chandelier hung, and from it a warm glow emanated, warding off the shadows in her direction. The sight reminded her of a dim interrogation room, of sitting across from her captor, negotiating for her life while chained and bound. The seat across from Jonathan, she wouldn't take it for that reason. Too many bad memories.
"Why aren't you asleep?"
"…just couldn't." Jonathan said and looked down.
There was more he wasn't saying, but now wasn't the time to pry into his personal feelings. She was too tired to console him anyway.
She stopped beside his chair and put her hand on his shoulder, not needing to look in his eyes to know they felt the same way, alone together, both lost souls wandering the twilight hours like ghosts.
"What about you, Teresa?"
The house was too quiet. It stirred a sour intuition in her gut. She couldn't help but think that something wasn't right.
Landero was attractive, fed her desires and temptations, but she lay beside him more lost than ever.
"Is Oleg asleep?"
Jonathan said nothing and she looked over. He busied himself on the computer, purposely ignoring her. Standing right over him, it was impossible for him not to hear her.
"Jonathan—"
"Oleg's not here." He answered begrudgingly and she took her hand from his shoulder.
"What do you mean he's not here?" She faced him but he didn't meet her gaze.
"I couldn't stop him…"
Her brow furrowed at his cryptic words, but she'd check Oleg's room for herself before she questioned him further. She left Jonathan's side and walked to Oleg's room; a little more haste fueling her steps. At the door, she knocked but stopped when the doorknob easily gave to her twist. She opened the door, letting it swing open all the way. Beyond, just a dark, empty room. Her stomach flipped. He left? To where? Why? He wouldn't…He couldn't.
She walked back to Jonathan slowly as her mind processed the reality. The expression on her face neutral, she breathed carefully to steady her breaths, but her heart thumped in her ears with every powerful beat in her chest. She wouldn't sleep now.
"Where's Oleg?" She stopped, resting her hand atop the chair closest to her, at the table's end.
"He doesn't want to—"
"Where's Oleg?" Her tone clipped the air. Now was not the time to play games with her. She wouldn't respond well.
"…I don't know."
Her dark eyes stared right through him, and her brow furrowed tight. He glanced to her and shifted in his seat under the intensity of her gaze, and she looked away. He was being honest; he'd told her everything he knew. She pulled out her phone and dialed Oleg's number, turning her back to Jonathan as it rang. 'Pick up Oleg.'
The call went to voicemail and she tried again, that thump still pounding in her chest.
Voicemail again.
"He loves you, Teresa."
Those soft words crawled in the air behind her and she turned to Jonathan, who watched her with disappointment in his sullen gaze.
'He loves me…'
Where was that coming from? And why didn't it surprise her?
With a smirk emerging, she inwardly scoffed.
Jonathan knew she was with Landero, even before she walked out of the room. And that was okay. Her time with Landero wasn't planned to be discreet. It wasn't a secret rendezvous, but just the opposite, a completely spontaneous affair.
She held Jonathan's gaze, his eyes saying he'd heard more than he wanted to. Her lips pursed slightly and she glanced away, her guilt returning but—
A thought stopped her and a shudder rushed down her neck. If Jonathan heard something, did Oleg? Her expression fell and her brow tensed.
"Where is he?" She repeated the same words with more urgency, and Jonathan shook his head.
"He took one of the trucks…"
She looked to the kitchen nook behind Jonathan, a set of keys missing…along with Oleg's vodka. She swallowed the sour taste in her mouth. What did Oleg hear?
She hurried and grabbed the other set of keys off the counter, heading right for the door, still smelling Landero on her skin.
"Teresa, wait."
She stopped, silvery twilight shining through the window beside the front door.
"I think I can track him."
Finally, the images in his mind swirled and faded. He didn't have to think about her anymore. On the passenger seat, touched by moonlight, a forgotten handgun left behind by one of the others. His only company, how fitting.
He finished the bottle and sunk into the driver seat, his body heavy and his throat burning from how he drank as though the alcohol was the air he needed to breathe.
That was okay. Out here he could let go, no one would find him. In the morning he'd return. At first, it'd be hard to look into Teresa's eyes without seeing Landero, but he'd get used to it, and once again put her interests first despite his own. He'd never stop being her greatest ally, no matter if it ripped at his insides when she pushed him away and chose someone else.
A blur consumed his gaze and he gave into the darkness, letting the world close in.
