The gun goes off.
Pop!
Pop!
Sergio feels it in his bones. The booming sound of the gunshots echoing in his head, reverberating in the fragile walls of his beating heart.
He startles, waking up with a breathless gasp that dies on his lips, his heart about to jump out of his throat, as if it's trying to escape his body and outrun the violence of these memories.
He closes his eyes, still trembling. The room is bathed in moonglow, a warm breeze making the sheer curtains dance in front of the open window.
Raquel shifts next to him in bed, sighing softly.
And suddenly he can breathe again.
Relief washes over his whole body, enough to make him queasy when mixed with the adrenaline still pumping through his veins.
He looks at her and it feels impossible.
To have her near.
To have her, still.
He's always been a man of science and logic, plans, calculations, and schematics, facts and figures.
Until she came brimming with grit and ardor, overthrowing every speck of certainty, infusing his world with warmth and color.
Sergio's eyes roam over her body, drinking her in, dazzled by her silken hair spread over the pillows, curves barely covered by tangled sheets, soft skin sun-kissed and golden.
Her chest rises and falls in a gentle rhythm, and just looking at her, so precious and somehow unscathed, Sergio can't help but feel as if he's witnessing nothing short of a miracle.
She's right here, body thrumming with signs of life, tangible and real, close enough to touch.
His hand, compelled by an irresistible force, reaches for her, trembling with anticipation. The urge to touch her is overpowering, and the emotions blossoming in his chest are an intoxicating mix of skepticism, wonder, and a powerful surge of desire.
Under his touch, featherlight and brief as it may be, Raquel stirs.
Then, as if guided by a magnetic attraction even amidst the mists of sleep, her body seeks his, molding itself to a perfect fit, dispelling any semblance of distance between them.
Sergio closes his eyes, savoring her warmth as it spreads itself like wildfire wherever skin meets skin, thawing his defenses, turning his fears into ashes.
So close.
He had been so close to losing her.
At the edge of a precipice he stumbled when the exploding sounds of gunshots hit him, bringing him to his knees, shredding his will to keep going, leaving him wrecked and bereft.
So close.
So close she is now, that her every breath seems to fill his own lungs with air and the sweet symphony of her sighs and murmurs bring him closer to a state of grace, chasing away the bitter taste of his darkest memories.
Sergio never claimed to know love before.
Lines written in books and poems had been abstract and foreign. The feeling his brother had so many times described in passionate rants had seemed intemperate and jarring.
He didn't necessarily discredit its existence; there were clearly too many accounts of it throughout history and time for it to be a case of collective delusion. But the very concept had felt as far-fetched to him as the theories revolving around the building of the Pyramids or Stonehenge.
And yet.
Allowing his lips to brush over her naked shoulder, he inhales the familiar scent of her, basking in the surge of affection and the telltale signs of want, a constant in her presence.
How could this feeling be anything else?
Even the most exquisite sonnets ever crafted by men — from Shakespeare to Neruda — pale in comparison to the emotions he experiences simply by being at her side.
"Cariño," her voice – hoarse with sleep – is barely more than a whisper, but it seizes his heart with unmeasured strength.
Eyes still closed, her hand reaches for him, cupping his cheek as he instinctively presses a kiss to her palm. "Bad dreams?"
He feels the words lodge in his throat, and can't seem to find the will to push them out – afraid of what else might spill out if he can't control it.
Instead, he offers a slight shake of his head in a quiet attempt to ease her worries.
"You should get back to sleep," his voice rumbles against her skin, making her shiver.
He ought to know better.
Raquel turns to him, ensconcing herself in his embrace, her eyes adjusting to the soft overtones of what will soon be dawn, an inquiring expression crossing her features as her fingertips ghost over the lines of his face.
Brown eyes – fully awake now – study him closely, unraveling all that remains unspoken effortlessly, reading him as easily as ink on paper.
Her brow furrows, and he feels exposed under her gaze, unable to conceal his turmoil or shield her from his fears and faults.
She sees right through him, in ways no one else ever has.
And for some reason – something Sergio can't wrap his head around despite his best efforts – what she finds in the raw depths of his soul doesn't make her pull away; instead, it only seems to draw her closer, blurring the lines of where he ends and she begins.
Losing himself in her eyes, he wonders how he managed to live so long without such a fundamental piece of himself. And with gunshots still echoing in his ears and the shadow of irrevocable loss lingering on nights like this, he knows for a fact he wouldn't be able to survive it. Not really.
His body might persist, heart still beating, but he'd never again be whole—merely ruins of what he once was, like the remnants of a long-lost civilization unearthed at an archaeological site. All the life he'd have left in him reduced to dust.
With otherworldly softness, Raquel's thumb brushes against his lips; a single touch enough to bring him back from the depths of his thoughts.
The effect she has on him is formidable—an incongruous blend of overwhelming magnitude and insatiable longing. Sergio's eyes widen, and he inhales sharply, striving to rein in his emotions. Raquel, however, has other ideas.
With indisputable intent her hand glides up the curve of his neck, fingers sinking into his hair; nails grazing his scalp, guiding his lips closer to her eager mouth.
As her lips meet his, the taste of her ignites something deep within Sergio —a flame fueled by a sudden rush of oxygen; The world around them fades into oblivion, and he loses all capacity for coherent thought, surrendering to the urge to explore her heated skin and swallow whole her every sigh and moan.
As his eyes flutter closed, Sergio parts his lips wider, welcoming her teasing tongue. When Raquel lets out a long, low moan,it dissolves all that's left of his restraint, prompting him to lose himself in her rather than in his own thoughts.
In the silence of their room, Sergio feels his heartbeat speed up, each pulse erratic, the rush of blood ringing in his ears, leaving him dizzy and lightheaded. His once gentle touch becomes a firm grasp, fingers digging into her skin as if anchoring himself to her. Raquel smiles against his lips, then deepens the kiss, gently biting his lower lip, savoring his familiar taste, eliciting a shattering moan.
Then, just as suddenly as it started, Raquel breaks the kiss, dark eyes never leaving his as both gasp for tilts her head slightly, her eyes narrowing as if searching for something.
Sergio, confused as to her intent, mirrors her expression. But feeling self-conscious under her focused gaze, he's the first to break.
"What?", he murmurs with a flicker of unease.
She hums softly, cradling his face in her hands. Her expression shifting as soon as she seems to find what she was seeking.
"There," she whispers, planting a gentle kiss on his lips, satisfaction making her eyes glimmer. "Just you."
Sergio's brow furrows in confusion. She lets out a long sigh, knowing all too well he won't be able to just let it go.
"I just wanted to see," She offers simply, brushing her thumbs over his dimples.
His expression remains blank. Raquel shrugs, "you know, make sure the ghosts were gone."
Realization dawns on Sergio's face, prompting him to lower his gaze, unable to meet Raquel's eyes.
As much as he has tried to keep some things to himself, not wanting to burden her with more of his troubles, of course La Inspectora wouldn't just let it slide.
It was stupid of him to even try.
She strokes his beard, patiently waiting for his reaction.
"I'm sorry." He utters; his expression defeated.
Raquel squints at him. It must be the wrong thing say.
She shakes her head, making sure she's within his line of sight when she says, "Mi amor, you have nothing to apologize for."
He scoffs, eyes glistening despite his best efforts. But Raquel's voice sharpens, cutting right through his self-reproach.
"Sergio, you don't," she leans in until their foreheads touch and with her eyes closed and all the sincerity she can muster, she insists, "You never have to apologize."
She kisses him softly, as if to punctuate the sincerity of her words. "Never for this."
Sergio nods quietly, pulling her into his arms and kissing her temple.
He isn't sure how long they stay like this, close enough to feel each other's heartbeats, finding solace into each other's arms.
When he finally manages to find his voice again, he half expects her to be asleep.
"Thank you," he whispers into her hair, kissing it as he pulls her impossibly closer and the first rays of sun tinge the sky, chasing the night away.
Raquel nestles her face into the curve of his neck, her hand tracing soothing patterns on his chest.
"Anytime." He hears her say, voice muffled against his skin.
"You do have interesting methods." He remarks with a hint of a smile. Though he can't see it, he still feels her smile against his neck.
"You liked that, didn't you?"
"Claro que sí," he admits, sliding his hand down her shoulder to toy with the tips of her hair.
She smirks and then presses an open-mouthed kiss to the tender skin just above his ear. Sergio hums in response, his skin erupting in goosebumps.
"What—what's that for?" He stutters, feeling her smirk widen.
"Just making sure I have more guns in my arsenal," he feels her nose rubbing against his beard, her hand traveling down his chest, nails scratching the sensitive skin along the way. "One never knows when and where they might be needed." She remarks, pressing a kiss to his jaw.
"Well, perhaps I may be of some assistance," he mumbles, just before having his lips captured by her in a simmering kiss.
With confidence, Raquel straddles him, sheets pooling at her waist, exposing her skin to the gentle breeze wafting through the window. Sergio's eyes follow her every move, mesmerized by the sight of her.
He's long ceased trying to understand why, in a world rife with injustices, he is grantedthis—this woman, this feeling he can't begin to describe. Though not a superstitious man, he can only attribute it to sheer luck, the closest to an answer he can think of.
Raquel must see it in his face —in the way he can't take his eyes off her, how he can't seem to keep his hands away, how she awakens in him something he never believed to be possible. A side only she ever gets to see.
Whatever it is, it's reflected in the gleam of her eyes, her playful smile, and the way she leans into his touch.
"I like the way you think,Profesor," she purrs, just before leaning in to capture his lips once more.
Sergio offers no resistance.
She's really here, he thinks, melting into her kiss.
Feeling her weight on top of him, one hand stroking his beard, the other pressed over his heart, it's impossible to ignore how real and solid she is.
She's here, and so is he. And while bad dreams and bitter memories may still haunt his nights, with her by his side, no darkness can prevail.
The end.