berseker: (Default)
[personal profile] berseker
Title: The Flying Heart of Love 14/?
Rating: ... Pgish, sort of. Maybe not.
Characters: In this chapter, Luciano, Martín, María, Alfred, Maddie and Sebas, mentions of many others.
Warnings: This is an AU, so you'll have to ignore everything you know about family relations and things from what passes for canon at Latin Hetalia. I MEAN IT. BE WARNED.

Recap: So, in the last chapter Martín made Luciano panic over his photos, and was subsequently sort of kicked from the hospital. Manuel found out that he’s Antonio’s son and María found out the American Wonder Twins are up to something and might know more than they’re telling. She tried to talk to Antonio, but that didn’t work too well, and if you’re trying to remember who’s Manuel’s adoptive father, stop right now because you don’t have that information yet. And that’s what you missed in TFHOL.

Also, thanks to Zu for reading it over for me :3


Episode 21


Ok, so Martín had said he wouldn't come back to the hospital, but that only meant he wouldn't try to invade Luciano's room, not that he wouldn't, you know, really go there anymore. Obviously. He wasn’t planning to give up just because he had made Luciano freak out. He was feeling bad about it, and he hated feeling bad about anything.

And he was. Really. He couldn’t get that fiasco out of his mind, and how lost Luciano looked and how hurt, and it felt like he was kicking a puppy even if Luciano had started it by leaving him like that after seducing him and with that kiss right before the match and all the needlessly harsh things he had said.

It didn’t make Martín feel any less terrible. So the next day he bought a bouquet of sunflowers and went there again.

“You’re shameless,” Sebastián said, flatly. “No, he's asleep. I shouldn't even take that thing-”

“Just tell him I sent it, alright? Come on, it's not like he's not getting flowers from everyone else.”

“That's the problem! We have enough to make a garden, and if I take flowers from anyone-”

“But I'm not just anyone!”

It took fifteen minutes, and all Martín’s powers of persuasion, but Sebastián finally caved. He took the flowers, and Martín was preparing to leave when María arrived.

“Just what I needed,” Sebastián grumbled.

She looked surprised to see Martín there. But then her face hardened, and Martín couldn't help the new pang of guilt. He hadn't even tried to fix things with her, had he? He was a terrible brother. And a terrible friend. And a terrible human being in general, and he should-

“Hi, you both,” she said, avoiding his eyes, and turning to Sebastián “Hey, Sebi. Do you think I could speak to Luciano? It's really important-”

“No I don't, and I think you both should get away, because I'm trying to work and after what Martín did, he probably won't want to see anyone for a while.”

Martín cringed. María scowled.

“Well, sorry, I was just asking. I wanted to say something important, alright? I don't know why everyone must snap at me for every little thing I say, especially if some people I’m not even talking to messed up, and-”

“Right, right,” Sebastián said, “I'm not trying to be rude here, I promise. It's just that you really can't visit, and I’ll be fired if I keep bending the rules for you. Both of you.”

“But you can ask him! If he says he wants to see me, then you can tell anyone who asks that this is none of your business, which, by the way, would be totally true.”

This made Martín raise his eyebrows. She was usually more charming than that – not as much as himself, of course, but pretty charming too – and today she wasn't even bothering. He was almost sorry for Sebastián.

Almost. Sebastián braced himself, and looked at her squarely in the eyes.

“Sorry, María, but no. I was just telling Martín, he's asleep. And he needs to rest. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Come on, Sebas, can't you see this is important? I just found out he's related to the hotel guy, and I need to know what's up with his aunt and Antonio won't tell me anything! I can- if I can't talk to him, can I at least talk to his father? When will he visit?”

“… you just found out what?”


She did her best to summarize it. Sebas could be an uncooperative jerk, but he was easy to talk to, and it was nice to have Martín paying attention. When she was done, Martín was staring at the wall, and Sebastián started to clean his glasses, like he always did when he was nervous or confused. Or both.

“So, Don Antonio and Luciano's father are brothers. That's so weird. Why don't they have the same last name?”

“Who knows? Maybe one of them decided to use their wives' last name. And you know Antonio. Maybe he changed his to escape his shady past.”

“What shady past?”

“He's being investigated by the two foreign secret agents that his own son hired to get that stupid watch. Well, the adoptive father of his own son, but whatever. That sounds pretty shady to me. Anyway, that’s not the point, the point is that the video really disturbed me and I was wondering, I mean, I want to find out more about it and it's not like I have people willing to listen to me.”

This made Martín cringe again. He turned to her with his wounded older brother haunted eyes, and she did her best to stare him down, not willing to feel guilty over his guilt.

“... right,” Sebastián said. Always the perceptive one. “I just- right. Ok. That's a lot of information.”

“Well, sorry. I wasn't going to share, but you forced me.”

“No, I mean- that's not- ok. I'll go back to work. Alright? Can I trust you two to find the door without exploding the hospital?”

María started to protest – she had told him all that so he’d let her talk to Luciano, after all, but Martín beat her to it.

“Don't worry,” he said, looking like he had to force himself to face them, and María found herself feeling guilty anyway. “We won't bother you anymore.”

“... I didn't say that,” Sebastián said, a little confused, “It's just that-”

But Martín didn't wait. He sort of staggered to the door, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

María tried to smile at Sebastián, because someone had to be normal here, and then ran after him, to make sure he wouldn't throw himself in the traffic. She might still be angry but, after all, he was her brother.


Sebastián watched them go, struggling between incredulity and the exasperation that was his normal feeling for... everything, basically.

Clearly, life at the orphanage had become more exciting since he had left.

That didn't surprise him. Sometimes he thought everything was more exciting without him.

And Antonio could go fuck himself.

… yes, that was a little random, so what? Sebastián believed every moment was fitting to wish ill on that man. Who had somehow managed to raise him for almost twenty years – he had arrived when he was four, or so he had been told – without memorizing his name. Or knowing who he was. Or what he liked. Or bothering to pretend he cared. So fuck him. Sebastián hoped his shady past would catch up with him, and the sooner the better.

He rubbed his eyes, then put the glasses back on. He needed to focus on what was important, not this... silly resentment. He didn't need Antonio to clear up the way for him, like he had done for Martín. He had made it for himself.

It just had cost him a little more than he had expected to pay.

Focus. He schooled his face back into the warm, amiable expression of always, and then went to the rest room. He checked first, to be sure that there was no one around, then got his cellphone.

“Speak fast and don't waste my time,” said the man on the other side, without as much as a hello first, “I have stuff to do.”

“It can wait,” Sebastián said, bracing himself, “But you told me to call if I had news for you.”

“... who's this?”

See? No one remembered him.

“Sebastián Artigas,” he said, with a long suffering sigh, “From the hospital? You told me to work for you or you'd sell my kidneys in the black market?”

“Sebastián! My little four-eyed friend! What can I do for you? Better yet, what can you do for me?”

He really, really hated this guy.

“You wanted to know about Luciano's family, right? So, his father is related to Antonio de La Vega. From the Orphanage. And there's something about a watch, but that part was confusing.”

So unlike the rest of this mess, he thought, but didn't say it. There was a sharp intake of breath on the other side, and then a long pause. When the man spoke again, he didn't sound half so crazy. He sounded torn between being excited and very upset.

“Sebastián. Remember when you first told me about him? And how you swore he didn’t have any family?”

“I didn’t know! I’m surprised, and- why is that important anyway?”

“Antonio De La Vega. De La Vega, really? Not Carriedo? Or maybe you don’t know that either and will be surprised too?”

“I’m sorry, he doesn’t talk about his personal life to me,” Sebastián said, wounded, “And I don't know, he might have changed. He's running from something. The other guy is Henrique da Silva. He comes here sometimes.”

“Well. That’s good news. Awesome, even. Where's he's staying at? I might want to visit.”

“No idea. He vanishes when he leaves. Luciano doesn't know either. I heard him asking, and the man won't talk.”

“Of course. He's much too clever for that. Of course. Great job, four-eyes! You’re not completely useless!”

“Erm- does this mean-”

“Patience is a virtue, my friend. And so is watching that guy to tell me where he is or when he'll be back so I can talk to him personally. And then we'll discuss your reward.”

“Discuss? But you said I'd be-”

The man hang up.

“Free,” Sebastián finished, to the empty line. He turned off his phone, and tried to hold back the disappointment. This should be easy enough. And then... assuming the man wasn't lying... or tricking him... then this would end. Finally.

For now, time to go back to work.

When he opened the door, he was suddenly face to face with Jake, the impressively tall new guy, who seemed just about to knock.

It was so unexpected that he almost shrieked. But he managed to turn it into a manly and dignified squeak.

“Sorry,” Jake said, beaming down at him, “Where the hell have you been, mate? I've been looking everywhere for you!”

“It's ok,” Sebastián said, trying to get his heart back to a regular pace, “I was just… you know. Here. What did you want?”

“Want? Oh, nothing. Just wondering where you were. So. Let's go back.”

“... Right.”

At least this would distract him from what he was being forced to do.


Episode 22


“It's just that- how is this even possible? He's rich and famous and popular and now he's related to my- to Antonio too? Why is this happening to me?”

“On the other hand,” María said, biting the straw in her glass, “He's stuck in a hospital. That should make you happy.”

But she regretted it right away, because Martín gave her his heartbroken sad kitty eyes, like he couldn’t understand why she’d be so mean to him in a moment like this, and she sighed.

“Alright, sorry, but I think you're missing the point here, Antonio is hiding something and I don't-”

“He's always hiding something.”

Martín crossed his arms on the table, and then hid his face. María bit her straw again, and tried to think.

It was impossible, with Martín being a drama queen right in front of her. And she was tired. If he started crying, she’d cry too.

“Will you stop that? You should be helping me to find out things, alright? I know he's hiding something, but why? You should be curious! Why don't you want to know his dark secrets?”

He raised his eyes to her, but didn't change the position.

“He has a right to his privacy, María. If he doesn't want us to know...”

“Since when you care about rights?”

He hid his face again.

María pouted at his… well, at his hair, since he wasn’t looking. She knew Martín well enough to guess what was going through his head, and she had felt something very similar too. It was better not to know, because then they could pretend. They could believe what they wanted.

It felt unfair – even if it wasn't – that Antonio had a family somewhere, of people he never visited, people who never visited him, unfair that he was someone's uncle and someone's father when they had wanted it so much to be his children for real, when they had dreamed so much about it.

She was glad she didn't have Martín's depressive tendencies, really. This was bad enough as it was.

“Fine, let's talk about something else. Why Sebastián said that? What did you do to Luciano?”

“... nothing.”

“Come on.”

“Nothing! He overreacted.”

“Did you make him cry?”

“No. Well, maybe. And he tried to run away from the hospital. But it wasn't my fault. Not all of it, anyway. I can’t believe his father is...”

He paused, and sighed too. María, who was sure he'd been about to say 'our uncle', patted his head.

“Let's not talk about that,” Martín sighed. “I should... I'm sorry. I never got around to apologizing to you, but I think I-”

“Don't bother, you were right. Alfred was hiding something. He's a secret agent.”

As she had just mentioned to Sebastián, but Martín had missed it because he was busy having a private breakdown. She was forced to explain it to him and, to her surprise, this made Martín wake up. He finally sat straight, frowning as she explained.

“Well, that explains why Luciano was bugging me so much about that watch. Now I wish I had taken a closer look.”

“I don't remember anything special about it. It looked tacky, if you ask me.”

“Do you remember the brand?”

“Of course not.”

Martín nodded. He picked a napkin, and tried to reproduce it. María found herself paying attention to it, in spite of herself. When they had the closest possible to a faithful depiction, Martín shoved it in his pocket.

“I think I'll take a look into it,” he said. “Then we'll see what the American weirdo wanted with this. We can ask Manuel too, since this is all his fault anyway. Do you want to go with me? Research is not exactly exciting, but-”

She held his hand, her fingers intertwining with his. She didn't say a word.

Martín looked at their hands, then sighed deeply, and then finally said:

“And we’ll see what we can find about Antonio and this Italian singer of yours. And who was the weird guy Maddie was talking to. I've had enough of these secrets.”


She had imagined something like having to break into old basements and people’s houses, finding old boxes of... stuff, full of clues and other interesting things. So María was a little disappointed when they went back to Martín's apartment to play hacker.

At least he had ice-cream.

Finding the song by what she remembered of the lyrics was easy, but it didn't help anything. And Martín didn't seem to share her emotional reaction, either.

“You should have seen that woman,” she said, with her mouth full of strawberry ice-cream, “Then you'd see what I mean.”

She had no idea what he was doing, actually. Or why it was taking that long. After a while, she turned on the tv, and then turned off again when they started to talk about Luciano da Silva’s imminent death.



“I'm bored.”

“Go to bed. I'll wake you up if I find anything.”

“But I'm really really bored.”

He didn't even answer.

After at least forty minutes, when she was about to throw herself out of the window, he finally gasped, and then he made a long pause as María got up to see what he had found.

“That's her,” she said, and then pointed at the screen. “That's- oh my God, you did it! How?”


He paused again. The picture of the Italian woman – older, with wrinkles around her mouth and in the corner of her eyes, and looking even sterner than in Luciano's video – was there in full screen, and María felt that same pull at her heart from before. She put her arm around Martín's shoulders, resting her cheek against his hair.

He patted her hand. Then, after a long time, he finally said.

“Her name is Lovina, and she was in South America almost two decades ago, but in Chile, and then in Venezuela. It says she lost her husband and her baby, and then she had this... mental breakdown, or something, and had to be hospitalized for years.”

“... oh.”

“Her husband was Antonio Carriedo.”

“Do you think that's our Don Antonio? And he left her for some reason so she went crazy and now he can't find her and their son?”

“I don’t know. There’s not much about him… not if you go by De La Vega, anyway. Carriedo was a criminal. But our Antonio, it says here, had a quiet life in the countryside, always worried about the little orphan children, decided to make an orphanage, all the stuff we already know, so… if they’re the same person, he made a good job of hiding it.”

“Except for keeping his first name.”

“Well, yes, but that’s the kind of dumb thing he would do. And anyway it’s a very common name. And he has some sort of connection with this Henrique guy. Just… it doesn’t say they’re brothers anywhere. But he made some donations to the orphanage.”

“That’s… suspicious.”

“Maybe. Yes. It is. But I have no idea how this comes together. Anyway Antonio could have found her if he wanted to, because now she's kinda famous, she has a-”

“Lingerie line. She's a designer. Right?”

Martín turned to her.

“Other kind of clothes too,” he said, very surprised, “But yes. How did you know?”

“Alícia mentioned it. Apparently, Maddie did some modeling for her.”

They were silent for a long time.

And then Martín finally said:

“What the hell does that even mean?”

María had to admit she had no idea.


The next day, Martín went back to the hospital. It wasn’t, like María had said, so he could bully Luciano again, it wasn’t even to try to make amends. If Maddie and CO were still lurking around – and he had reasons to believe they were, he had heard her talking to someone a few days before - he had to at least check to make sure Luciano was safe. He was being a hero, actually. Plus, all the research from yesterday had given him a piece of information that he just had to share.

He hadn’t thought too hard about what he’d do if Luciano refused to see him. He didn’t want to think about that.

He practically had to beg, but finally Sebas agreed to go ask if Luciano would see him. Sebastián looked perplexed when he returned.

“Did he say yes?”

“Not exactly. He asked if you came to apologize.”

Martín snorted.

“Ask him if he liked the flowers.”

Sebastián scowled, but he went to the room again. He came back after a few minutes.

“He said you didn't answer his question. Come in, I can’t waste my time with you two.”

Martín followed him to the room.

Luciano tried to smile when he entered, and failed so miserably that Martín almost cringed. He still looked terrible, but that wasn’t the worst part. He looked… well, broken. Lifeless and dull, it was like he was surrounded by a cloud of sadness.

On a brighter note, the flowers from yesterday were right there on his nightstand.

Martín heard when Sebastián closed the door. For a second, he considered running after him.

“So,” he said, “I hope you like sunflowers.”

“You said you’d stop coming.”

“Yes, but I just meant I’d ask before barging in.”

“Of course.”

“Why did you let me in?”

“Why sunflowers?”

“Why did you let me in?”

Luciano looked away. Martín would feel a lot better if he didn’t look so damn sad, it felt like he was about to cry. So he sat down – because he wasn’t going to let himself be kicked out so fast no matter what happened - and tried not to sound too deflated.

“I’m not sure. Yellow flowers make me think of you. I just thought it was fitting.”

There was a long, awkward pause, and then Luciano looked at him again.


Martín nodded.

Luciano looked at the flowers.

“Well, that’s nice.” Then, after another long silence, he said, “I wasn't using you. You were using me.”

“I wasn't planning to sleep with you. And you left me.”

“What did you think, that I was going to propose?”

And he wasn’t even </>trying to hurt. He was just saying it. Martín sucked in his breath and, when he could speak again, he said:

“And that’s supposed to make it better?”

“I didn’t lie to you, that’s what I’m saying. And I was drunk and you went along with it to find stuff about me. It's not like you can claim the higher moral ground, you know.”

“And the crap you pulled at the locker room, how about that? What’s the excuse?”

“You did the same to me after that?”

There was another heavy silence.

“But it doesn’t matter,” Luciano said, “I just wanted to clear up some things.”

“I see. So, should I leave now?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know what’s your problem, you’re so- so weird, you brought me flowers and now you’re-”

“I wanted to talk to you! I came here just for that, but you keep... doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“This! This thing you're doing, you keep trying to make me mad, and- just cut it out!”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” he said. Then he looked away again, pressing his lips in a pout. “Everything between us keeps going wrong all the time. But you brought me flowers, even if you hate me, and you have a color for me, and I don’t get it. Why did you come?”

“Because I remember you.” Since this was going all wrong anyway, he might as well just say it. “I was checking the old newspapers, from the- uh, I guess I never told you, right? About the orphanage?”

“I might have heard about it.”

“... who told you? Sebastián or María?”

Luciano didn't answer. He just stared.

“Right, right. It doesn't matter. I was checking the news from the opening, see, and there was a big party, and you came for some reason, and... I was four or five, I don't remember the details, but-”

Luciano's eyes widened. He even sat a little straighter.

“Wait a minute. That was you?”


María had theoretically gone to school.

That was what Martín had assumed, anyway.

What she did instead was to call Don Antonio, who didn’t pick up, and leave a message telling him she’d spend the day with Martín again. This way, he wouldn’t worry about her until tomorrow.

Or until he had an insanity attack. Then he’d start calling Martín to ask if she was ok, and then she’d be in trouble, but that was a problem for later. She had always wondered why he was so weird. It made more sense, now that she knew he was hiding dark secrets.

Or what she assumed would be dark secrets. Martín hadn’t found them yet, but she was sure he would.

Her plan for now was to sit in front of the hospital, hidden from the door so he wouldn’t see her there when he came out, and wait until something interesting happened. He had said Maddie was there being suspicious, right? And María had met Alfred right there the other day, so they were bound to come back. And then she’d tell them exactly what she thought of them.


“I thought it was someone’s birthday, I forgot what it was about. I remember you were sulking, or maybe you already hated me-”

“Listen, I really don't hate you-”

“And then I gave you cats, right? I remember that. I thought it was weird, because I had a dog back then, and I thought it didn’t make sense giving cats to someone if I had a dog. I was always thinking stuff like this when I was a kid, my dad always said I didn’t make any sense. Anyway, I gave them to you. I liked you.”

“You weren’t supposed to give them to me. Did they tell you that? You should have given them to one of the girls. But you walked straight to me, and then I thought they were mine, so I picked the names and all and didn’t ask anyone. I think they still resent that. Of course, now it doesn’t matter anymore, because we have a million cats. I- just – how the hell did that happen?”

“They tend to breed,” Luciano said, smiling weakly. “I had this memory for a long time and then sometimes I’d think about asking my father what was going on, and what was the event anyway, but I never got around to do it and then when the nurse said that, about your- about the orphanage, I didn't even think. You look just the same. I mean, no, of course, but you’re still you. Your eyes are the same. I liked you. I liked you a lot. I had this sort of crush on you for months after that.”

“I liked- I missed you. I think. Antonio said I spent weeks asking when you'd come back to play with me. I think I just assumed we were friends.”

“I guess I ruined that by now,” Luciano said. It wasn’t a question, but it felt like one. His voice sounded anxious, almost desperate.

Suddenly, Martín’s hands seemed very interesting. He stared at them.

“No,” he said, “Maybe not. Yet. Did I?”

“No,” Luciano said. “Maybe not.”

Then they didn't know what to say, or where to look, and it hurt Martín's pride that he was feeling so awkward and shy in front of someone he had slept with. So, to prove a point, he held his hand.

Luciano looked up, surprised and a little touched, and then squeezed it lightly.

Ok, this hadn't made it any better, now they were awkward and shy and holding hands. And, he couldn’t help but noticing, Luciano’s skin was marred and swollen, maybe from the stunt he had pulled with the needle yesterday.

Luciano laid his head back on the pillow, closed his eyes and sighed. He wasn't panting or anything, but it felt like he was trying to catch his breath anyway.

Martín frowned.

“So,” he said, trying to clear his throat, “Will you tell me what is your deal? Why are you even here?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m not going to write it. I’m just asking.”

“No, I mean it. I have no idea. As far as I know, there isn’t even a name for it.”

“For your disease? Come on. You just randomly pass out? Does it always hit after spending the night partying? Because-”

“No. I just randomly die.”

“... right.”

“That's how it works. I start dying. Everything stops working. We tried a million different treatments and I never responded to any of them, and then it sort of... stopped. It went away. I thought the same would happen this time, but then- I think I'm a little worse than usual. I hadn't-”

“No, you look fine,” Martín lied. Luciano shrugged.

“But dad would agree with your theory. He didn't let me do anything, because it might be triggering it, you should have seen him the day I tried to smoke. It was- but it’s not that. Or drinking. It’s not anything.”

“Of course not, I was just teasing you. That's- come on. Are you </>sure?”

“Ask the doctors. Better yet, ask my father, if he comes back.” He closed his eyes. “But you're helping, I think. I'm feeling better.”

For a second, Martín thought Luciano was being sarcastic. He didn't look better. At all. His voice sounded normal, but he was very pale and, now that Martín was looking for it, he looked more tired than before.

“Thank you, I have this effect on people. Here, let me help you.”

He let go of his hand, and ignored the way Luciano pouted at that. He fixed his pillow, and then the covers, and then, because they'd had sex, for fuck's sake, he combed his hair from his forehead.

“Not you too,” Luciano said, but he was smiling and he let Martín take care of him, his eyes strangely soft.

Martín smiled back, and pulled one of his curls, to save his reputation.

“I'm just helping you to rest. I wouldn't want you to keel over and die on my account.”

Thank you,” Luciano said, “That's the nicest thing you've ever done for me.”

He closed his eyes again. Then, when Martín was almost sure he was asleep, he added, in a very soft voice:

“Second nicest. The flowers were nicer.”


She was on her third ice-cream – milk and cookies with little bits of white chocolate – when Alfred and Maddie finally showed up.

They were dressed in dark suits, dark shoes and dark sunglasses, looking extremely out of place in front of the hospital. María considered following them to see what they were up to, and calling the police in case it turned out to be a bomb. She remembered her plans to become an international super spy. This was her chance to get started on that.

Sadly, María had zero inclination to become a spy. As she thought of following them, her hand was already making a tiny paper ball and when she decided to be subtle she was already throwing it at Alfred’s stupid blond head.

He turned to her, his lips splitting in a bright smile.

That died as soon as he saw her dark scowl.

“María? Is everything ok? What happened now? Did you get attacked by some weird white-haired dude?”

She saw Maddie rolling her eyes right behind him, and saved that for future reference. Right now there was something more important she had to address.

“Hey, sit down,” she said. Not that she had to invite them, he was already pulling a chair to himself. “And tell me what you two are doing here.”

“Oh, we were just walking around, to see-”

“Save it, Alfred!”

He stopped. Maddie, who was just sitting down too, cringed at her snappish voice.

For some reason, that made María even more annoyed.

“Look, I know you two lied, alright? And-” she turned to Maddie, “You should be ashamed, Alícia thought you were her friend!”

“I was! I mean, I am, I mean-” she looked pained, “It’s not what you’re thinking, María!”

“I’m not thinking anything! I’m trying to understand why you two decided to lie to me, of all people, why are you trying to destroy my father, and why are you trying to explode the hospital, why couldn’t you just stick to lingerie modeling?”

Alfred, who had been staring at her with round, surprised blue eyes, turned to Maddie.

“… lingerie?”

“Hm, this is really not the moment-”

“You said it were normal clothes. I mean, of course, it’s none of my business, I just think we need to have some standards here, and-”

“Oh, I see, you can pose as a NASCAR pilot and Jake can take all the field jobs even if he stands out like a gigantic sore thumb, but the one time I try to do a little thing for myself-”

“Stop talking to each other and talk to me!”

They looked back at María. Now both of them looked stricken – Maddie a little more than Alfred.

“It’s really not like you’re thinking,” Alfred said. “It’s just that- nothing is like you think it is, see? And we needed to investigate the orphanage.”

“So you won’t even try to deny it,” she said. Suddenly, she wasn’t even angry anymore. No, scratch that. She was still furious. It’s just that right this second, the sadness sort of engulfed it. “I thought you were my friend. And Alícia thought she could trust you. But you two did exactly what she said you’d do. You used us.”

“No!”Alfred tried to grab her hand, but María pulled it away. “It’s not like that, I swear. We couldn’t tell you the truth, that’s all, but we’re very close to finding out-”

“You did find out! You have the watch that you stole from Luciano, right? So now you can both go back to your countries and leave us alone!”

“No, it’s… a little bigger than that, you see-”

This time Maddie punched his shoulder.

“You see,” she said, “There’s more than one watch. We need to get Antonio’s-”

“Oh, come on!”

“No, trust me, he has one like that.”

“He doesn’t, I’d have seen it.”

“María, think. How much do you actually know about him?”

She stopped. They were right, she’d give them that. Not that it mattered much.

“That’s none of your business. He has the right to his privacy and-”

“What about your mother?” Alfred challenged her, “He has the right to keep her away from you?”

María stared at him.

It was one of the first times in her life she didn’t know what to say.

His eyes softened.

“I said you could ask me, if you wanted to know,” he said, “Didn’t I? I think you’re ready now.”


AN: What will Alfred say? Will Maddie ever get to wear disguises and have fun? Will Luci see the cats again? Will María and Martín find out about the lingerie line? Will Sebas-the-bitter-spy find love? Will the watch thing ever make sense? Find out all the answers in TFHOL!
Anonymous( )Anonymous This account has disabled anonymous posting.
OpenID( )OpenID You can comment on this post while signed in with an account from many other sites, once you have confirmed your email address. Sign in using OpenID.
Account name:
If you don't have an account you can create one now.
HTML doesn't work in the subject.


Notice: This account is set to log the IP addresses of everyone who comments.
Links will be displayed as unclickable URLs to help prevent spam.


berseker: (Default)

May 2015

10 111213141516

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 20th, 2017 08:17 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios