Heer
The night had fallen, but I couldn't sleep. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the quiet of the house pressing down on me like a weight. Carlos and I had come to some kind of understanding, but I still wasn't sure if that understanding was enough to bridge the gap between us.
It had been weeks since our last conversation. Since I had asked him to fight for us. Since he had agreed to try. But despite his words, despite the small gestures that said he was willing to open up, I could still feel the walls around him. The fear. The hesitation.
And I was scared. Scared that despite everything, we were still miles apart. That no matter how hard we tried, our differences, our worlds, would continue to tear us apart.
I sat up in bed, pulling the covers around me tighter. The house was eerily silent, the only sound the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing.
I needed answers. I needed to understand what was going on in his head. What he was thinking.
And so, I made a decision.
I stood up, my feet cold against the floor, my mind racing as I moved through the darkened halls of the mansion. I knew where Carlos would be—locked away in his study, surrounded by papers, dealing with business that I couldn't even begin to comprehend. It had become his refuge, his escape. The place where he hid from everything—especially me.
I reached the study and knocked softly on the door. There was no answer, just the sound of papers rustling. I opened the door slowly, peeking inside.
Carlos was sitting at his desk, his back to me, his face illuminated by the soft glow of a lamp. The weight of the mafia world seemed to hang on his shoulders, his posture slouched with exhaustion. But it wasn't just physical exhaustion—it was emotional. I could see it in the way his shoulders tensed every time he made a move, in the furrow of his brow, in the hollow look in his eyes.
I stepped inside quietly, closing the door behind me. His head snapped up at the sound, and his eyes met mine for the first time in what felt like forever. There was a long pause, an unspoken tension hanging between us.
"I didn't mean to interrupt," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "But we need to talk."
Carlos didn't respond immediately. He just stared at me for a long moment, as if trying to gauge my intentions. He ran a hand through his hair, and I saw the pain etched into his face.
"What is it, Heer?" he asked, his voice sounding tired, worn.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady the nerves that were threatening to betray me. "I need to understand, Carlos. I need to understand why you're shutting me out. Why you're pushing me away. I need to know what's going on in your head."
Carlos's face hardened slightly at my words. I could see the guard go up around him again, the same mask he wore to hide his vulnerability. He turned away from me for a moment, his hand gripping the edge of the desk as though holding on to something steady in a storm.
"I don't want to drag you into my world, Heer," he said finally, his voice low, almost inaudible. "I don't want you to see what I've done. What I've become."
"You don't have to tell me everything, Carlos," I replied, my voice soft but firm. "But you can't keep pretending like this isn't affecting me. You can't keep pretending like we're fine when we're not."
Carlos sighed deeply, standing up from the desk and turning to face me. He ran his hand over his face, as if trying to erase the fatigue that had been settling deep into his bones. "It's not that simple. You don't know the things I've had to do. The choices I've made. The people I've hurt."
I could hear the bitterness in his voice, the guilt that weighed him down. He looked at me, his eyes filled with something I couldn't quite place. Pain? Regret? But there was also something darker there, something that made my chest tighten with fear.
"Carlos," I said, my voice shaky now, "I don't need you to explain every single detail. I just need you to tell me what this is. What we are. Are you willing to fight for this? For us? Or are you too consumed by your past to even try?"
He stepped closer to me then, his expression unreadable. His gaze was intense, like he was searching for something in me—something he needed to find. "I've been fighting this for so long, Heer. Fighting myself, fighting the past, fighting the man I am. I've made too many mistakes. Too many things that can't be undone."
"Then fight for something that can be fixed," I pleaded, my voice breaking. "Fight for us. For this."
There was a long pause, and for a moment, I thought he wouldn't answer. He seemed lost in his own world, trapped in his own thoughts. But then, slowly, he reached for my hand, his fingers trembling slightly as he intertwined them with mine.
"I'm scared, Heer," he said, his voice raw and vulnerable in a way I had never heard before. "I'm scared that I'll lose you. That I'll ruin this, like I've ruined everything else."
I could feel the truth in his words, the weight of the fear he carried with him. And in that moment, I realized something—he was still holding on to the idea that he wasn't worthy of love. That he wasn't worthy of me.
I placed my other hand on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath my palm. "Carlos," I whispered, "you've already made the hardest choice. You've already chosen me. And I choose you. I choose us. All I need is for you to stop running from the past and fight for the future. For our future."
He closed his eyes, his grip tightening on my hand as if he was afraid I would disappear.
"I don't know how to fight without hurting you," he confessed.
"You won't," I said gently. "You won't hurt me if you fight with me. We'll fight together."
For the first time, I saw something shift in his eyes—something that had been missing for so long. Hope. The tiniest spark, but it was there. And in that moment, I realized that maybe, just maybe, we could rebuild from the ruins of our past.
Carlos's voice broke through the silence again, but this time, it was filled with something softer, more certain. "Okay," he whispered. "Okay, I'll fight. I'll fight for us."
Carlos
I had been running for so long. Running from the choices I had made, from the man I had become, and from the life I had created. I thought that by keeping Heer away from my world, I was protecting her. But now, standing here with her hand in mine, I realized I had been wrong.
I couldn't keep running. Not anymore.
I had to fight. For her. For me. For us.
I didn't know how long it would take, or what the future would hold, but I knew one thing—I wasn't ready to let her go. Not again. Not ever.
"I'll fight, Heer," I promised, my voice stronger now. "I'll fight for us."
And this time, I meant it.