unpocoloco | Daybreak IC Inbox

Still look beautiful. Her smile turns a little dry at that. Only he would think so... but there's a part of her that's glad he still has that bias.

He suggests that she could visit, and she concedes to that. "I know... I'll keep that in mind." It's not the first time she's visited his room, and she's certain now that it won't be the last. They still have more time, after all.

She starts to disentangle herself from him, but before she pulls away completely, she leans in closer for a moment. While he might have resisted his own urge, she doesn't she the same restraint. A brief kiss is pressed to his cheek and she gives him a small smile as she pulls away.

"I'll only be a moment," she says as she heads for the shared bathroom door.

Anyone who doesn't think so is blind or a fool but he's happy to seem the wise one.

It's a maybe that she gives. He doesn't know whether to hope or not but he bobs his head. Either way he'll understand.

He's all but bracing for that coming distance, putting the moment to memory, when she does something he's not prepared for at all.

He feels her kiss on his cheek, short and sweet, and his breath pulls sharp. He hasn't a thought in his head as he stares, stunned. He's still frozen in place as she wanders off.

A few more minutes with her out of sight and his hand lifts to touch where she kissed. He's only just made it to the bed, tentatively pulling that guitar to his lap. There's a flushed look to him.

She realizes that she's surprised him as soon as she gives him that kiss. Truth be told, she's surprised herself a little as well. But she doesn't regret it, not even as she heads into the bathroom, leaving him speechless.

Inside, she uses the sink to splash water on her face, wiping away the tear streaks and leaving her feeling a little fresher. She holds a cold washrag over her eyes for half a minute, trying to bring down the puffiness. Finally, she fixes her hair back into it's usual form, pulling the braids out and redoing them to catch the strands of hair that had been pulled out of place. Once finished, she looks herself over, pleased to see that she looks much more put together. Almost as good as new.

It's only when she leaves the bathroom, feeling better than she had before, that the regret finally creeps slowly into her. Imelda finds him sitting on the bed again with the guitar in his lap and that look on his face. Like she's just shaken him to his core.

Her expression falters for only a fraction of a second. It was a mistake to think that she could do something so recklessly and not have it affect him this much. He might be happy with the affection, but she doesn't want to give him the wrong idea--or to imply that she's ready for something when she's still getting her feet under her. That would be cruel to him... and she's done enough of that already.

She fixes a smile back on her face, though more of a restrained one. "I was thinking of going to the banquet hall before heading back to Lumière. Do you want to join me?"

He doesn't manage to play anything more, his focus for that shattered, but he tunes the guitar mindlessly until she's out. He starts then smiles up at her. Almost looks like nothing happened.

He misses the way she falters, only catching her smile in return. He's prepared for goodbye, but she surprises him again.

"Yes! I mean, I would love to." He gets up, setting the guitar aside to take up his cane. Then he falters. "Ah, should I bring something? Paperwork? A textbook? I don't want to make you feel awkward if I sit there."

"You can bring something." If it means that he has something to do other than just sit there and stare at her, well... That's probably a good thing. Part of her isn't sure he'll mind, but it's true that it'd be a little less awkward for her.

Whatever he intends to grab, she'll wait for him patiently by the door. Though given his use of a cane, she adds "Would you like help carrying anything?"

He smiles and nods. For the best. He might want to sit there and stare at her but it's no good making her or anyone uncomfortable. It's a big enough deal that they'll be sitting by one another. Even for those that knew nothing about them, that was surely no small matter. She was letting them be together in public.

He takes up papers, some to mark, some blank in case he should get bored. A pen is tucked behind his ear.

"I'm alright," He tells her. "But if you could get the door, I'd appreciate that." Second time he's asked her about the door but at least this time he feels like less of an ass about it. "And let me know if I'm going too slow. I can always do a partial change to speed up."

At his request, she opens the door for him, stepping back to allow him through. It's a stark difference between the last time he asked this of her and now. Three months and a million different feelings later...

"It's alright; you don't have to change. I don't mind going slowly." She starts off at a casual pace, something closer to leisurely than purposeful, glancing back to make sure that he can keep up.

Once they're on their way, she continues with a different sort of topic. "I've been thinking... about changing up some of the rules on my floor. Maybe."

He thanks her as he passes by. Definitely a stark difference. This is much better.

He can't say he minds the slower pace either. More time with her. Regardless of her pace though, he makes himself keep up with it.

His brows go up then, head tilting curious. "A rule change? Those kids causing trouble?" They were good kids no doubt but not particularly obedient.

He immediately doesn't understand, and that causes her to give a look back to him--a lifted brow and a slight frown.

"No, the students have been fine. I wasn't thinking of adding any rules. ... I was thinking of removing them." She looks out towards the banquet hall where they're headed, just to keep from looking at him. "Specially... One rule."

He stares blankly.

"The... wait. Wait, wait wait. The- the ban? The music ban?" He eyes her face, like even bringing it up might be the wrong thing.

He exhales a rush of air. "The kids would be really happy but... are you sure? You don't want to give it more time?"

She exhales a sigh at his questioning, looking a little frustrated, but mostly at herself.

"I don't know. I don't know what to do." That frown remains in place as she looks towards the ground, her brow furrowing. Her voice dips quieter. "... She hated that ban. She hated the idea of being me."

"Ay, that," He sighs. He can relate to that feeling. But there's a key difference. He already knew he didn't want to be who he is now. But her?

"She didn't know how wonderful you are," He says softly. "She didn't know there was more to life yet than music. She wasn't seeing what you accomplished, the good and beautiful daughter that you raised. She was seeing an adult who isn't about silly fantasies. To a kid that's scary but in reality there's nothing wrong with that. What matters is how you feel now. About the ban and yourself. But if you ask me, she should've been proud to be you."

He's proud of her. Coco, he's sure, must be. Her brothers always were and the rest of her family too even when they disagreed. He knows many more students here are too.

Edited 2019-05-16 12:51 (UTC)

She didn't know how wonderful you are.

The compliment catches her off guard. She looks up and over to Héctor, words failing her. He was always saying things like that, years ago. It was one of the charming things about him--one of the things that she fell hard for. The way he could speak truth from his heart and build her up. The way he was always there when she felt like she was falling.

"I'm not sure how I feel about the ban right now," she admits, looking away again, but not without a flush to her cheeks. "Or myself. It's... I feel like she's still there, like she didn't fall neatly back into place. All of her extra thoughts and feelings are still out of place." Including the ones that she had about herself and about music... and about him.

"Is it the same with you?"

He thinks nothing of it. Even keeping his distance it's not bad if it's true, right? He just offers a small smile and carries on.

He listens. He takes care not to mention that flush. He thinks he understands what she's saying but his mouth presses at her question all the same. How to put it...

"Teto... we don't... feel too different. What I hoped for or was afraid of, it hasn't changed much. Mostly it just kind of makes older disappointments fresh again." Putting it very, very lightly.

"There's a few differences of course, like the fame thing. That was always Ernesto's dream and I just bought it." He breathes deep and smiles down at the ground. "And on the other hand... Coco. I had no idea how much it would mean. How it would feel... the best days of my life, being her Papá." He thinks a little more and says, "I feel less tired, I think. Like I could do more, maybe. I got to play for you. That was nice. I do want to play more thanks to him but I don't know." He shrugs.

Edited 2019-05-17 06:08 (UTC)

She gives a drier look when he mentions Ernesto, but that same look softens as he comes around to Coco again. Their daughter... She had no idea back then how important one little girl could be.

He mentions playing for her just now, and her expression shifts yet again to something a little more troubled.

"Teto said you don't really play anymore. That it... Makes you sad. Is that true?"

Edited 2019-05-17 13:12 (UTC)

His own smile slips. He did say that, didn't he?

"It's... a little more complicated than that. Not as simple as sad, for me." Though immediately he regrets saying that, as it means having to explain.

"But, no, I don't really play anymore. Or at least not as much. I stopped performing a long ago. Played every now and again for people I traveled with or people who were- who didn't have anywhere to go, but some things happened, I stopped wanting to play much at all, and then when the guitar I was using finally broke it was easier to just... not." He shrugs. "I keep being drawn back to it, like a bad habit, I suppose. But eventually, I'll kick it. Or, that was my plan."

Once again, he's less sure now. Especially what with her saying he ought to hang on to the guitar he "borrowed" from this place.

That was his plan... To "kick a bad habit", so he says. She doesn't point out that if he kept coming back to it, he never really wanted to quit it to begin with. But one thing does still bother her, and it's not something that she's going to let slide until she gets a proper answer.

"Some things being... when I found you?" She looks at him more directly, if only to prompt an answer from him that he can't side step. "Am I the reason you stopped wanting to play? Because I was angry with you?"

He falters in place, guts roiling a little at the reminder of that night. His face goes blank a moment, by default, and by the time he recovers he knows it's too late. But he tries to save face.

"No! No," He says, trying to do anything but look at her now. "No, it's not just that. It's a lot of things." His brow furrows, frown deepening as he keeps his gaze to the ground. If his hands were free he'd rub at his arm.

"I went on that tour and I was- I was happy when we played but otherwise I was miserable. I performed for all these strangers I didn't know and stayed in strange hotels and I died for it." There's a sort of breathless disgust with himself that even he can't disguise. "I hung onto music to hang on to Coco or for people who seemed like they needed it. And, okay, when you found me that put a lot in perspective but it wasn't the only thing. I'd never thought it was a choice, but it was and I chose wrong. And then Peter shows me what Ernesto's done since I died and for the first time I really heard the way it all sounded-- how I must have sounded. If Coco had heard that, I couldn't bear it. You had your ban and sometimes I thought maybe that's what I should be doing."

Edited 2019-05-18 06:31 (UTC)

"Well... Ernesto is arrogant and pompous and self-absorbed," she responds briskly and coolly. There's certainly no love lost there. "Always has been. But... You're a different man from that." She's always known that, even from the start. It's one of the reasons she married him, after all.

There's a bit of silence after her words, followed by a small sigh. "And I know that Coco has always hated my ban on music. She'd be upset with you if you followed my lead. And upset with me for... messing us up so badly."

Am I? He thinks, and the only reason he doesn't voice it is simply that she brings up Coco, his sweet Coco, and then tries to put it on herself. His heart aches.

"Imelda, you didn't mess us up. I did. I left. I was selfish. I might not have enjoyed the tour but at the end of the day, I wasn't different at all. That's what I'm saying, he took my songs, made them about him, but he didn't have to change a word. What does that say?"

He shakes his head. "More importantly, our daughter would never think such a thing of you. Our Coco? Even if she was not happy, she would never think of you so poorly. You're her Mamá, Imelda. She loves you. No matter what kind of teenager she becomes I can't imagine that's not true."

There's a note of truth in what he says, but... He didn't have to see the heartbroken way that their daughter looked at her. He didn't have to see those tears and know that she was hurting. Surely he knew that Coco was upset that he left... But knowing it and seeing it feel like two different things.

"I know she does... but I still hurt her. When I realized you weren't coming back, I threw out everything that reminded me of you. I made Coco do the same. She was so upset, but I couldn't bear to watch her waste her life waiting for you." She was so young when he left. A child that young should be playing and making friends, not sitting at the window and waiting for her Papá to come home. It... felt a little like she had lost both of them sometimes.

"I was just trying to do what was best for her... But she was right. This whole time. I forced that pain on her for no reason at all. And I did the same to you, pushing you away like I did."

His defense of Imelda gets more and more difficult to hold up. Thinking of Coco hurt like that. It's all just things, just stuff that was thrown away, things he hasn't had in ten years and doesn't miss at all like he does his girls. But thinking of Coco in all that... He's not so quick to respond this time. The weight of gravity feels heavier and his cane drags as he walks.

His little girl. His dancing girl. Did she still dance? He guesses not.

"...You didn't know," He says quietly. "You couldn't have known. And I wouldn't want her life wasted either. It's like you said. You did what you thought was best. And as for me, I'm not angry." Hurt, a lot of other things, but there was never a moment beside the initial event in which he didn't understand.

"I'm going to apologize to her when I see her again. I'll hug her so tight. And if she wants a song, if you're allowing it, I'll give her a million. But I'll tell her you meant to protect her. And if I still know my little girl, she'll believe me." He doesn't doubt it though. Not for a moment. "If the music makes you unhappy, you don't need to force yourself. I can give her that and still let you have your peace. The past is done, but we have the future. We can do anything, Imelda, whatever would make it right. Even... run away together as a family." The joke comes with a soft laugh. "You, me, Coco... your hermanos."

He defends her, even when she feels she has no defense. She gives him at same long look that she always does when he starts down that path. Sometimes, she wishes that he would just be angry with her over something. It might be easier to stomach this if he could hold her accountable for anything--if he didn't always give her the easy way out. Maybe she wouldn't have to hold so firmly onto that blame herself. She wouldn't have to feel guilty for wanting to just let his excuses for her be the truth.

But he keeps going, and she doesn't stop him. She probably should, but soon he's talking about running away together, and the reference to their silly idea does make her smile despite herself.

With a little reluctance, she plays along. "If we're bringing all five of us, then what are we running away from? Why not just stay in Santa Cecilia?"

He coaxes a smile out and his own grows wider.

"Responsibilities," He says easily. "We can run away to the yard, put up a tent and camp there. No schools, no work, no mage business. The five of us together and not a care in the world. Except for pillow fights. We'll do all our favorite things together. Tell a million stories."

It sounds idealistic. It is. But he doesn't think that should stop them.

"But my point is, if you're sorry, that's all you've got to tell her. You do whatever you feel you need to, whatever you can, and whether it makes up or not isn't really the point. But I'm sure, she'll forgive you, if she hasn't already." So maybe, just maybe, she can forgive herself.

She exhales a small laugh, if only for his silliness. A tent in the yard. Pillow fights and telling stories, and no school or work or mage business. No Nightfall to worry about. Just the five of them--just their family. That sounds... really good to her right now.

He brings her back down just as gently, coming back to the more pressing topic at hand. She knows that her daughter will forgive her. She's every bit as kind and gentle as her Papá, but admitting that she was wrong all those years ago... That's a tall order for her. An even taller order is forgiving herself.

"I know... She's a kind, sweet girl--like someone else I know." She gives Héctor a side glance, but doesn't elaborate there. "I was thinking, though... Do you have time later this evening? Around eleven?"

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