Daybreak IC Inbox

[unpocoloco]

Héctor
UN: OLLIN

STATUS: Graduate Student / Teacher's Assistant

ACCOLADES: I write music, know how to play a few instruments, mostly la guitarra.

BIO: !Hola¡ Soy Héctor. Yo hablo español y un poco inglés. I've come to Daybreak to learn a little about all this magic stuff and help out around the Campus. If you need an odd job taken care of, I'm your guy! (Unless you are la policía. Or someone I have borrowed from. If that is the case, do not contact me, por favor.)

© TESSISAMESS

Comments

[unpocoloco]

His breath pulls sharp, a wide eyed look to him almost as though something's run him through. He jerks to a stop.

His eyes lift to stare at her, and more than any other time, even as a screaming monster, it's written on his face and in his eyes how desperately he wants. And for so long. But he doesn't quite manage to speak.

When he tries, what comes instead is a shuddery breath, not close enought to a laugh to be called that. His mouth presses and he blinks, trying to control himself.

The moment he does manage to find his voice, it comes out a croak. "Tonight? I- S-si. I... we? You want me... to be there?"

[no_dejare_de_quererte]

It rocks him like she expects it to. She doesn't realize that her own breath his held as she waits for his reaction. She just keeps her hand against his elbow, a small connection between them. A lifeline, if either of them should need it.

She nods to his question, just a small movement of her head. An exhale. "She'll want to talk to you." She's certain of that. "If it's too soon, I can wait. Or tell her some other evening, but that would only work for so long..."

[unpocoloco]

He needs it. He needs that lifeline, always has, especially now.

He feels dizzy, though there's no reason he should, breathless despite lacking the need for it. Every word she speaks feels like a new imprint on his heart. She'll want to talk to you.

"I want to talk to her," He hears himself say, choked by the want. "I want to talk to my little girl."

Nothing could be too soon. He wishes it were sooner.

[no_dejare_de_quererte]

"Alright." The word is spoken softly between them, her expression softening just a little more at how choked up he is. With her free hand, she reaches out to take the books and papers from his hand before he drops them. In their place, she moves the hand at his elbow to clasp around his now empty hand.

"Tonight, then. When she calls, I'll explain the situation to her. That you've been sick, and they're treating you here. If she asks to visit, then we tell her not right now. Phone calls, texting--Those are fine. If you get those video calls to work... Those are okay, too. Just be very careful about what you show her."

[unpocoloco]

He doesn't try to hang on to the books when she reaches for them. Though he's just as sure he can manage now as before, her hand in his is a solace. He grips it tight.

"Thank you," He says, struggling not to cry. "Thank you, Imelda, thank you." He has to take a minute, maybe two, as he tries to collect himself.

"I'll be careful," He promises. "I won't let her see anything. No magic, or going too late." Just talking to his little girl. Just asking about her, hearing her voice.

[no_dejare_de_quererte]

She smiles a little at his promises and the emotion in his expression and his voice. It brings a tender look to her own face, one that she doesn't seem to notice.

"You're welcome," she says quietly, though it feels strange on her tongue. She was the one keeper them apart, after all. She's not so sure that she deserves his thanks simply for relenting. But he's happy enough in this moment that she doesn't point that out.

"I'll write the number down for you when we get back, and we can give her your number tonight. And... please don't tell her about everything that's happened here. With you, and with us. I just don't want her to worry."

[unpocoloco]

She's not just relenting. She's providing a connection he simply didn't have, that would have taken him who knows how long to get. There's a softer look on her face but he's still just trying not to cry.

He shakes his head. "No, no. I don't want to tell her all that. I just want to know about her. I want to hear it all from her. Everything." Every little thing he's missed. He ducks his head but it doesn't help. Those tears leak free. He laughs helplessly without the means to wipe them away.

"Discúlpame. I've just... it's been so long. I've missed her so much. I didn't think... I'd *hoped* maybe by next year..." It's not holding her or seeing her face but it's still so much more. And by doing it like this she's still safe. His throat is painfully tight.

When he finally manages to speak again, albeit in a croak, he asks, "Should I keep the Outlands from her? I don't know how else to explain why I didn't call. Except maybe a coma."

[no_dejare_de_quererte]

"The Outlands is fine. She knows about that. We don't need to make up more stories to cover what's... honestly already plausible." Getting lost in the Outlands would be a pretty harrowing experience--especially for someone unfamiliar with magic as he is... Was.

"You were lost in the Outlands for a very long time, and it made you sick. That's why you're here. To make you better." She lets go of his hand, reaching up to his face to brush some of those tears away.

"You're going to be a mess, aren't you?" She can hardly blame him, especially after the mess she was in his room not fifteen minutes ago. But that won't stop her from teasing with a small smirk on her lips, softened only by the look of fondness in her eyes.

[unpocoloco]

He smiles and sniffs, a breathy laugh escaping him as she teases. He lets her tend, leaning just a little into her hand.

"I already am a mess," He answers softly. "I'm going to be a disaster. And everyone still in that banquet hall is going to think you teased me to tears or shoved some chopped onions in my face." He tuts, but then quickly laughs again.

"You should've told me later. I'm not going to be able to think of anything else." Under the half-joke, there's some genuine apology. What terrible company he's about to make.

[no_dejare_de_quererte]

He leans into her hand, and for a moment she leaves it there, cupping the side of his face while her thumb brushes over his cheek. And then she withdraws it again.

"Mmm. I didn't want you making plans. I'd feel bad for you when you had to break them." Because she knows by now that he'd drop almost anything for a chance to talk with their daughter. "Besides, if I told you later, would you have panicked? Just think of this as time to figure out what to say."

[unpocoloco]

"I wouldn't," He laughs. He's done way worse, disappointed people and angered more, trying to get back to Coco. No guilt could compare. He doesn't know if he would have panicked. He can't imagine panicking over the one thing he's wanted for years. And on that note, he shakes his head.

"No sense in it. I've been trying to come up with things for years. It's all going out the window once I hear her voice." His heart aches with longing and joy. He starts walking again, looking hardly less a mess but not caring who will see.

He says, "I used to dream about it. Metaphorically speaking. Every night out there, every moment we stopped and I got the chance. I thought of you and her, going through that door." Taking them both up in his arms, spinning them around. Logically knowing each year that Coco would be bigger, different, but still seeing the same little girl. "I thought, at the time, I might have to explain how I came back from the dead then and there, but I don't know if I would've managed that either. When I thought about it, I'd just be so happy to see you both. I'm kind of glad I don't have to do that. I don't have to ruin the good parts so much, I guess."