Es imposible que yo te olvide.

The doctors told me that I should try and talk to people, and I don’t really have anything else to do with myself while I lay here. So I guess I’ll try it. They think that if I start talking to people it’ll help with my memory.

So. Yeah. Hi. It’s, um. Nice to meet you all.

I’m sorry. I can’t - I don’t know who many people are right now; I know, like, my family and my boyfriend now, and I’m doing my best to remember the people who come visit. I’m sure I like you very much, it’s not personal … ? I don’t want to hurt your feelings.

It’s hard to say I don’t want to go when I can’t even remember why i’d stay.

… Boyfriend? My apologies, Miss Miller. I didn’t mean to upset you. You… must have a case of amnesia. Uhm. I wish you luck with that getting better… I’m Emmett. We’re… friends. We’ve hung out a few times. That’s all…

Remember I borrowed money from you to come and see her?

Que paso, Emmett? Everything is okay, yes?

The fog of painkillers and sheer exhaustion made it impossible to truly call it “waking up,” but Lexi’s eyes blinked open, at the very least. It took less and less effort to remember where she was each time she stirred, so maybe that was progress of some kind, but the memories weren’t her own. They’d been spoon-fed to her by monotone doctors and the well-meaning nurses who came by to check her vitals so often it was fruitless to try to get any legitimate rest; there had been an accident, and she was in the hospital - she was going to be fine, just fine, but it seemed that she was experiencing amnesia, and could she remember her name? They never offered details, telling her that would all come with time, and for now they just wanted her to rest, which always turned out to be a dirty lie because, it seemed, no sooner did she drift off than more people came by to poke and prod.

Others were there too, beyond the medical staff. The distinguished but aged man who looked at her with a perpetually-furrowed brow even when he was trying to give a smile, that was her father. Daddy, according to the frenetic woman who seemingly never stopped crying - her mother, that made sense - and Dad according to the trio of well-dressed older men who she was informed were her brothers. They gave her the most trouble, all resembling one another closely enough that she was sure those not experiencing amnesia would still have trouble deciphering one from the other. It was easier to spot the differences between them when they were all in front of her at once, but that brought the added chaos of having three to five stressed-out Italians in a very confined room, so the hospital staff had quickly put an end to that: No more than two visitors at once until the patient was feeling up to company, even if they were family.

One brother was sitting on the edge of a plastic chair, elbows digging into his thighs as he rested his face in his hands. He was … not Anthony, because Anthony had shorter hair. Kendrick? Whoever it was did a bit of a double-take when he turned to see her staring at him, a fair reaction even if she didn’t look like a zombie - she assumed, at least, it wasn’t as though anyone had given her a mirror; she could see the galaxy of rainbow bruises absolutely covering her body when they sponged her down, and the smell locked in her tresses was like the bonfire from hell - but his chiseled features softened as he jumped up to stand by her side.

“There’s my girl. I, uh, I made Dad take Ma back to their hotel for the night, I think she was getting a little unhinged. I mean, you’ve seen her - she’s been a wreck. We’ve, uh, we’ve all just been kind of wrecked, Lu.” His voice broke and he shoved a hand towards his face, violently wiping away a few tears as though he was angry they existed. He took her hand in his, running his thumb over her knuckles as he continued to ramble. “D-do you remember that? We call you LuLu, it’s a … there’s a song.”

He mumbled a childish little melody under his breath to the best of his ability before getting choked up again. He gave a quick tap to the back of her hand with his free one as he cleared his throat, bending to drop a kiss on her forehead. “Ken’s in the waiting room, I’m just gonna … go tell him you’re up.”

Oh, so this was Luca.

“He’s here, if you need anything,” her brother added with a nod of his chin, drawing Lexi’s attention to a man napping in the opposite corner of the room. Her - boyfriend, they said; well, everyone other than the brother who too-insistently referred to him as her pal or her buddy. “He, uh … he hasn’t left your side, kid.”

When he was finally allowed back to see her, Cesar made a promise to himself that he wouldn't leave the room again. They would have to physically remove him. But he was worried that someone actually would, so it quickly became a habit of his to shrink away to a far corner and be quiet whenever a doctor or a member of Lexi's family would come in, to try and make the room seem less crowded. It seemed to work, but inevitably the family's attention had turned to him. Cesar wasn't sure what to say to them, but naturally, he settled on the truth. He was her boyfriend. They were in love. The dumbfounded looks he received in answer didn't surprise him; once he was sure that the older guys who must be the brothers she'd told him about weren't going to throw him out of the room, he ducked his head and side-stepped them to resume his post near the head of her bed.

He'd heard some muttering, but eventually they seemed to accept his presence, which Cesar could only be grateful for. He hadn't wanted to hurt anyone related to Lexi in the inevitable fight that would have taken place had they tried to take him out. Still, none of them really spoke to him much in the following hours. That was alright with Cesar, though it was impossible to feel really comfortable in the atmosphere of quiet tension.

At some point, he'd fallen asleep. It was inevitable, given his extreme exhaustion. But the click of the door latch had become ingrained in his psyche and it was enough to startle Cesar awake, afraid that someone might have arrived to insist that he leave. His expression shifted from alarm to relief, and then his eyes landed on Lexi's face. In a second, Cesar was out of his chair and across the room. He was afraid to touch any part of her, or to jostle her on the bed, so he just drew up a chair as close as he could get. His face was drawn, the darkest of circles under brown eyes that were wide with fear and concern. A gash that had been cleaned and stitched stood out on one of his cheeks, angry red against his olive complexion. Cautiously the submissive fed his fingers into her hand, mindful of the IV tubes that were looped around her wrist.

"We have to go right now," he says rapidly as he hoists Genevieve up into his arms, forgetting that the professor can't hear him. She's light, at least by Cesar's standards, and he has no problem standing and turning with her back towards the door. Hopefully the dog can take care of itself, because Cesar doesn't have an extra hand even if there was a leash to put in it.

As he moves back toward the door though, the floor shifts under his increased weight. Cesar doesn't even have time to look for something to hold onto as he feels the wooden planks drop away and both he and Genevieve - and Nachos, if he was standing close enough - begin to plummet downward. In a moment of pure instinct, Cesar latches onto a metal railing, and the painful jolt moves through his shoulders and down the whole of his spine as he slams to a stop. His other hand is gripping her, fingers wrapped around her forearm, but the heat of the burning building has made Cesar's skin so slick that Genevieve immediately starts to slide, and now he's only holding onto her hand as she hangs beneath him.

Sleep had been evading Emmett for weeks now. Even before the OAR leak, he had been having trouble sleeping because every time he closed his eyes he saw her face. Nova, his Domme, finding him after all these years. She would call him ‘Paul’ or ‘Paulie’, talk all sweet and then drag him away from his life here back to North Carolina.

He’d just finished a hot shower to try and relax his body when he’d heard sirens screeching past his house. He turned on his CB radio on his kitchen table and froze when he heard the words ‘St. Brendan’s Academy. Fire. Explosion.’. “FUCK!”

We was dressed and out the door in record time, leaving Snow behind because something like this was no place for a dog. His normal 20-to-25 minute walk to school was cut nearly in half as he ran after the ambulance toward the school.

It’s unusual to actually have your service dog do his job to the point where it confuses you. It must be three AM, or maybe earlier. Possibly later. Genevieve just knows that all of a sudden, a wet dog nose is nudging at her and tugging her nightgown to wake her up. The way Nachos has been acting, it’s almost as if he’d been trying for maybe a good half an hour already. It’s been awhile. She’s confused and unaware of what’s actually happening right now to the point where it scares her that all she sees is this distinct cloudy gray. Fog, perhaps? They are right by the ocean. Not even her alarm clock light is on. The power is off? Gen glances over at where she knows Nachos is trying to grab her still and pets his face. “Nachos, baby, it’s okay It’s just the fog.” 

She goes to lay down again, but Nachos seems adamant about getting the hell out of their room. This only worries Genevieve, so she accepts the dog’s urgency to get out of her bed. She wonders if she should put the doberman’s harness on, because it might actually help guide her out a little bit more. She can’t see anything, she can barely feel her dog, and everything is an eerie quiet. More than it usually is, since she knows her dog wants her out of the room now. The processors to her cochlear implant goes left behind on her nightstand before she quickly puts on shoes, telling Nachos to ‘calm the hell down, dog!’ as she does it because now he’s freaking out more. 

Then, there’s a blast and Genevieve doesn’t even realize it’s happening until she feels the ground rumble ever so slightly, and then one second later, she’s blasted forward rocks and glass both shattering at both her and Nachos, and there’s so much fire to the point where it’s terrifying and both blinding. Genevieve has never been scared of fire or an explosion before in her life, but the glass now trapped in her skin has made her too cautious to move and all she’s doing is trying to shield her dog from the fire as they make their way into the bathroom of the suite as fast as she can. She realizes that it’s not as fast as she wants it to be when there’s glass shards stuck in the back of her leg and back. God, she hopes Nachos didn’t get hurt. I tried to cover him as much as possible.  “C’mon boy,” she yells to Nachos as they work themselves back into a safer room.

It’s always said you have to be in the coolest room of the house when you’re trapped in a fire, right? Once they’re in the room, after both practically crawling into the bathroom on her hands and feet, she realizes that Nachos is trembling. He’s scared too. 

A job was a job at the end of the day, and as much as Noelle would complain to her submissive about her job and the students plus faculty around here, she genuinely enjoyed being at St. Brendan’s. It was a nice experience and challenging. Sure the frustrations came hand in hand with that, but Noelle was a Wilde and she persevered like no other. What Noelle didn’t expect in regards to St. Brendan’s was an explosion to occur. Or the fact that the entirety of the school was practically up in flames.

There was nothing more terrifying than watching her room fall apart around her while her submissive used his body to shield her from any falling debris that would occur. She considered herself lucky in that sense. The real obstacle was getting out of there, and while she knew that it wasn’t the smartest thing, her top priority at the moment was finding her cousin ( and Finley ). With a gentle order to her submissive to vacate the building immediately and ensuring that he got to safety — watching him run to the nearest paramedic to be treated for the cuts on his body from the debris, Noelle began her voyage through the mass of destruction around her, doing her best to dodge in the best way possible. 

Sleep had been evading Emmett for weeks now. Even before the OAR leak, he had been having trouble sleeping because every time he closed his eyes he saw her face. Nova, his Domme, finding him after all these years. She would call him ‘Paul’ or ‘Paulie’, talk all sweet and then drag him away from his life here back to North Carolina.

He’d just finished a hot shower to try and relax his body when he’d heard sirens screeching past his house. He turned on his CB radio on his kitchen table and froze when he heard the words ‘St. Brendan’s Academy. Fire. Explosion.’. “FUCK!”

We was dressed and out the door in record time, leaving Snow behind because something like this was no place for a dog. His normal 20-to-25 minute walk to school was cut nearly in half as he ran after the ambulance toward the school.

It gave him some sense of satisfaction to ignore his own body’s needs now. It was entwined and intermingled with a little pain, but frankly, that was more than alright with him. Lexi’s body was so responsive against him that it provided plenty of distraction for his mind. He felt her shaking now and he flung his free hand down to the bed, twisting his fingers into the sheets as he pistoned his hips into her without mercy. Steadily all of her muscles drew up tight, and his fingertips still slid roughly over the hard little bud beneath them, until her words lost their coherence and he felt her start to fall.

Cesar pressed his lips against her neck and held her through it. Somewhere between her desperate whines in his ear and the tight spasms of her walls around his cock, Cesar began to drift. He had enough presence of mind to brace himself on his arms so that the very least his lover wouldn’t be crushed under his weight, but apart from that his body had gone very still and it was clear that he was incredibly relaxed. There was no comparison between this and his usual encounters working at the brothel. If this had been a client, he would’ve most likely been shoved away by now and left to manage his own aftercare. Right now, though neither one of them had moved, Cesar felt blissfully warm, safe, and wanted. Giving a sigh of ultimate contentment, he finally shifted off of her and onto his side, one arm slinging around her waist immediately to pull her closer. He wanted to stay here - right here - forever and never move another inch.

It was an otherworldly dichotomy, shattering into a million pieces while being held together by Cesar’s arms. She knew her lips were moving but certainly didn’t consider herself to be in control of whatever she happened to be murmuring as she came for him, the fingers of one hand tangling up in her own tresses as the other bunched at his damn shirt. She continued to pull futilely at the fabric with a gentle, rhythmic tugging that synced up to her slow breaths as she came back to earth, still insistent on feeling his naked skin against hers. 

During the half-second in which Cesar let her go, Lexi remembered her place in all of this, both of their places: their ages, their backgrounds, the sheer fact that - at least in her experience - sex had never panned out to mean anything more than exactly what it was. She needed to pump the fucking brakes, she knew she did; she was being immature, she was getting ahead of herself to think that a grown man who looked like Cesar and had the heart he did would have interest in such a mess of a little girl … but then his arm locks around her waist, and her eyes flutter open as he brings her back to him, and she watches the rise and fall of his chest for a decade or two before finally tarnishing the silence with a whisper.

There was a slight pause and then Cesar laboriously lifted his head, because all he really wanted was to sleep right now, but even this groggy he understood the importance of the question. It wasn’t so different from another request she’d made of him a while ago, and a renewed warmth pooled in the pit of the older man’s stomach. He forced his brain to change gears back into English, and beamed at her with his eyes half-lidded and hazy, but full of sincerity.

Oh.. lo siento, I didn’t realize. I was not able to get up here at all until late last night. Are you sick?

I am staying on campus now, for right now. If you need anything-  déjame saber, si?