TO THE BAAAR, SEÑOR!

It’s not a total lie. But all the same, Javier tries downplaying it the best he can, hoping that you’ll buy into his little excuse so he can at least attempt to avoid getting so sappy on you first thing in the morning, but you know your boyfriend well enough at this point to know that he isn’t painting you the full picture.

In truth, he’s in total awe. Still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he’s sitting here with you right now when only a few months prior, he was admiring you from afar and pondering whether he should even take the leap and approach you to introduce himself.

“No, no. That’s not all it is. C’mon, what’s on your mind?”

You press him further, bumping your foot against his under the table and shooting him a look that tells him you’re completely unconvinced. His eyes meet yours, and after holding your unwavering stare for a solid moment, Javier finally concedes with a soft sigh and gives you a gentle smile.

“I just…feel lucky, y’know? So happy, too. It’s crazy to really think about how well things turned out for us,” he’s beaming now, and he reaches for your hand across the table, giving it a squeeze, “Like…I can’t get over how a few months ago, I wanted to learn your name. And now you’re having breakfast with me in my sweater on Valentine’s Day.”

You feel yourself melt at his confession, and what started off as a small smile uncontrollably grows into one that shines a mile wide. Upon brief reflection in the moment, you, too, are pleasantly surprised by how things have worked out for yourself and Javier so far.

Javier is right, too. If someone had told you a few months ago that you’d be staying over at your boyfriend’s place the night before Valentine’s Day, having a film marathon with him while cuddling him on the sofa in a sweater borrowed from him, you most likely would have laughed at them.

Honestly? You know it’s still pretty early days, but you’re almost certain you’re starting to truly fall in love with him. But you refrain from telling him that. At least for now, anyway.

“Crazy how the world works, right?” you beam, rising up from your chair to lean across the table and plant a chaste peck on his lips, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Javi. I’m sure you already know, but I’m so happy with us right now.”

“Hon? You okay in there? Need any help?”

Charles calls out softly, overhearing your struggle on his venture to your room. He pokes his head around the bedroom door that’s cracked ajar, one hand resting against the oak, the other holding a fresh, hot cup of tea for you. When you don’t reply, he nudges the door open with his foot and takes a step inside.

You look downright exhausted and fed up as you lay there, but you’re still unable to fight the soft smile you offer Charles as he strolls his way over to the foot of your bed. You briefly brush stray strands of your hair back with a hand before carding your fingers through the rest of it, and Charles sets your cup down on the bedside table before he perches himself next to you on the empty side of the bed, gently reaching out to take your hand and bringing it to his lips to plant a few tender pecks on your knuckles.

“Hey, don’t struggle by yourself. You need anything, anything at all, you call for me. Okay?” he tells you, maintaining eye contact until you give him an affirming nod, “But other than that, you actually get some sleep this time? Feeling at least a little better at all?”

“More than the night before last, I think. Little less in and out of it, but…more than anything, I’m just getting frustrated. I’m getting so sick of being stuck in bed by myself. It’s so lonely. I wanna be outside, actually doing something productive,” you gesture towards the open window to your left, “It’s driving me crazy, Charles. I’m tired of this damn flu already.”

“I know, I know.” he softly shushes you, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead, “But you need to take it easy, rest up. Try rushing it, you’re gonna make yourself even worse.”

Slumping back against your pillow, you sigh. Charles is right. You know he is, but you can’t help feeling helpless, lonely, and slightly stir crazy from your time on bed rest. He’s been amazing in caring for you, you can’t fault that even if you tried to, but you’d give anything to be helping out with the animals or even helping in general on the homestead with him as opposed to being cooped up in bed for days on end.

The wistful look on your face doesn’t go unnoticed by Charles, either. He reaches over to the bedside table,  hands you your cup of tea, and he waits for you to finish taking a sip before he takes the cup away from you once more to set it down on the nightstand, and he hums while he cracks a smile at you.

“Tell you what,” he begins, regaining your full attention, “I’ve done a lot on the land so far already, so…would it make you feel any better if I lay here with you for a while? Sadly, I can’t take the flu away, but I can help cure the loneliness.”

“But won’t you get sick, too? You’ve risked it enough just by kissing me and all.”

You furrow your brow in concern, but Charles is quick enough to shake his head and wave a hand in dismissal. Instead, he kicks off his boots before peeling back the covers and sliding into the bed next to you, aiding you in getting yourself comfortable once more before he slouches down and does the same.

“Nah, I’m not worried about that.”

Charles smiles and angles himself towards you, opening his arms to invite you in. You’re still hesitant, the thought of potentially getting him sick is still fresh in your mind, but you don’t have the heart to turn him down. Scooting closer to him, you’re soon enveloped in his warm embrace, curling your own arms around him while you lay your head flat against his chest with a sigh of pure contentment.

“You’re allowed to blame me if you do get sick, y’know. I warned you.”

You hum, eyes fluttering shut once Charles begins to play with your hair, absentmindedly yet tenderly twisting and curling stray locks around his fingers. A chuckle rumbles deep in his chest at this, the sound and feel of it against you prompting warmth to bloom in your chest.

“I’m not blaming you for anything.” he tells you, and he plants a kiss atop your head, “But even if I do get sick, make it up to me by getting some rest right now. Think you can do that?”

“I can try to,” with a hum, you nod your head yes at him, “You still gonna be here when I wake up?”

You ask, and you allow yourself to fully settle down against him, nestling under the covers while Charles continues to toy with your hair with one hand and traces soft, haphazard patterns across random sections of your back with the other. He stops only to fully pull the covers over you both while attempting to make himself comfortable in the process, cocooning the two of you in the bed to wordlessly hint to you that he’s here for the duration.

“If I win, promise me you’re not gonna banish me to the couch for the night?” Jack asks, laughing, to which you roll your eyes and crane your head back to look at him once you’ve momentarily hit pause on your game and set your controller down.

“Babe, would I do that to you?” you hum, smirking up at him, “I’m not that competitive, surely.”

Jack returns your knowing smirk, setting his own controller to one side when you flip yourself over onto your stomach and crawl your way closer to him, one swing of the leg away from straddling him.

“No, you definitely are. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re trying to distract me.”

His heart thumps against his chest when you finally do swing your leg over, hips now pressed against his, and you give him a swift, teasing peck on the lips whilst keeping your voice barely above a whisper.

“Is it working?”

“...Samuel? Jack? This ain’t funny. C’mon, we’re ready to go. Quit hidin’.”

Panic creeps in, your voice wavering slightly when you’re the one to speak up this time. You cast Hosea a glance before your eyes skim over the woods, brows pinched together as you worry your lower lip between your teeth and half-run towards the stream, leaving the horses, supplies, and Hosea behind to continue your search.

“Sweetheart, wait! We gotta stay here! What if they come back lookin’ for us? We’ll all be lost-”

Hosea hollers at you before you completely disappear over the brow of the hill, but it falls on deaf ears. There’s no way they could have gone far. You turned your back on them for minutes at a time, saw them there, playing.

Something is definitely wrong.

A thousand thoughts a second cloud your mind as you near the stream, blame and guilt being the main offenders. You blame yourself for turning your back on those boys. Blame yourself for wanting to help Hosea pack up quicker when you should have stayed with them. 

You’re wracked with guilt for letting something happen to Jack when Abigail had trusted you to have him under your watch, no to mention your own son being thrown into the mix, too. You have no idea what you’ll tell her when you get back to camp, but you’re already bracing yourself to face her wrath.

“Jack?! Samuel?! Where are you, boys?!”

Like a broken record at this point, your desperate cries echo throughout the woods. There’s absolutely no trace of them. No belongings, no articles of clothing, nothing. You spin in circles, yelling for them repeatedly, searching for another sign of life in the woods.

You don’t hear the beating of hooves in the distance until your cries recede. You know it can’t be your horses, and before you even think about it, you’re following the sound of hoofbeats as fast as your legs can carry you.

The sound grows louder, and when you’re as close as you know you can get, you’re able to catch a glimpse of the rider at the back of the gang, looking over his shoulder, checking if the coast is clear. When he spots you, however, his eyes widen, and he spurs his horse on with urgency.

“We gotta move, boys! They’re followin’ us!” he yells to the other few riders further ahead, “Don’t you let them boys go for nothin’!”

“That’s my son! Give me back my son, you bastards!”

You scream, helpless as Samuel and Jack call out to you, their abductors getting further away by the second. Feebly, you attempt to chase them on foot, but they’re already gone. Sinking to your knees in the dirt, your body wracks with sobs as emotion finally consumes you.

Having heard the commotion, Hosea trots up on his mount with yours following close behind. He slides out of the saddle, and as soon as his boots are on the ground, he’s dropping to his knees, enveloping you in his arms. There’s no use in him chasing after them, and he knows this. They’re already long gone, and they’ll most likely kill him if he goes alone.

“Fuckin’ Braithwaites. It has to be, after everythin’. I bet they followed us here, didn’t they?”

Your voice is hoarse, and you’re clutching onto Hosea for dear life while the tears continue to fall with no intention of stopping. You can’t think straight, and it feels like your world has been torn apart. You have no idea what they want with Samuel and Jack, nor do you know what they’ll do with them. The not knowing is killing you, and Hosea already suspects that you’re assuming the worst.

Drinks in hand, you amble back towards Hosea, setting both glasses down on the surface. You grin from ear to ear, but Hosea seems to find his drink to be the most interesting thing in the world right now. You pinch your brows together, and you slide a hand along the table, placing it atop his and tracing small, soft circles against his skin with your thumb until he looks at you.

“Hey, you alright? You seem a lil...out of it.”

You hum, your gaze not leaving him once. He’s silent for a moment, and then, with a huff, he slouches back in his chair, looking over at you at last. Still, no words come from him, almost like he’s mulling them over, trying to find the best thing to say, or how to say it, even.

“...Looks like you made a new friend back there, huh? Fella was all over you. And the way he was lookin’ at you was somethin’ else.”

Hosea finally speaks up, dropping his gaze once more when he’s done. There’s a tone to it that you can’t quite place, and you sit opposite him, dumbfounded. What does he mean, and where has this come from?

You can’t say you’d noticed any particular looks from the stranger, nor did you think he was all over you. There were a few touches here and there, sure, but you hadn’t thought anything of them. Plus, it’s not like you’re interested, anyway. You’re more than happy with what you already have.

“Aw, c’mon! He don’t mean nothin’ by it. He’s just bein’ nice.”

You attempt to laugh it off, but when Hosea doesn’t join in, you quirk a brow at him, bemused. He’s still stone-faced, arms remaining crossed as he stands before you, like he’s waiting for some further explanation from you.

“You seemed to be enjoyin’ it, s’all.”

He grumbles, and at that, it doesn’t take you long to figure out what’s really going on here. You can’t say you’ve ever thought Hosea would be the jealous type, but all the signs appear to be pointing in that direction, and you can’t not bring it up.

“Hold on a minute...you’re jealous? Of that fella?”

You gesture to the man still standing at the bar as you ask, to which Hosea sighs, drops his gaze downwards, and scuffs the sole of his boot against the wooden floor. It’s as though he doesn’t want to own up to it, like he himself is painfully aware of how ridiculous it must sound to you. You don’t think that, though. Not for a second.

Scooting your chair towards him, you reach out and place a hand on his forearm, giving him a reassuring smile when he eventually looks back up at you.

“Well...you seemed like you were enjoying the company. And it made me think, what if you want somebody more...suited to you someday? I ain’t gonna be around forever, I’d understand-”

“Let me stop your there, we’re not gonna talk about that, not right now. That definitely ain’t it. And I definitely ain’t lookin’ to be with nobody else. I only want you, Hosea. Nobody else. I love you. Don’t you ever think no different, okay?”

You hum, gently resting a hand against his cheek. Hosea’s features soften at that, and he finally cracks a smile at you, nodding slightly as your words sink in, mentally repeating them to himself over and over.