#abta

The ride home feels impossibly long. The darkness of night envelopes the one way road like a tunnel of inky black cut through only by the yellow headlights of our broken down car. Long, black trees line the path creating a canopy of shadows that whip across the windows as our car speeds along the tiny, winding road. The blaring, red light from the dash beams directly into my eyes with its annoying brightness, signaling the current time.

2:59am.

We wouldn’t get home for at least another 3 hours. The air was off, the heater died long before we both saved up enough to buy this piece of junk second-no, FIFTH-hand. Honestly, this trash on wheels was more work than what it’s worth and I often find myself contemplating its impending demise via junkyard impoundment or it one day just breaking down on us. I hope for the latter, because at that point we really should invest in a higher quality vehicle that fits our lifestyle. Even though we were missing a lot of essential assets in our ride, the outside chill wasn’t extreme but was felt enough to be bothersome. I was hyper aware of the cool temperature as I had almost nothing to focus on during the drive. The radio had been stolen while on our trip to San Francisco two years prior and thus the car is currently shrouded in uncomfortable silence. Mateo had called the thieving thugs, “pinche cabrones” and every other Spanish swear word under the sun. I always laugh at the memory because of it.

Goosebumps prickles my skin as I run my hands over my arms in a vain attempt to warm up. I guess it was also a self soothing gesture for the unspoken issue I am still mulling over at this very moment. The issue that has been hanging over us and this entire car ride and even a little before that when we left for our friend’s dinner.

We are on our way back from a friend’s, spending all of only forty-five minutes there before leaving. It had begun and ended with an argument that snowballed into a full on shouting match between me and my boyfriend in front of all our friends.This ruined the entire evening and we quickly made our awkward departure from the festivities. The worst thing is that I don’t even really remember what incited it, only that it had made us arrive late and leave even earlier than intended. 

“Mateo?” I whisper meekly into the darkness of the car. 

No response.

The interior feels vast and its emptiness is only exemplified by his silence. The lack of interaction makes my heart sink. Tears burn on the edges of my eyes but I furiously blink them away. He looks at me once he hears me sniffling and lets out a sigh. Mateo’s right hand goes off from the wheel and he puts his palm up on the divider, silently telling me to grasp it, which I do. The warmth of his hand is reassuring and seeps into my cold skin. His thumb rubs circles on mine and he squeezes my hand tightly. I don't know why but that small action finally broke me. The tears that were threatening to fall stream down my face like hot twin rivers as I let out a tiny whimper.

“Hey, hey, hey. Don’t do that. Tch. Damn it y/n.” His hand drops mine in favor of caressing my wet cheek. His chocolate eyes struggle to focus between the perilous road and me, steering wheel in one hand. A frown mars his face. “Look at me. You don’t need to do all that.”

“How can I not?” I snap, furiously wiping tears away. I inadvertently shrug his hand off my face which drops to my thigh and doesn’t move from there. “This night has been HORRIBLE! And you won’t talk to me and we had to leave! All I want to do is go home and sleep and-”

“-You can sleep in the car” He weakly interjects, almost as if not believing his own words.

“But you’re mad at me! I don’t want to go to sleep angry at each other. That’s going to be the worst sleep of my life because I will be so worried and probably have nightmares. I don’t know, I feel like we’ve been fighting a lot more than usual. AND IN FRONT OF OUR FRIENDS? It hasn’t gotten that bad where we fought in front of people before! Oh my god, how embarrassing! I can’t bring myself to ever face them again.”

My heated rant is met with more silence. It’s not reassuring.

I count my breaths as they come out like plumes of smoke and I can’t help myself as I turn away from him. One. Two. Three. Four. The heat of my exhales fogs up the window of the passenger seat as I press my cheek on the glass. I run my finger through the condensation collecting there. The futility of its permanence is almost laughable as I watch a water droplet run down the end of my finger. Its reminder, a pain of things passing, the good and bad, like sand running through a sieve. 

I’m brought out of my thoughts by the loud crunching of gravel underneath the tires as the car slowly pulls off the road. My boyfriend kills the engine but the headlights are still on. Mateo turns to look at me and grasps my hands in his. The pale light from the car leaves a sliver of yellow across his face. The glow fluoresces the shocking lime green color of his hair, the pleasant brown tones of his eyes reminds me of an enticing warm cup of hot chocolate that my current cold self longs for. He looks ethereal, angelic almost. If it were any other circumstance I would be blushing in awe at the sight. 

“I’m sorry.” It’s a long drawn out sigh. The sound of defeat tinges the edges of his voice. “For everything.”

“Everything is all encompassing and non-committal.” I say flatly, acutely aware of how my nails dig into the outside of his hands. Mateo doesn’t flinch or break away from my stare. Homely brown eyes are unyielding to mine. The words are heavy on my tongue yet I want to say them anyways. It’s biting and petty but I don't care. If I sound like a petulant child so be it. I want him to hurt as I have, to feel my pain like it was his; which is why I seethe, my words dripping with venom. “Specifying is innately better even though it’s harder. It’s taking accountability to make sure you understand what you did wrong. It’s the acknowledgement that matters!”

“You did some things wrong too.” His strong brows furrow, creasing the space on his forehead.

“I know, and I’m sorry.” I grimace.

“For…. what exactly? You need to specify. Being vague is non-committal.”

This gets a laugh out of me. Mateo smirks at the sound. I run my hand through my hair and I glance at him. His eyebrow arches, eyes sparkling. He’s waiting for me to continue. One look from him and I feel all the rage within me dissipate. It fizzles out like a zap of an electric current only to be replaced by what I can only imagine is humiliating remorse. I bite my tongue nonetheless, for his sake. 

“I’m sorry for bringing up things that happened in the past out of spite.” I whisper, acutely aware of my misdeed. I grimace in shame as I furiously wipe more fresh tears from my face. I choke out my next words. “That wasn’t fair and was so terrible of me. It was so fucked up.” 

“Mmhm.”

“And I’m sorry for not telling you that [ex’s name] was going to be there in order for us to go to that dinner.” I’m blubbering like a whale now. You would think I would have a sense of embarrassment at the way I’m acting right now but in my desperation I forgo all semblance of my dignity. “I can’t believe I kept that from you. All I was thinking about was how badly I wanted to go to this party and I disregarded your feelings on the matter. To do what? Drink and get high? Rub elbows with interesting people? What was I thinking?”

“....Yeah.” A pregnant pause. The silence is palpable and I almost regret bringing it up at all. I go to elaborate more but he speaks before I get the chance.

“I know you didn’t mean to invalidate my feelings or whatever our therapist says. It just hurt me that you knew I would have a problem with it and actively decided to keep it from me. That’s all.” Mateo quietly murmurs.

“I know. I’m so fucking sorry. I’m selfish. I’m an asshole! I’m sorry for calling you crazy and mean for acting justifiably upset about the whole thing. I didn’t mean it. Your trust means everything to me and I was the one who betrayed it. I love you okay? I didn’t realize how much that hurt you. All I was thinking about was myself. I’m so stupid.”

He leans over to kiss me. Mateo moves to sit back down but I cup his face in my hands, reciprocating his affection with small pecks of my own which he returns in kind. I deepen the kiss, our lips move over each other slowly as if to say sorry.

Reluctantly, I am the first to break away. He's still inches away from me and we sit there in solemn silence just taking each other in. When he’s this close I can really study the finer details of his countenance. The wrinkles near his eyes that he adamantly denies exist. The bags under his eyes have grown only darker in these past few months due to the lack of sleep and stress which I no doubt probably have contributed to on top of the endless workload from Valorant Protocol and the hardships of everyday life. It’s been relentless missions after missions as of late. On the rare occasions where we had  not conflicting schedules, Mateo had been too fatigued to even function. It scared me to see him like that, entirely spent. Often, resting for hours on end only to wake up, eat, then knock out in a dreamless sleep, then repeat the cycle until he had to leave again. Brimstone is working the poor boy to the bone and I can’t even be mad, as I know the rising tensions and imminent danger has only grown worse as the threat of violence is ever present. I know my boyfriend is needed, but sometimes I need him too. It’s hard loving someone who is so highly essential in the war effort but I’m proud of him. He’s a hero and the world needs more good people like him, even if it’s at the expense of our wellbeing.

Even now I see the physical effects of this fight on his face. The sternness of his strong brows, the dull look in his coffee eyes, how the lines in his forehead crease as he stares back at me so plainly. He’s exhausted and so am I, physically and mentally drained from this evening’s event. Guilt weighs heavy in my chest as I struggle to breathe evenly. I count every lash, every freckle, every mole, everything that is a part of him and makes him the man I am so fond of.

“I’m sorry for making you feel like shit tonight. You don't have to forgive me but do you still love me?” I pout.

“Woah woah wait babe. Of course I love you. But I didn’t get to say my piece yet.” Mateo straightens his posture and perks up. He flashes a toothy grin at me, one that this boy has shown me many times before. My heart flutters at the fond memories. 

“Oh right, sorry. Go on.” I breathlessly chuckle. Mateo dramatically inhales and exhales, chest rising in tandem as he readies himself for what he’s going to say next. I roll my eyes at his theatrics which I believe is solely for my benefit and serves no other purpose besides to bolster my hesitant entertainment. I would be lying if I said that it doesn’t work its magic on me. My boyfriend knows me too well. Blame it on all the years we’ve been together.

“Babe, I’m sorry for being jealous and possessive.” He’s clasping his hands together in a prayer motion and rests his chin on top of his fingertips. Mateo juts out his bottom lip, eyelashes quivering as he dramatically blinks. The image is comical and I burst out laughing at his silly display, instantly feeling a lot lighter. The green haired boy is just like a puppy when he wants to be and knows exactly how to destroy all my self-constructed, self-preserving walls. “I know I need to work on that but I definitely shouldn’t have taken it out on you. It’s not your fault that you’re smoking hot, sexy, amazing, beautiful, smart, and that everyone wants a bite of you. I was angry in the moment because of the lying but you said it was over and I trust you. Maybenotthembutidigressanyways-”

“HEY-!” I playfully slap his arm.

“I’m sorry for making us late and forcing us to go even though we were fighting and making us have to leave early because of it. I wanted to save face in front of our friends but that backfired. I shouldn’t have put appearing fine to everyone as a priority when we clearly weren’t. I thought I was so macho for thinking I could be fine with [ex’s name] but I wasn’t. I wasn’t fine at all. You can call me insecure–or-or irrational or whatever. I wanted to prove you wrong so badly. I wanted you to feel bad for even thinking about keeping it away from me. I wanted you to feel dumb which is fucked up, I know. But it turns out you were right. Somehow you’re always right. We should have worked it out or called it off in order to not subject anyone to what happened earlier.”

“Agreed.” A small smile graces my lips. “But I’m not always right! I was being selfish. It was thoughtless of me.” 

“Babe, It’s my turn now.” Mateo gives me a serious look and I try my best to not laugh at the unusual expression that my lighthearted boyfriend almost never dons. “I yelled at you in front of our friends. I should never lose my temper at all, especially in public. It was no excuse to raise my voice like that or curse you or anyone out. I’m sorry I put you through that.”

“Thank you for saying that. I feel much better now.” I kiss his cheek. Relief floods my senses. He understands and that’s more than enough. 

“I love you.” He tells me.

“I love you too.”

“I still fucking hate [ex’s name].” Mateo scoffs, sulking like a baby. He turns the key in the ignition and the engine roars to life. “So does Wingman, Thrash, and Dizzy. So you know I’m right.” 

“You JUST said you wouldn’t cuss anyone out.”

“Ay, mi vida. Al mal tiempo, buena cara.”

My boyfriend revs the car in unnecessary fashion before high tailing it to our shared home. We speed along the empty road as the sky above us turns less gray with each passing minute. The looming trees that were so intimidating in the night grow less daunting in the warm, orange light of the morning sun. An unknown weight falls off my weary shoulders as the troubles of the night slips away along with the darkness. For the first time, the drive is airy and free. I look out to see what's ahead. Broken white lines stretch out before us and disappear underneath the car only to fade away into the distance behind us. Relishing in my newly acquired contentment, our eyes meet in the rearview mirror. 

I smile and so does he. I feel lighter than ever. 

“Never change Mateo.”