#elrabid

         ❛  no,   hold  on,   you’re  a  mess   ---  ❜     she’s doing that  thing  that mom’s do,  moistened thumb against the  dirt  decorating her son’s cheek  ---   and she  knows  she’s doing it,  can’t stop it now  ---   before kenny is pulling away from her  (  too  old  for  mom  to  coddle  him,   she  should  have  known  better  )   and running back to the playground where his friends are waiting.   she lets out a sigh,   shaking her head before she realizes she’s not alone,     almost   colliding   with another body.     ❛  oh  !   sorry  i  ---  ❜    immediately flustered,  she drags her hands down the front of her jeans,   a bright smile in place of the frustrated expression from before.  and there’s an almost hysterical  giggle  on the end of her apology,  as if the way she’d startled wasn’t enough.    ❛  ---  didn’t  see  you  there.  ❜

it echoed    :    this time.        this time.        this time.        it was all relative,    the game could be flipped at any second,     he still had the chance to make a move and be the one with the upper hand.        which didn’t make all of this any less annoying.        what happened  ?    when did he get too comfortable to not notice the shift in power  ?    that was a rookie mistake,    he was better than that,    smarter than that.         the sternness of his face hid his rage very much poorly.         it burned in his eyes in a way he was  sure  rafael could feel the heat scorching him  ——— or so he wanted him to.

he didn’t have any of his men with him,    he usually went alone to their meetings,    trusting way too much in their unspoken agreement,    that they wouldn’t back stab one another  —  neither of them a coward,    a million other things,    yes,    but never a coward.        the sadistic bastard in him wanted to torture the other,    to get his hands dirty and bloody. he  CRAVED  for it. he let out a sigh at the realization:    that wasn’t him anymore... if only he had mick by his side at least this one time.

❛     savor it.        it doesn’t belong to you.     ❜

it’s amusing to a limitless extent  how the other seems to hate his guts,    the way his face twitches at the very sight of him,    the way he spits out his name with utmost despise.        it does the job to put a wicked smile on his face,    every time.        it’s never been the hate that bothered him;      actually,    it gives a little something extra to their relationship.         yes,    sometimes,    rafael would say something that leaves a bitter taste in rio’s mouth,    cause he knows which buttons to push to make him snap,    but it goes both ways and that’s  only fair.        they haven’t killed each other  ❪  yet  ❫,    so that’s good  ———  though,    that’s merely ‘cause there had been no real need to. 

if you were to ask him a few years in the past,    rio would say in all confidence, that  his friend  would never pull the trigger.       now?     he didn’t have that confidence.        the line separating their worlds and their morals have become too present,    too thick.        rio had full on crossed it,    and he held no intentions to turn back.

jaw clenched, hard.          to the point it sends a jolt of pain through his system.          it’s all fun and banter, the border separating their sides so clear.          until something like this happens.          there’s vodka in his glass, and he downs it like water.          it burns away his regrets.

i thought i was going to change the world.

so did he.          at first. when he started.           now it’s all a blur.          yes, he does the good work that only a few credit him for, he wears the layers of el bandido generoso, but he still shakes hand with people who are all but generous, who want to destroy what he’s built.          and he does it because it’s the only way to stay in the game. 

and he loves the game.

it’s so loud it echoes, his laughter.           loud and bitter. and when the sound finally ceases, he’s still smiling, it’s a big, obnoxious, prideful smile.          his eyes, though, they tell a different story.          the story of comradely lost.          he can see through rafael’s every and all bullshit.          and rafael can do the same with him.          how fucking annoying.

“          is that so?          ”          his voice unbothered, a tad amused even.          but never faltering.          the last thing he needs is to show just how much those words anger him.          he might be a parasite, he’s not entirely okay with that but he’s lived with that assumption of his / their people his whole life.           but he ain’t nothing.          and when someone dares to come and take him out, people will still remember who he was.          people in his circle will know of him, of the legend he’s become. 

he is not nothing.          never nothing.