┏━━━━✶ ࣪˖࿐ *━━━━┓

T-SHIRTS

ELLA COULDN'T LEAVE WITHOUT ONE LAST WORD TO SPOOKY.

To put it frankly, she thought that him going after Cuchillos was something akin to a suicide mission. But then again, it was their only option to ensure the younger teens would be safe. 

It still made her uneasy, pondering at the kitchen table about whether he would be the one behind the trigger or not. Would he carry out the deed, have that sort of blood on his hands, or would he make another do it for him?

Based on that little teardrop tattoo he sported, she thought it would be the former option. 

She waited until the Diaz brothers emerged from the main door, Ella stood from the table and beckoned the eldest to follow as the kids began to talk about their friend Jasmine. Spooky followed without a word as she led him to his bedroom, the one at the furthest end of the small hallway.

He stepped in, closing the door with a click behind him, and stayed silent.

"I need you to get your head out of your ass," was the first thing that she all but demanded. "The first whiff of trouble and I want you out of there. I mean it."

"Ella," he stressed, lips pressed in a firm line as he was displeased with her warning.

"Oscar." The world went a silent around them as Ella visibly blanched, eyes blinking as she thought of a way to backtrack. "I didn't mean—"

"Don't," he interrupted, stepping into her personal bubble. In a flash, his hands were resting beneath her jaw, cradling her face in a way that he hadn't done in a long time. His eyes raked her face, almost as if he was memorizing it, while Ella just stood there like a fish out of water. "You don't know how long I've waited for that."

Her eyebrows instantly furrowed. "For what?"

"For you to call me by my name."

Ella's lips pursed for a beat, shuffling her feet in place as she got antsy under his stare. "You're Spooky, are you not?" she fired back with a frown, pushing his hands away from her face.

"To people I could give less than two shits about, maybe," was his quick, albeit gruff response.

"But not to you. Never to you."

Ella's face shuttered, swallowing around nothing in an attempt to compose herself before him. "The first whiff of danger," she repeated instead, "and you get out. Got it?"

His demeanour sobered up. "I'll try," he said. "Under one condition."

Her eyes narrowed on their own. "What I just said was actually non-negotiable, so—"

"That don't matter," he shrugged. "I'll dip if there's danger, if you keep that shirt."

Oh, how she wanted to slap him. "Are you fucking kidding me right now?"

She assumed the condition would be something like take care of Cesar while I do this, or keep an eye on the place while I'm gone; but no, Spooky just had to state the most irrelevant condition that she'd ever heard.

"Nope." And he had the audacity to smile, sharp teeth on display as he nodded toward the shirt she was presently wearing. "Looks good on you, anyway."

Her face flushed, and something weird crawled its way into her skin at the subtle, yet flirtatiously calm tone he used with her.

They didn't do this. Even when they'd been friends, Oscar's tone had never been stretched beyond mere friendliness. He was gruff, gritty, and muttered under his breath more than he'd cared to admit, but he was never like this. Whatever this even was— because Ella was utterly confused.

"If I find out you didn't bolt, I'm gonna burn it," she opted to say instead, shifting in place. "In fact, I'll burn it in front of you. On your porch."

Spooky scoffed out a laugh. "Wow. I'm shaking in my boots, El."

She slapped him on the arm, ignoring the way her stomach flip-flopped at the casual way he'd said it. El.

"You're such an ass."

✶ ࣪˖*

The minute Ella got home was the minute she flopped onto her bed, even more confused than when she'd arrived at the Diaz house.

Her mind, to put it lightly, was fucked.

There was a part of her that so desperately wanted to never see Spooky's stupid face again. He'd hurt her so directly that day, and he was different, now. She didn't know if she could handle the lifestyle that he would always choose time and time again. Even with Cuchillos out of the picture, someone would need to replace her, and the cycle would continue. Like it always did.

But then there was that other part of her, the one that had reared its ugly head the minute his tale of that day on the beach finished. He had a reason that he thought was right, wanted to push her in the right direction without her having to worry over him. Over what he was bound to do. Over what he was bound to become.

That part, that sneaky little part, yearned to have Oscar back. The Oscar that knew about the favourite blanket in the living room, the one that knew whenever she was lying. Though, in light of recent events, it was evident that Oscar was still there, somewhere buried deep within Spooky.

Footsteps tore her from her bitter thoughts— thoughts of two opposing ideals fighting against one another in her mind. She wished she could tell them it was all a losing battle, anyway, and that it wouldn't matter.

It wouldn't matter because she was due back in New York at the end of the summer, and Spooky would be pulled back to the streets by his fellow Santos.

"Now can I ask you about what we walked in on earlier?"

It was Jamal, hands on his hips as he stood at the foot of her bed. She groaned into the mattress, turning her head to the side. "You didn't walk in on anything."

"Oh, so you were just lounging around in his clothes, eating the food he made you, and that was it?" he pestered on, all too unconvinced. "Because if what I'm thinking happened, I'll need to have a word with him."

Ella sat up to face him, frustrated. "Oh yeah? When will you hit him up, J?" she quipped in retort. "Before or after he's killed Cuchillos? Huh?"

He hummed, as if he'd solved a riddle. "Oh, I see what's going on here," he mused knowingly. "You're worried about your new boo-thang."

"Jamal..." she practically growled out, her face flattened with the type of bubbling agitation that could certainly fester whenever her brother was like this— whenever he sleuthed.

He continued on, never one to be deterred by a clear warning. "Hey, I get it! I've had my fair share of forbidden romances once or twice," he dismissed, bragging at the same time.

Ella's face was pulled into one of disgust. "There is no forbidden romance," she said, before tacking on a quick, "in fact, there's no romance period. We aren't even friends."

The last thing the Turner girl wanted to do was open that can of metaphorical worms, because she didn't know where she truly stood with Spooky anymore. She had come home loathing him, cursing his name and cramming her memories of him into the corners of her mind. And now, one lame ass confession was beginning to unravel all that work.

All the work she poured into letting Oscar be buried in the past. Doom crawled up her spine at the thought, because the very opposite was playing out before her eyes.

Jamal raised his hands in the air wistfully. "Believe whatever you want, Ella," he responded, eyes drifting around the room. "I personally think the dude's terrifying. Like, super scary, terrifying, but friends don't act the way y'all do."

Her lips pursed. "With indignation and anger?" she questioned with a raised eyebrow, taunting him to prove her wrong.

But Jamal simply spun on his feet, sighing out into the air around them. "Oh, how I do love a slow burn," he said, making it two steps out the door before his head was appearing in the doorway. "But, you would tell me if anything was up with—"

Something just short of a snarl left her lips. "Jamal!"

"Right. Sorry. Leaving now."

He was gone from sight, leaving Ella to march up from her bed and slam her door shut. Locking it for good measure, she leaned herself against the wood and tried to calmly breathe in through her nose.

Jamal was just pestering her, that was all. She knew that. She'd grown up with that. So, why had it made her so defensive all of a sudden?

And why the hell was she still wearing that goddamn t-shirt?

✶ ࣪˖࿐ *

[ wyn's note ]

guys...... are u picking up what I'm putting down......

hehehehehe I'm chuckling from the depths of my cave rn. also 7K?!?! ugh I love you guys

xx