Page 15 of Heat Haze
Even with my voice breaking at the end, Toro doesn’t ease up on the cuddling. He simply pulls back a little, looking at me with an adoring smile. He nods. Okay. He agrees, doesn’t he?
The question is answered almost as soon as it’s asked. His fingers trace over my chin, bringing me in closer as our foreheads press together. I let my eyes shut, feeling his breath against my face. For a minute I think he’s about to kiss me, but instead he just lets our noses rub together. He repeats the action a few times, a large hand snaking its way down to my chest.
He presses his palm where my heart is, before helping guide my hand to his own beating heart, like he’s trying to share it with me. Toro doesn’t move after, his forehead planted against mine while focusing on the way my heart thumps against my skin. His heart beats too, slower than mine but just as heavy.
I think I understand what he's trying to say.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The next few days are quiet, lazing around his bedroom and never daring to step outside of it. Just because the family has accepted the fact I’m here doesn’t mean they’re happy about it, and if Toro wasn’t around I don’t wanna imagine what they’d do to me.
But it’s nice now. The sun is setting and the room is tolerably warm. Toro gently paws at the collar of my shirt. What was once a pale white is now stained with dirt and sweat. The same could be said about the rest of my outfit. I hadn’t even really noticed it until now, taking in the disheveled state of myself.
I was able to snag a shower here and there, but the idea of wearing anything else hadn’t even crossed my mind until now. His digits glide across the fabric of my top, before finding their way to the hem.
He goes to pull it off, before stopping dead in his tracks. With wide eyes he begins to pull at the bottom of his own shirt, repeating the motion a few times as if to ask me to mimic it. I give him a hesitant nod before I begin lifting my shirt, ignoring the way he’s staring at me with zero discretion.
After the first few inches of skin are shown off, Toro turns his head away, and I catch the way his cheeks turn red. He only turns back when I’m done, grabbing the shirt from my hand before disappearing into his closet. After rummaging through his clothes he returns with a shirt that’s too small for him, holding it out to me.
I reach forward, grabbing it. The indigo fabric is thin in my fingers, and after holding it up to myself it seems like it’ll definitely fit. I glance down at the crew neck shirt, headtilting before slowly looking back up at Toro. It’s hard to imagine him wearing it.
“It’s… for me?”
Toro’s eyes light up and he eagerly shakes his head. I slip the shirt over my head, the lower half flowing down to cover my thighs. It’s huge on me, and it’s not as though I’m particularly small or anything.
“Thanks,” I murmur. “This is… cozy.”
Itiscozy. It smells like laundry detergent, which is a pleasant surprise. It’s warm and despite being a little too big, it’s nice to have something new to wear. Something that doesn’t remind me ofthatnight. My eyes flicker over to the window, which is still closed.
Toro seemingly catches on, not so stealthily stepping in front of me to block it from sight. A gruff whine rips from his throat, and before I know it he’s all over me trying to cuddle. I let my hand lazily comb through his hair, the sound of his breathing heavy and low.
Funnily enough, I wasn’t really thinking about trying to run. Not again. Seeing him stand up to his family formeis… it’s new, to say it simply. He’s risking so much, and maybe I just have too big of a goddamned heart but I don’t want to hurt him.
Obviously I’m not saying I want to live the rest of my life here in this farmhouse from hell. But maybe for a little while it will be okay. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about him. Nothing about this place is normal, especially not him. But not being normal doesn’t mean you’re bad, it just means you’re different.
The room is quiet, dust particles floating through the air like stars in orbit. I’m content to just keep sitting there,until I hear the low rumble of what I think is Toro’s stomach. He doesn’t stir at all, but I do.
“Are you hungry?” My voice is soft, still stroking at his head as he rests his face in my chest. He doesn’t seem to react at first, but his eyes slowly open to look up at me. There’s hesitance, like he’s trying to ensure this isn’t some grand escape plan. Finally he lets out a noise that sounds like a ‘yes.’
My lips curve upwards, which he mirrors as I bring my hand down from his hair to rest on his shoulder. “Can I… cook you something to eat?”
Toro shoots up, nodding so eagerly his head bounces around like a bobblehead. His hand reaches for mine, and I let our fingers intertwine. With a smile he pulls me off the bed, wooden planks creaking beneath us. He pulls me close, chest to chest like we’re about to start dancing, before he moves to my side and keeps a firm hold on me.
The hallway is longer than I remember. In the heat of the moment everything felt so small, I could barely even see it all with how teary my eyes were. Now here I am, holding hands with one of them. The walls are full of family photos, a lot of them in black and white.
My eyes don’t wander for long, because we turn a corner and are back by the staircase. Through the dining room and into the kitchen. Black and white checkered flooring is stained with who knows what.
The furniture is old. An old gas stove sits on its lonesome with a stained white fridge next to it. Celadon green painted cabinets and counters cover nearly every wall, one singular four-panel window nestled just up above the sink. It’s surprisingly clean, unlike the rest of the house.
Alma is already standing there, cutting up vegetables. A salad bowl sits near her, already filled with carrots, cucumber, and lettuce. She peers up at us through her circular-framed glasses, a little grin appearing up on her face.
“Hi,” she goes back to work. “What do you two need?”
I stare at her, glancing over to Toro as if he has an answer for me. He’s too busy rummaging through the fridge, which means I am totally on my own. I actually have to have a conversation, and can’t rely on physical touch to get out of it.
“Hungry.” I spit the word out like I’ve never spoken English before. “Uh, I mean… Toro’s hungry. I was gonna… make him something to eat.”
Alma chuckles dryly at that. “I’m already making lunch. You wanna help, Nico?” The way she speaks to me isn’t like the others. No hidden malice underneath her words, and despite the brief replies she doesn’t seem that bothered by my presence.
