Survival Of The Fittest

Manuel avoided thinking about the possible implications of his sister becoming a cosplay fan as the table was set. His girlfriend did it! It was normal stuff, a normal hobby. Not like Mona of all people would show anything illicit to a young gi

hey what was that about making a bomb

Manuel's head jutted upwards and he quickly set to squinting as he made several connections in his mind: bomb head, they're talking about anime cosplay, something something buzzsaw man. Yeeesh he needed to calm himself down. Overprotective older brother instincts sometimes felt like a chore. You know what don't feel like a chore? LUNCH! No matter how much your girlfriend teases you about wanting to present your masterpiece with some pizzazz.

Next came his turn to get her flustered- at least inadvertently. He knew the recipe was special to her from her mom, but this wasn't the impact he'd expected. It was cute to look at, though, meaning total victory. He grinned in that lovey-smug way placing everything down on the table, getting pretty hungry himself.

"No sé de qué está-"

His heart stopped a little as a very beautiful woman threw herself into his arms. Now this was a reaction he'd if nothing else had been hoping for. His arms moved to gently and comfortably wrap around her, the grin on his face softening into a smile. Tiny stuck-out-tongue tease at Rosa's reaction before all attention turned back down to Mona. God, she was always so soft. Just so nice to hold. His heart would melt a little any time he could. Angel nuzzling into him, oh the heaven this was. Little nuzzle right back with some soft words.

"For you, muñequita, nothing's good enough."

Punctuating that utterly saccharine (his beloved, at least around the bae) moment with his classic kiss on top of the head, he took her hand in his, got her to gently release the grip and led her right back to the table.

"Now c'mon, let's eat. We can snuggle more after lunch."

See, he could tease too. It's all about the mindset.

She stayed there for a long moment, hidden against his gently beating heart. A little stutter and skip, which was probably just all her as opposed to a medical issue. And then, steady. Serene. Security blankets could never.

She didn't want the moment to endit eventually would.

She wanted to be his, forevernobody would ever stay.

"<You're good enough.>"

Ack. The two of them would drown to death in the molasses. Still, he was the one who gently pried them apart. Not like she'd been keen on ending the moment.

Blah blah blah she had something in her eye. She took her seat gently. A compulsive finger tapped where her eye melted into the gamer girl eye bags hidden by carefully layered medium-coverage concealer. No wetness.

"Holding you to that."

Better be at least half an hour worth of stealing his warmth. Minimum, grumble grumble.

Rosa, of course, was served first. Mona smiling-ly encouraged her to eat a healthy amount of everything and not just steal all the bread rolls. Otherwise, how could she possibly grow taller than Jimena? That definitely got Rosa to consider a much more balanced diet, at least for that plate.

"<Would you like me to lead prayer?>" She didn't know when she'd started doing that, an eternity agoin a broken home, but she'd never stopped. She was open-minded enough to say it to herself without involving others. A whispered prayer under her breath. But she would always say it.

One of the sweeter things being in a relationship had taught Manuel was that there was no nicer feeling out there than someone else (preferably cute) feeling safe being held by you. Made them feel good, made you feel good. Especially the affirmations. Each sweet nothing always hit like a truck. Truck of good feelings. So unabashedly sickly sweet. God, she's like an angel

"You'd better." He grinned as everyone finally took their seat- well, except for him, he had to stay up a bit and actually serve everyone. Another shoutout to Bae for somehow convincing Rosa to eat normal proportions of each part of lunch. Top tier sister-in-law material (You didn't hear that). The smile on his own face as he sat down to eat was huge. Could he be any happier? Probably. Maybe they have a really sweet time at prom next year or something. Oh, who knows? Exciting!

He was about to start digging in when Mona asked her question. He didn't react with any surprise or aversion, instead putting down the spoon and nodding at her, smiling. Rosa seemed to do the same, and the two siblings seemed ready to follow along. This wasn't anything unusual to them; you didn't have a family as big as theirs without indulging a few devout aunts and uncles and grandparents.

"Sigue." he said, respectfully. He could stand just smelling his own cooking a few moments longer if it meant Mona would be a bit happier.

Mona, too, resisted the clarion call of devouring half the spread in one bite solely through faith in His name. Heaven, heh, forbid that the vapors of Manuel's expert wrist game not suffuse into every nerve ending of her nose.

She steepled her hands, a quiet stilling and soothing the angry bees of her thoughts.

"Padre celestial, enaltecido sea Tu nombre,"

The gentle high piano note of her voice settled into something deeper in the chest.

"Te damos gracias por Tu bondad y por Tu lealtad,
Señor, te damos gracias por estos alimentos,
Bendice las manos que los hicieron.
Por favor, bendice esta comida,
Te lo pedimos todo,
en el santo nombre de Jesús.
Amen."

Short and to the point. The prayer she or Mom or Jimena recited at the family table back home was a good deal longer, usually at least somewhat ad-libbed with a daily report. Dad like to ask about this and that clause any of his girls would throw in. Both because he was learning Spanish, and because he was curious about a religion he did not follow.

She was thankful for the men in her life.

"Thanks for indulging me." Back to her more girlish tones. "Let's gettem."

She tried not to but, yeah, had to go for the bread first. It was like dropping into bed after a long day, the tension escaping the flesh from the ankles up. Spiritual experience.

"<How dare you be this good a cook. Where do you get off?>" A laugh. Between bites, of course. She wasn't an animal.

Manuel didn't think much of Christianity. He had a few relatives who he'd stayed with for a weekend and they'd made him go to church once or twice, but he'd never really gotten it. He got things like Kwanzaa. And he got Día de los Muertos. Back to Christianity he certainly got its Oh God and Holy Shit bits (who didn't). But actively praying to the Christian God as in the religion? Just thinking about it made him go 'eeeehh.'

These thoughts made him feel bad because his girlfriend was an angel and absolutely nothing in the world should be done to contradict her or her views in any capacity.

It was almost a bit enlightening hearing how she prayed. That change in tone, that deeper, almost purer timbre that took root in her voice was a sound for sore ears. Everything that came out of her mouth was music, but this was the slow orchestral bridge before the last chorus of the song. The really beautiful one that was there like 65% of the time quote him on that. He could content himself with any of the actual contents of the prayer as long as it was Mona saying it.

Man fuck you talmnbout "Señor te damos gracias". Señor didn do shit that was all him.

Khm. Anyway.

His eyes opened back up and his lips broadened back into a smile as Mona's prayer ended, marking the shift of her tone back into that sweet, classic, light melody. And now. Possibly more importantly. it was time to EAT! Manuel lifted a spoonful of soup along with a chunk of conch meat to his mouth and slurped that right down. MMMh. You have any idea how amazing it is being able to cook? You just get to do this shit anytime you want. He whispered to himself.

"Manuel. You've done it again."

Turning back to the bae, he grinned a twinge smugly at her joking remark, taking one of the buns for himself for future soup-dipping purposes.

"No sé. Pregúntale a mis abuelos y grandparents."

Two separate categories. Shoutout to the Hernándezes. Shoutout to the Loveridges. God-tier masterchefs. Man, was he lucky to be born to both those families.

Indulge her. Her sin forgiven, her punishment for the sin stayed through His gracewhy, by his arbitrary will alone? and the sin forgotten.

She had never gotten the sense that Manuel cared much for her piousnesswhy did his opinion matter?. They'd spoken about it as casually as debating sharing lunch in the cafeteria's indoor versus outdoor area. A subject without gravityshe could perhaps salve his soul with time. It didn't really matterit did.

"<Heard that. You're cute when you have an ego.>"

What could she say? She loved confidence. The more it danced on the edge of the knifeinches from her skin and threatened to swan dive into arrogance, the greater the thrill. There was almost no such thing as too much, in her opinion.

Indulge her.

"<I'll be sure to tell them you sent me.>" Mona hadn't made much of a show of it, but the bread roll had vanished in an instant. Not a crumb left on her lip or on the table. No noise of enjoyment, but her eyes had brightened until they'd been a cloud hiding the sun, almost pristine. Now, soup. A bowl almost overflowing, and a spoon expertly balanced on the tips of two fingers and a thumb.

She ate a bit slower.

"<Rosa, how is it?>"

Rosa, so inclined, praised her brother in no small words. Mona agreed with a smile, glancing at her boyfriend to make sure the adrenaline shots had landed right on the arteries.

"<Now what else should I tell your grandparents? About the ways you've said you love me? The things you've promised to show me>?" She laughed between spoonfulls. That could have implied a lot of things. The words they had shared had sometimes gotten... teen hormones, so on, so forth
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (she would gladly welcome an encore of those moments pleaaaaaseee)
and some things had really just been meant for the two of them. Manuel's younger sister made a cute little eeh? to signal her confusion.

"Ay, chitón. You'd have an ego too."

Grinning as the amount of soup in his bowl got smaller and smaller, some lost directly to the spoon, some soaked up in the bread and devoured. Seeing how rapidly Mona and Rosa put his food away in concordance with him only fed his enthusiasm almost as much as he was actually being fed. Only almost. It was really good soup. Everything made the atmosphere just so much... nicer. So much comfier for, say, some cute and witty banter exchange between partners.

Or, in this case, compliment bait? Praise from a little sister was never supposed to be particularly special. They have a switch with three default settings anyway: sent from hell to kill you, implacable apathy or singing ballads of your glories. But damn if it didn't hit Manuel in the feels every time. He rolled his eyes in an unmistakably trying and failing to shrug it off way, but his wide smile spoke volumes. That was probably it, honestly. His rat girlfriend trying to get him to smile. Underhanded, using his own sister. Grrr.

He turned his attention completely back to Mona just in time for her to start her next jokey explicitly-meant-to-provoke tangent, the type she was some professional at. God, babe, not in front of Rosa! Visible blush in his cheeks as he rushed to gulp the current bite of soup-soaked bread in his mouth down, trying to recompose himself. Uhh, bite back, bite back. Hit her with something playful.

"Psh- yeah- Diles la fecha de la boda."

NOT THAT PLAYFUL.

Nervous giggle
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (so nervous
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (so so nervous
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (aaaaaaaaa)))
and Mona a moment later waved her hand. Brush off the fluster, only, it was painted in the sudden ruddy dusting over her cheeks.

Rosa raised an eyebrow. No way she wasn't totally aware of that little slip up. Ahh. Good time as any for Mona to fall into the core of the Earth, never to be seen againlegitimately, it was what she deserved. All sins judged before His gaze.

----

The rest of lunch passed most pleasantly, most deliciously, blah blah blah, other superlatives that could feed the ego her dear sweet bobito. That thing ate more than everyone at the table combined.

A quick clean up, a banishing of Rosa to the living room for her early afternoon nap which she'd only wake up from when her parents returned and Cielo nommed at her fingers until she startled out of her slumber. That left them... at least half an hour? At Manuel's estimate.

She had been totally right, incidentally. His room was no small mess. The newsroom spin was that it had a natural lived in quality to it
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (The mental impulsiveness that came with a mind full of ambition and recipies, unchecked.
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (A life lived by the very superlatives he ate up.
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (Something like that. She definitely wanted to do more reading on the implications at some point.
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (Everyone in the Hernández house was the opposite of her own home. Her own room, Jimena's room. Everything clean, in its place. That said... somethingthat she was an abnormal freak who couldn't let the little things go))))
and one that was, ah. Suffused with his scent. Subtle, like the briefest kiss of perfume to the skin, but. God and heaven could not help her, so on. She was only humanonly weak and pitifully animal.

She nervously invited herself onto his bed, seated at the edge. Extended a hand, one finger. Beckoned.

"It's after lunch. You owe me."

A soft sigh of an exhale. Smile gentle. Eyes weak, wobbly. Vulnurable.

Uncharacteristic deaaaaaad silence!

Manuel was thankful for his melanin at the moment for its ability to hide the embarrassingly large amount of red covering his face. Desperately trying not to think of what'd just come out his mouth, he just kept polishing off his soup and expressly making sure that he did not look Rosa in the eye because he knew exactly the face that she was making. Conversely, looking at pookie made that sweet sappy whatever in his heart get worse because of her blush and uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh crap crap crap just eat.

----

Lunch ended up hitting a wrap pretty soon afterwards, the rest of the event having been dotted by Mona's compliments (not unwelcome). Endgame was pushed through, with tables and bowls cleaned up, and Rosa benched off (sent to the couch for siesta). Now, Manuel had Mona in his room and all to himself, where he could properly appreciate how much of a loser his ass was in comparison oh dios mio why hadn't he cleaned up and it smelled so bad oh god oh man etc.

However, he seemed to be the only person actually worried about that kind of thing, as Mona sat herself on his bed with a small and adorable smile on her face. He remembered the promise he'd made directly before Mona reminded him of it, and grinned to himself as she did, observing her other mannerisms. She was doing that thing he'd learned to recognize, where she was trying to be tease-y but was actually super nervous. He knew it well because he also did it. They were both kind of losers and it was really sweet.

He approached Mona, passed over her to get himself deeper into the bed, and immediately grabbed at her to fit her against him like a tetris block, little spoon style. One hand around her waist, the other acting as a sort of subdermal pillow where he could both provide her comfort and play with her hair. He loved how she just seemed to fit against him. Perfect plays. MVP cuddles. He whispered sweetly to her:

"Alright, muñequita. I'm all yours."

Yes, she was totally cool and coy and coquettish
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (and coping)
those were her triple Cs. She totally had him wrapped around her finger.

Wrapped around the rest of her, too. Mona was, legitimately, too nervous to even giggle or yelp or otherwise be as girlish as she tried to front that she was not. Her concerns
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (was she too squishy for him?
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (not enough?
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (was her breath too sour from lunch?)))
were all completely unfounded and deranged, and they had literally shared this moment countless times before in the few months they'd woven their lives together, and yet she couldn't help but dwell on them for a painful, infinitely long momentwhere she was sure he would leave her like she deserved to be left alone.

That melted away, the moment she was in his arms. She didn't even need to wiggle much- the fit was just right. A bit of dancing her head around so she wasn't crushing her own ear, not stabbing him with the boniest part of her cheekbone. Her hair was probably in a billion different places now, but he'd sneeze her off if need be. They were like that. Not sweating the little thingsshe could trust him. She was safe.





And time passed, quietly. Mona didn't want to disrupt the silent spell that had been woven over the moment.










"Manuel? I..."

"There's something I want to talk about."

She sounded unsure.

"Not anything bad, I mean. Just... things I haven't told you. Anyone."

God's comfiest position. She was just so... pliant. Was that a word? Manuel didn't pay a lot of attention in English. He didn't dare move either way, she was already perfect and that was the point. He didn't want to be the reason a perfect cuddle sesh was ruined. Thus, the only movement coming from him was a bit of playful nuzzling and the hopefully inconspicuous sniffing of whatever fourty-dollar shampoo Mona had on that made Manuel briefly contemplate the implications of the total skew of any and all beautification products towards women before immediately reverting to "my gf soft nd I like her". He put on a small smile and tried to focus on the moment, on how he could feel her heart beating against him and it made his own heart beat faster in tandem.

Everything was perfect right now.





Until it slightly wasn't.

"...Mmm?"

He was gently roused from the pleasant trance by Mona's voice. The contents made him interested. The tone made him worried. He held onto her a bit more tightly, intending to act as some pre-emptively grounding force. Things she hadn't told anyone... he had to make sure she could keep her trust in him althroughout this. It meant being caring and attentive and all the other serious shit. Well, he was there, and he was ready.

"Mona? You can tell me anything."

Shea Moisture Coconut and Hibiscus, actually. Eight dollars at Walgreens.

His heartbeat grounded her. His warmth was like the background warmth of the universe. Everywhere, a sign of their Creator's design.
Why was she spoiling perfection? Why was she saying things? What the fuck was wrong with her?

She adjusted ever so slightly. His muscular arm around her waist, a bit tighter, to keep her where she belonged. Somewhere safe, the perfect fitand she was going to ruin it.

"Eres un sol."

A long pause. Mona didn't know how to admit what she didn't even know if she wanted to admit.





"I... just."

"I don't think it's obvious to tell but."

"Jimena has panic attacks."

"Bad ones."

"I just."

A hiccup. She was starting to cry.

"She feels safe here."

"It's so hard for her to find safe places, Manuel, I-"

She drunk down the sudden abundance of mucus, slurped with all the tears before they went the wrong way and ruined Manuel's bedsheets.

"I can't thank you enough. Or Rosa, or your parents, or... For being so good to us. I know it's stupid, it's just-"

Still more expensive than anything he'd ever put in his hair. Still smelt like a little slice of heaven in his arms. As he'd established to himself several, several times before: angel on earth. Her pause after employing her adorable name for him felt like it lasted a century and then some. It made him slightly nervous, thinking that something like this was outside his control. So, he just kept holding her. If nothing else, he could be her rock. Her anchor.

She was so quiet when she started to speak. Manuel didn't let it unnerve him, focusing on listening. Her small stutters, the tone, all speaking about Jimena and her... experiences. Manuel understood. He'd probably end up the same if he was talking about Rosa like that. A deep welling melancholy began to stir as he listened, and when he heard her begin to cry, his heart outright wrenched.

His grip immediately tightened a bit more. God he couldn't bear that sound. Someone this perfect should never have to feel like this. Should be that it's as simple as that. He nuzzled himself slightly into the crook of the back of her shoulder. It wasn't only what she was doing, it was what she was saying. It would be confusing if it wasn't sad. Jimena felt safe here? That was good. That was great! And Mona was thanking him for it right here and... crying about it.

It wasn't right. Not at all.

He planted a kiss in that spot he'd nuzzled for her comfort. He'd listened. Now it was time for her to feel better.

"Shh. It's okay, muñequita."

Whisper soft as a breeze, contrasting the solidity of the comfort his body provided. He was glad for his height right about now.

"It's not stupid. It's not. I'm so glad we can be there for her like that. Please..."

His own breath shuddered slightly at his words. Keep it together, damn it. For her. For her.

"...Please don't cry."

"I. I'm sorry. I won't."

She had definitely ruined the moment. He must have felt so awkward and gross with her just dumping that on him. The story of a girl who'd loved everyone in a small household hidden away in the basement of a poorly maintained Los Angeles, who had inherited her eyes from the woman who had inherited her eyes from a woman who had loved her husband more than anything else.

Mona wriggled, an earthworm drowning in the rain. The softness granted to her by puberty suddenly awkward, the confidence in her motions gonethe stage crew queen, master of all the anime club. A fledgling, in the grand scheme of things, a babe in His eyes.

Always the same eyes, Ramona's own, even when the woman who had given them to her yelled and screamed. Even when the belt bit deep into the flesh of her shoulder already raw red triple quadruple stamped by leather.





"That was stupid for me to say. Sorry."

She didn't know what else to say.

"I love you."

A long exhale, with most of the air not coming from her lungs, but somewhere deeper and more primal stillJob 27:3-4. As much of the soul as the body.

Manuel almost froze up holding her for a moment. Oh God no he'd made everything worse. He could almost feel the way she just got smaller. Not in the positive and sweet connotation, but in the way that she'd feel horrible about the smallest things that weren't supposed to be things you felt bad about but they still mattered to her and he just made it worse by trying to invalidate her and. And.

It wasn't stupid. It was the farthest thing from it. But Manuel didn't seem to understand it like Mona did. It never seemed that he could. So how could he help her?

...He could be an anchor. Her anchor. Always and forever.

So he reaffirmed himself. Just a little tighter. Still that sweet spot of holding where it was comfort. Saying that he's there. Not just with his actions, but with his words.

"It's not. You're okay."

And he believed it with all his heart, as evidenced by how the words escaped his lips. The next words out of hers warmed his heart slightly. It was a bit of a balm to the sorrowful dampness that had been applied to the moment. He smiled slightly and nuzzled her a little bit more. Soft. Beautiful.

"Te amo también, muñequita."

Thumps of his heart on the back of her chest, and he felt hers in tandem on his. Harmony.

Heaven.