(no subject)
His father used to give him sound advice, once upon a time. He used to speak words of wisdom far beyond Roberto’s young comprehension but he always listened closely, hoping to glean just a little more knowledge. He remembered watching his mother pack her suitcase-- Not far and not forever, darling and looked to his father for answers.
His father told him, barely looking up from his work: A woman’s heart has a thousand doors, son. Only a foolish man would to try and knock them all down.
His father would laugh at him now, Roberto thought wryly, watching his son scramble to knock down the elusive doors that stood between him and Amara. Physically she was there with him-talking with him, joking with him, fighting with him-but often he caught her distance gaze, the seemingly innate coldness that she sometimes gave off despite her physical warmth.
Being Roberto, he didn’t want to just knock down doors, he wanted to blow them up.
Roberto never had to deal with a woman like Amara before. He was good looking and rich and charismatic-getting women was easy. His attempts to both get Amara’s attention and deal with constant rejection were misguided, at best, downright sad, at worse. Parades of girls came and went through the X-Mansion night after night, week after week. Blondes, brunettes, redheads, black, white, Asian- but unfortunately, another one of his father’s lessons had appeared in his mind. This time, something about economics and utility and the unlimited desires of humans. The more he got of what he didn’t really want, the less he wanted.
“Are you stupid?” Dani asked him plaintively at breakfast one morning. “No, don’t answer that, I already know.”
“Don’t know what you mean,” he tore into a bagel casually. Roberto was shirtless, since last night’s conquest-a tall and willowy brunette who had, at first, seemed gentle and mild-had ripped it right off him. That part was kind of awesome; it was the excessive biting that led to excessive bleeding that had been a turn off.
“I just saw Amara discreetly give Cujo,” she motioned to a claw mark on his shoulder, “cab fare home to spare the poor girl some humiliation. She did the Walk of Shame in front of ex-students.”
Roberto’s eye twitched and his first instinct was to scream, Really?! and maybe throw an epic level hissy fit because how could Amara be so collected about everything? “I think she’s a relative of Rahne’s,” he said with a mouthful of food. “Those nails were no joke.”
“You’re a terrible person and getting exactly what you deserve,” his teammate motioned at him threateningly with her banana. “Maybe if you actually showed a little bit of sincerity, Amara would stop treating you like a joke.”
Before he could brattily retort about Dani’s dating status, suspected allegations of the sexy lesbian kind, and when was the last time she actually got properly fucked?, Amara, Sam, and Doug walked into the kitchen. Sam immediately launched into a lecture about how to treat women while Doug looked on helplessly.
“Breakfast, ‘Mara?” Dani asked. Roberto waited for at least an eye roll or shove from Amara about the current situation. Something.
The blonde only shook her head. “No, thank you, Dani.”
“Why?” Roberto asked before he could stop himself. “Going to see Manny?”
Everyone in the kitchen seemed to collectively hold their breath. They just didn’t talk about that. It was a known and accepted fact but no one talked about it like this (at least with Amara in hearing range).
After what seemed like ten years, Amara merely took an apple, walking out of the kitchen without another word. Everyone exhaled, even Roberto who didn’t even realize he was holding his breath, though it was for an entirely different reason than the rest of the team.
“Your body language says you feel very defeated,” Doug said helpfully. “And disappointed.”
“Shut up, Ramsey.”
---
Roberto moped for about ten seconds before he resolved to brush this off and continue sleeping his way through New York. He had been looking through his cell phone for tonight’s date (“Do you really have them listed by how hot you find them?” Sam had asked. “Dude, it’s the ONLY classification system that works!”) when he heard Dani, Amara and Shan’s voices from downstairs.
“I knew this was a terrible idea,” Shan was giving Dani a look that Roberto had only ever seen a wife give to their husband-it was the “You’re on the couch indefinitely” look, though he had no time to delve into this further since Dani, who looked a little singed, was all but holding up Amara.
“I’m sorry I burned you, Dani,” Amara’s head was resting on Dani’s shoulder and it didn’t look like she wanted to get up anytime soon.
He smelled alcohol. “Is she drunk?” Roberto asked Dani, half amused, half accusing. That seemed so out of character for Amara, who had only ever had wine and beer, and never to the point of inebriation. It was kind of endearing to see her let her guard down and actually have some fun with the team. It was also kind of frightening-had something happened to make her want to get drunk?
“I most certainly am not,” she insisted. Amara let go of Dani to walk, head held high and with dignity, only to promptly fall against Roberto. Her body temperature seemed even higher than usual, no doubt in an attempt to burn all of that alcohol she consumed. He held her close.
“I’ll get this drunk to bed,” Roberto picked her up bridal style with a flourish; Dani rolled her eyes and Shan looked relieved. Amara gasped in protest. “Come on, menina. I’ll make sure no one else sees you falling all over yourself. You have a rep to protect, after all.” That shut her up for the moment but Amara looked indignant none the less
“I think I may be a little drunk,” Amara finally relented as he hoisted her up the stairs, leaving Dani and Shan to have another married-couple-esque-not-quite-whisper-fight about whose fault this was and mutually deciding they weren’t going to ever tell Sam about this.
He snorted good naturedly, night plans completely forgotten in favor of spending time with her. Her head was tucked neatly under his chin and her hair smelled good, despite the alcohol and smoke. “You don’t say?” Roberto set her down on the bed, unsure of what to do next. If this were Sam, he would just roll him on his side to make sure he wasn’t going to choke on his own vomit and call it a night.
She must have caught him eyeing the door. “Don’t go yet.”
Roberto’s throat went a little dry. This was a dangerous situation. She was drunk and he was sober, which meant that nothing could happen. He had done a lot of stupid, thoughtless, and horrible things in his short life but he would never take advantage of her like this… despite how very tempting it was with her stripping her clothes off. Her modest shirt and skirt were now on the floor and she was on her bed in only underwear.
He thought the unsexiest thoughts possible. Sam having sex. Mojo having sex.
Roberto looked down at the floor where her bra was now resting.
Sam and Mojo having sex together.
He risked looking up, relieved that she was under her blankets. “Thank you for carrying me,” Amara said sleepily and weirdly, he realized that in the long amount of time he had known her, he had rarely ever seen her sleep. Her face was relaxed and vulnerable and he couldn’t stop himself from sitting at the edge of her bed to just look at her. He probably loved her, he thought with a quiet and derisive laugh, and she thought he was a joke.
As he pulled the blankets over her more tightly, Roberto realized that he might not have-or ever would- broken the thousand doors of this woman’s heart, but had at least nudged one open.
For now, that was enough.