Work Text:
Juliana sits in the back of the car.
The city flies by but she doesn’t really notice. The radio plays music she doesn’t really hear either.
Somehow she survived a kidnapping and was rescued by the two men currently sitting in the front. She doesn’t really know what to make of Jacobo and Beltran. One of them is her dad’s body and the other has his soul. So are they her … dads? That’s so weird, she thinks. She misses the days when her biggest worries were money for fashion school.
It doesn’t really matter what Jacopo and Beltran/El Chino are. She’s lived her life without a real dad and she turned out fine. Even if El Chino in Beltran leaves, she’ll be fine. If he stays, she’ll be fine too. She always is.
“I told you to turn left.” El Chino barks at Jacopo
“Don’t tell me where to go, I know perfectly how to do my job.” The other man argues back.
God, they certainly argue like a married couple.
She runs her hands over face and tries to focus on anything but her mind is reeling. She feels so alone. She doesn’t know what do make of anything anymore. Resurrection, transmigration… it’s too much. And in the end, she has nowhere to go anymore. She has no home.
Where is home? Perlita’s cot is a godsend but it’s a temporary solution. Sergio’s apartment is an absolute impossibility - she’s never going back to that place. The Carvajals’ was cold and big and empty, and everyone who lives there thinks she isn’t good enough. They aren’t wrong, but she doesn’t need them to be reminded of it. And then there was Silvinia and Tiberio’s house. That house made her believe in the kindness of the world. She had a room and comfort and space, and it was safe.
It was safe until it wasn’t anymore. Thanks to her mother. She didn’t know how to feel about Lupe either. Her heart would cramp inward every time she thought of her mother’s conditional love. She had done nothing wrong. Not with Valentina, not in her entire life. And yet her mother couldn’t accept her or love her as she was. She didn’t know how to forgive that.
She wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. She isn’t even crying anymore. She has exhausted all the tears in her body, but sometimes a rebellious one escapes.
How could she not forgive Lupe? She was her mother and she had no one else. She sighs to herself as she wraps her arm across her midsection. She doesn’t know how to do this. How to simultaneously accept her mother in her life while knowing it is all conditional; that her mother would never really fully love her as she is. She breathes slowly trying to settle the tremors in her heart.
She doesn’t notice where they are until the car stops. Suddenly everything is louder and she’s terrified because things must move forward from this point on. But where to? When the loudness in her mind quells for only just a bit, she’s able to focus her eyes long enough to notice she’s at Silvinia and Tiberio’s. Her heart takes off again and beats furiously in her chest.
Her dads turn around and face her without saying anything. But she doesn’t really notice them, all she can see is the crouched figure of Valentina by the door. And suddenly, her lungs and heart, and every cell in her body conspire against her. She doesn’t remember how breathing works.
When the car pulls up, Valentina stands up automatically. She looks so lost. She’s nervously playing with her hands and Juliana can feel her anxiety from where she is. But what propels her out of the car into the street isn’t that. It’s Val’s eyes that are bluer than she ever remembers them being. And she knows, they only ever get that blue when she cries. If she was in the mood to be philosophical, she would contemplate the cruelty of a universe that makes Valentina Carvajal look so breathtakingly beautiful when she cries. But she’s in no philosophical mood, and who is she lying to? Valentina is always beautiful.
Juliana finds herself thrown into the street. Her own body acts without any prompts from her. She’s terrified. And she has gone through so much these last few hours? days? But if there’s one thing she can’t bear it’s Valentina in pain. So despite all the confusion and opposition, she’s out of the car faster than she can think. Because right then, it’s her entire world that hangs in the balance. Immediately, she sees herself reflected in the relief in Valentina’s eyes. Before she ever gets to her, she feels her take a breath, believe in hope again, she sees some of the weight in her shoulders dissipates, and when she reaches her, it’s the heart-wrenching sound of her sob that undoes her.
Valentina runs into her, collides with all she is into her body; as if she is attempting to eradicate, by force if necessary, any space that’s between them. She throws her arms around Juliana grabbing at her clothes holding on to dear life. Her head finds its place in the crook of Juliana’s neck. Juliana holds on to Val with the same desperation but with slower movements. Everything feels so slow. She can’t feel anything except Val who is crying into her “Mi amor, mi amor… you’re safe… mi amor…” over and over. It’s the only thing Juliana hears.
Because if there’s one thing Juliana knows is that she loves Valentina. It is the one thing that she has always known. Even with all the surrounding insanity, it is the one thing she has never doubted or forsaken. She loves Valentina.
Except they love each other so differently. Valentina is loud in her love, she’s like a hurricane that isn’t afraid of anything. She throws herself at life and hopes that something will catch her in return. Valentina is the one that kisses her first, that reaches out to touch her, she’s the one who undresses her first, she’s the one who wants to talk about their relationship first. It’s always Valentina.
Whereas Juliana is quiet. Not in her heart. Her heart screams and breathes love loudly. But she lets Valentina set the pace. She follows her, she assesses and responds. Did she want to kiss Valentina a hundred times before the pool? Did she want to talk to her every night until she fell asleep? Does she never want to leave Mexico City and stay where Val is? A hundred time yes. But she doesn’t say it. Not to Val, not even to herself.
She’s afraid that if she says anything, the universe will hear her wishes of happiness and take them away from her. It’s not that she doesn’t believe in happiness. She does; more than anything. But it’s hard to believe that happiness is something she’s allowed to have when her life seems to prove otherwise. She’s always losing the things and the people she loves. People leave, or they disappoint her, or they hurt her. So she figures if she doesn’t love too loudly maybe no one will notice and she’ll be able to keep it.
But Val is still professing her love against her hot skin and all she hears is “mi amor, mi amor” and she feels the love she tried so hard to quiet, push through into every corner of her body. Her love for Valentina fills her soul and she wonders how she will ever think of anything else but this girl. She’s drowning in the intensity of her feelings, but she hopes she never comes up for air.
There’s still so much to figure out: Lupe, Eva, Sergio, the kidnappings, the souls' transmigrations but she doesn’t care anymore. She’s tired of fighting the inevitable. Maybe she should be more like Valentina and throw herself into the void hoping someone will catch her.
“Val, don’t let me go.” She whispers words that echo the ones she spoke not too long ago in the Carvajals’ pool.
Valentina pulls away from her and looks at her with a look that mirrors the love she feels. Juliana thinks of the galaxies in Valentina’s eyes and doesn’t try to find her way out of them.
“Never again.” She answers without hesitation.
When they kiss, it feels like breathing and she knows she’s home.