Chapter Text
Having your heartbroken is awful but not being able to tell anyone anything made the pain so much worse. You were not supposed to know Nacho Varga and you were not supposed to know of the Salamanca’s nor the business going on. Simply, you were just somebody who worked at a coffee shop, just about scraping by and making ends meet and he was an important member of a cartel.
But you knew him and all about his life. After closing shop late one night, you were walking home and unfortunately happened to be noticed by a group of men, following you and calling you names, trying to get your attention. Just then Nacho happened to be driving past, and he stopped. As soon as the guys saw Nacho standing there, they scampered, apologising to him - you’d noticed they were almost scared of him? Naturally, you were spooked and you were shaking from the whole ordeal, he noticed that. His eyes were kind, and they were soft as he looked at you, noticing your stature.
He walked you home, knowing you would definitely not get in his car after that. He didn't have to but he did. You didn’t get his name, and he barely said anything apart from asking if you were okay and that was it. A few days passed and in the dead of night there was a knock against your apartment door. The knock was a pretty-beaten nacho. You cleaned him up, feeling like you owed him a little, unsure as to why he came to you but you cleaned him up, this time he spoke a bit more. From then on, he formed a routine, showing up to your apartment a few times a week in the dead of night, not beaten up or anything, you guys would talk and sit on your couch, watching tv, drinking beers. Becoming his escape from the criminal life he desperately wanted to quit.
A year and half later, here you were. Broken hearted as the night before he had come over, telling you that he can’t see you anymore and that it was so much safer for you to not know him. Of course you understood that, but you loved him. Hell, he loved you, telling you for the first and last time almost 2 weeks ago. He had cupped your face gently as you cried, your heart had sunk, your stomach in a gut-wrenching turmoil, you’d told him ‘no no please don’t’ over and over again. He’d told you he loved you, his thumbs stroking away your tears and you noticed his eyes welling up too. You’d never seen him emotional.
Almost 2 weeks had passed, you hadn’t seen him. He was doing exactly what he said but you were just in a constant state of hope. The people in your life had all noticed the decline you’d taken. The dissociative stares, eye bags and barely eating. Everything you did just hurt your heart. You couldn’t even tell anyone.
It was 9pm, closing time, and this one customer had not left yet. He’d been sat at a table with a black coffee for the past half hour. Closing alone was normal, and you waved goodbye to your other colleague, before walking over to the customer. A bit of an older guy, in his 40’s you would say, handsome too, sat at the table.
“Hey, I'm really sorry but we’re closed now so-”
“Y/n right?” He had a slight accent as he spoke, a recognisable one. Taking you off guard a bit, sure you had your name tag on but he had not looked at it once. He’s got a slightly off-putting smile on his face as he looks up at you.
“Yeah-” He directed his hand to the chair opposite him at the table, to which you cautiously sat down. You weren’t stupid, you knew a cartel member when you saw one.
He smiled at you still, leaning forward on the table, his arms on the table too, “Good. I’m Eduardo Salamanca, but you can just call me Lalo, you know Nachito, si?”
The smile you put on when talking to customers, which you had put on for him, faltered a little upon hearing Salamanca. Oh for fuck sake. This is just what you wanted to deal with when trying to close up, running on almost 2 hours of sleep. He was quick, he’d instantly caught onto your reaction.
“I mean, yeah, i-i knew him” You replied, holding your hands under the table, letting out the breath you were holding a little louder then you wanted, Lalo caught onto this, nothing slipped past him and he let out a laugh.
“No need to be so nerviosa, ma carino, hm? I just want to talk…” Resting his hands under his chin, he has a gleam in his eyes, leaning forward a little, watching at you, “I just…want to know what our Nachito has been telling you this past year, hm? Si?”
Oh god.
Looking at your hands monetarily to break the intense eye contact, you look back up at him, “he really didn't tell me any-”
“Don’t lie. You too pretty to lie” He said, “Now, c’mon you will tell me now”
So you did, explaining the absolute basics of what you knew, of what Nacho had told you - the Salamanca’s, what they did, who runs what, and how he told you that if ever a guy called Tuto somehow showed up to instantly run. To which Lalo let out a laugh and you laughed nervously in response too. Upon finishing what you told him, he paused for a minute too long.
“You’re good at keeping secrets, hm, I like that. I think, I’ll keep you, si?” he said, you look at him confused by his word choices, unsure what he meant by keeping you, “Too good for a mierda place like this”
Still completely unsure and now scared of what he meant by that, you watched him, your gaze now never leaving him as he stood up out of his chair, walking over to you. He grabbed your hand gently, and brought your knuckles to his lips, kissing it softly. He looked at you again for a few seconds too long, a smirk now at the corner of his lips, “gracias, my dear y/n, you have been very helpful, I’ll see you soon”
He gently let go of your hand, turning on his heeled boots, and walking out the door, leaving you alone to process what had just happened. You’d stay sat in the chair, hand to your mouth, almost biting on your thumb, unsure what to do. Upon hearing his car drive off, you quickly stood up, locking the cafe door. Heart pounding and breathing suddenly heavy. What did you just do?