Always Been You (Vic Fuentes) ✔️

CHAPTER 7

no I have not forgotten about this book even though I've started a new one. this one is still my favorite haha. I'm not even sorry.

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After we were done with having our tasty Mexican dinner, Vic almost immediately went to pay the bill. I wanted to protest, but he just wouldn't let me. He said he 'owed me at least that much and more' whatever that meant.

"I absolutely love the bread they serve here. They don't do that in most places anymore. What's it called again? Um- your mom would often make it too," I rambled thoughtfully as we walked down the street.

"Pan dulce," Vic then told me, a thick accent rolling off his tongue, which he normally didn't even have. A warm smile took over his face as he looked at me.

"Yeah, that!" I remembered. "I always adored your mom's cooking,"

"No one cooks like mama," Vic murmured with a chuckle. "Though your mom made killer pancakes, though."

"Oh my gosh, Mrs. Moore that smells amazing!" Vic beamed one Sunday morning as we both entered the kitchen. Vic had stayed the night to study for semester finals. Mom was so proud of how hard we had been studying, that apparently she felt like making us breakfast.

"Good morning you two..." My mom greeted us happily. "And thank you, Victor. I'm making pancakes for you guys."

"Thanks ma'am," Vic then said, being ever so polite.

My mom turned around and pointed the spatula at Vic before blindly flipping the pancake. "I told you to just call me Patty. I don't want all those formalities in my house, alright?" She said to him, smiling at the end.

Vic nodded quickly. "Alright ma'am. I mean uh- Patty."

"Good boy." Mom then praised before turning back to focus on breakfast. "Now how many do you want?"

I grinned at that. "How many do you have?" I then cheekily decided to ask.

"Yeah... mom..." I whispered softly as the memory faded out.

"Shit, Moo, I'm so sorry. I should not have brought her up," Vic was quick to say, grabbing my arm and stopping us both from walking any further. Sympathy laced his eyes, but I wasn't mad at him or anything for bringing her up. It was actually a really nice memory, one that I hadn't thought about in years.

"It's okay," I whispered, feeling a tear escape the corner of my eye anyway. Damnit.

Vic wrapped his arms around me and pulled me tight against his chest into a warm, comfy hug. And we stood there like that for a while, him simply holding me, until I started feeling water droplets on my head.

I pulled back and looked up at the sky. "You've got to be kidding me," I murmured up at the clouds lingering in the darkened sky. "But I don't have my jacket." I then whined, right before lightning struck.

Vic chuckled and held his bomber jacket opened up so I could sort of hide underneath it. "It's just a little rain, let's go,"

But a minute or so later, it really began to pour. Vic held my hand as we ran through the Chicago streets and passed through waves of all kinds of rain. Rain that flew in sideways, rain that bounced back up off the curb, little bitty stinging rain, and big old fat rain too.

And when it seemed like it just wasn't going to stop, Vic stopped somewhere and dove underneath a ledge, pulling me under it with him.

We both laughed at the state of each other, completely drowned wet in the cold December rain. There was no way my jacket could have kept me warm. And then it hit me.