The Musician Down the Road || Héctor Rivera X Reader ALIVE

The Holiday

By sundown, your papa had asked you twice if Héctor was your boyfriend, thrice if you had a crush, and asked him the same questions five times. He seemed almost impressed with Héctor, as if he actually wanted you two to be a couple.

You wanted the two of you to be a couple, too.

But you would never say that. So long as Imelda loved Héctor, you could never, ever tell him your feelings. He would have to be the one to tell you first.

Or, if Imelda somehow suddenly lost all of her romantic feelings towards Héctor, that could work too. It was a fantasy, though. A made up world. Héctor clearly couldn't tell how hopelessly in love with him you were, and so you'd probably never be with him, and you'd just be sad and lonely and have no kids and be remembered as the crazy cat lady at the L/N farm. You were fine with that.

You and Héctor were at the ofrenda, sitting and joking and "being teenagers", as your mama put it.

"Eyy, Y/N, what do you think your great-great-grandpa would think of me?" He asked, pointing at one if the higher-up photos on the ofrenda.

"Héctor.. He was a mariachi. He would have adored you simply for playing guitar."

He smiled at you, a perfect little grin.

"Hola, Y/N's papa! I'm Héctor, and I'm a musician!" He flung his arms out, almost hitting you in the face.

You ducked into Héctor's lap. "Héctor! Careful!"

He looked down, and his grin widened.

"Oh wow, you look amazing, señorita.." He shook his head "Ah, uh, anyhow. Introduce me to the others?"

His face was the color of a ripe cherry. Your face was taking on some red as well, but that was common. Héctor, though? Oh boy.

| HÉCTOR'S P.O.V. |

Your hair still had pieces of straw sticking out of it from up in the hayloft. You were smiling, mild sunburns and blush giving you the color of a strawberry. You were beautiful.

"Oh wow, you look amazing, señorita.." He whispered, then caught himself, mouth snapping shut. That thought wasn't supposed to be voiced, not yet. You probably didn't even like him in that way.

"Ah, uh, anyhow. Introduce me to the others?"

You'd already introduced him a couple years ago, but you had a large family, and it was nice hearing you talk about them. It was nice hearing you talk in general. It was nice to do anything with you, if he were being honest..

But he wasn't being honest. Not yet. Not to you. That would wait until later, once he was sure you felt the same, once he was sure it would be okay. Until he was sure he wouldn't be met with rejection, his mouth was zipped shut.

| YOUR P.O.V. |

You sat up, still in Héctor's lap, so that your back was pressed against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you lightly, slid a hand under your shirt and lightly squeezed your ribs before sliding his hand back down to your waist.

"You're getting thinner, señorita! Are you missing meals or something? I can feel your ribs too well!"

You shook your head, smiling "I'm not nearly as skinny as you, though, Héctor. I should be the one making you eat."

You turned over in his lap to face him. He was beet red. Héctor knew exactly what you were going to do. You slipped a hand up and poked his ribs hard, being sure to touch each one.

"See that? I can tell your ribs apart! You need foooood!" You teased as you pulled your hand back.

"I eat! I have every single one of my meals every day!"

You rolled your eyes at him and moved to rest on his chest, arms around his back, his arms slowly creeping around your waist.

"Your papa will never believe I'm not your novio if he catches us.." He whispered.

Héctor didn't seem all that upset about it.

"Papa can die thinking we're in a relationship, so long as it makes him happy."

He laughed, rubbing your back a little.

"Hey Héctor?"

"Sí?"

"Aren't we supposed to be at dinner?"

He paled. Your smile faltered. You scrambled up off his lap and ran out the room.

"Y/N! Wait!!" Héctor called, tripping after you.

"You have longer legs, catch up, burro, I want mama G/P/N's tamales before they're gone!!"

"Save some for me!"

You laughed and ran faster.

"Survival of the fittest, señor!" You called, laughing more at Héctor's groans as he ran to catch up to you.

You were the first to the table. Héctor was second. Your mama was first to ask when you two were getting married, teasing. Héctor glanced at you hopefully as she said it.

Oh, mama, if only we would get married.