UNIVERSITY: A College AU

Part 1, Ch. 8- Telenovelas

Watching him walk out of the gym, your head spins. First he shows you he can see the future. Then that little moment, and now he's walking away. You don't even know how to react to any of this, the last hour a complete roller coaster.

He opens the door, holding it for you. You see an expression of hesitation flit across his features, as if he's considering saying something, but he says nothing.

You follow behind his step, carefully weaving between the old basketballs and equipment. His rat keychain jingles on his bag. It's beady eyes stare at you, and you stare back. You want to ask what he was thinking, but instead a twinge of regret settles in your gut as you think back to the feeling of his hair brushing against your forehead, the closeness... And the way your heart is still doing backflips in your chest. He's so frustrating.

You stop and shake your head as if to literally shake the thoughts out. He must have just not thought about what he was doing and panicked. That's it. Maybe he remembered something. You look up to see Bruno giving you a look that can only be one of confusion.

"What was that?"

You can only shrug. He shrugs back, dismissing it. He turns around and keeps walking.. You find yourself relieved that he can't hear thoughts as you touch your face where his hand had been. Your face is burning.

"I started to make some chicken and rice earlier," he says out of nowhere. Your stomach gurgles. "I heard that. Would you like some?" You nod, and he seems glad.

The walk back to his place was short, and nippy. You're grateful as the wind cools your face off, taking the blush with it. You eyes burn and your lids feel heavy from the crying earlier. No matter. You'll just eat and head out again, you think, climbing up the stairs behind him. Some rats skitter out of his chair as you enter into the room.

Bruno heads straight to the little kitchenette to a pot.
"Make yourself comfortable, y/n. The remote for the TV is... somewhere. Probably on top of the TV" He's not looking at you, already focused on straining whatever's in the pot. It smells like chicken broth. You look around, taking a seat in one of the chairs. You didn't see this one before. He must have picked it up somewhere. You grab the remote up from the floor and turn the small TV on.

It turns to a spanish soap opera station. A little grin tugs at the corner of your mouth as you watch the cheesy TV. The subtitles are a little slow, but enough for you to understand that there's some sort of forbidden romance happening.

"Ah!" Bruno crashes out from the kitchen, grabbing the remote and flicking it to a random news channel. "Spoilers." He pauses and gently hands the remote back, not looking at you sheepishly. He walks back, still not looking at you. You begin to wonder if he's avoiding it on purpose. You watch him throw some onions and peppers into a pan, the oil popping.

From the angle you are sitting, he's facing sideways towards the stove. Similar to the library, you can tell how intently he is looking in the other direction. Clearly, he's avoiding looking at you for a reason. Is it because of the tv? Did you upset him? He puts some garlic into the pan, and uses the excuse to reposition himself so his back was facing you. Definitely on purpose. You watch his back as he cooks, the smell wafting over to you. For a theatre kid, he's not very good at masking his own emotions.

"I don't like spoilers," he mumbles, barely audible. He laughs nervously. "I like my telenovelas..." He turns slightly, making eye contact before looking back at the pan. "I know they're cheesy and whatnot. I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize." Your gaze flicks back to the TV and you watch as an ad for flea medication plays, with a black lab puppy running in slow motion. You think his... telenovelas... are kinda cute, but swallow the urge to say it down. "Nothing wrong with that." His shoulders relax and he turns to grab some more stuff. Your attention goes back to the TV.

About 20 minutes later, Bruno stands in front of you, holding out a steaming bowl of chicken and rice. You take it, the smell making your mouth water. You politely take a small spoonful and put it into your mouth as he flops into the other chair. It's delicious. You take another bite. Normally, peppers make your stomach churn, but the way he cooked them makes them actually taste good. You see him watching you, looking proud.

"My mom used to make that for me. Is it ok?"

Still chewing, you can only give him a thumbs up. He grins and looks away again, looking happy. It's pretty cute. You turn your attention to the TV again as he switches it to another soap opera station, where the intro is playing.

"Do you mind watching with subtitles?"

"Not at all."

The episode opens in a hospital of sorts, with a woman in the bed being visited with flowers from her nephew. Bruno chuckles as the episode goes on, explaining the characters to you excitedly to fill you in on the gaps and the language barrier. You finish the rice, curling up on the chair. The couple on screen share a long kiss, and Bruno goes quiet. Your eyes grow heavy as you watch.

An ad break starts, and you rub your eyes. The episode isn't even half over. It would be rude to leave now, wouldn't it? Bruno seemed to be happy watching the show with you.

"Is that chair ok? I found it in the storage the other day, thought it was a good addition," he grins, but he's still watching the TV. "Figured I'd need somewhere for company to sit." He looks over, but doesn't make eye contact. You nod sleepily. You'll just have to make it through the last half of the episode. Then you'll go. You hear a shuffling.

He hands you a thin checkered blanket, leaning over from his chair.  "It's not much, but its something," he smiles. You take it, and wrap yourself up as the ad break ends.

Warm and cozy, you find yourself fighting sleep. You'll just close your eyes for a bit. The ad break at the end will wake you up for sure.

You make sure Bruno isn't looking, and position yourself to hide your face. Your eyes close and you feel yourself drift to sleep to the sound of laughter on the TV.