Dawn { a javier peña fanfiction }

Chapter Three - Blue Jeans

"Whether you fail or fly,
well, shit, at least you tried.
But when you walked out that door,
a piece of me died."

______________________________

Summer 1988

It was blisteringly hot outside, basically inhumane, surely the hottest day of the year. The little thermometer bolted to the beam on the porch said it was 110... and that was in the shade.

Javier had plugged a fan in, angling it to face the couch, but the fan and the shoddy AC unit still weren't enough to combat the heat radiating in from the large window at the front of the room.

Mia moved the little bag of ice that was mostly melted to her forehead. "Aren't you gonna miss this?" She asked, smirking as she turned her head so she could see Javier from her placement, hogging most of the couch.

"Miss what? The horrific weather or your feet constantly digging into my thigh?"

She dug her toes further into the meat of his leg from where they were positioned, pressed up against him, propping her legs up to bend at the knee, her upper body lying flat against the couch, long hair cascading off the edge.

He let out a low grunt, reaching out to wrap his hand around the delicate structure of her ankle.

"Both." She grinned.

He shook his head, "I'm sure some of the places I'll end up in Colombia will be nearly as hot as this, as far as your feet go, I can't say I'll be too devastated."

She frowned at him, using the foot that wasn't being held captive by his large hand to lightly kick his knee.

"Niñata." He grunted, but the corner of his lips flickered up and hinted at a smile as he uttered the insult.

It was quiet for a minute besides the buzzing of the fan, and the thousand thoughts spiraling through her mind.

"You're really not gonna miss it here at all?" She finally asked, her voice barely audible over the drone of the fan.

His eyes fell over to her, eyebrows crumpling together at her inquiry. He let out a slow breath before he started speaking. "I mean, I can't say I'll miss Larga Vista all that much, no. I'll miss you, though, and Chucho, that angry lady at the gas station who always chucks the cigarette packs I buy at my head."

Mia rolled her eyes, turning her head to face the blank television rather than him.

"Hey." He said, a bit softer as he reached out to rattle her knee, "What's going on? Talk to me."

She huffed, pressing her hands into the sofa to push herself onto her butt, tucking her legs underneath her as she moved to face him. "You're going to leave here and forget all about us."

He exhaled sharply, warm eyes flickering over her face. Sometimes when he looked at her it seemed like there was a war waging away in his brain. She would do anything to get a glimpse inside that pretty head of his, just once.

"I could never forget about you, kid." He said softly, heart pounding in his head as he took in the delicate features of her face— light gray eyes, little sloped nose, plush, pink lips.

"I hate when you call me that." She muttered, narrowing her eyes at him. "I'm not a kid."

He knew that. He only called her that as some kind of gross reminder to himself that she was still far too young for him.