therapy | hector bellerin

iv. True Colors

After an hour and a half of driving under the stars, they made it back to the familiar streets of London.

"It's the apartment building right there." Victoria says, pointing at the small four story building.

Hector pulls over in front of the building.

Victoria gets out of the car and says thanks. She begins to walk into the building but turns around midway.

"Hector, you sure you're gonna make it home okay? Do you know how to get to your house from here?" Victoria asks, her face full of concern.

Hector smiles. "Yeah, I got it. I saw the street I have to take back on the way here."

Victoria's doesn't look convinced. She bites her lip in thought before pulling out a pen from her jacket pocket. She leans into the car and grabs Hector's hand.

"Here, this is my home number. Call me when you get home, okay?" Victoria says, writing her number on the back of Hector's hand.

"You really don't have to do this. I think I can take care of myself." Hector laughs.

Victoria stares at him seriously. "I know you can but that doesn't stop me from worrying about you. Do me a favor and just call me, okay? Let me get some sleep tonight."

Hector looks at her in amazement.

"I will, Vic. I promise."

//

It had been a long time since anyone had told Hector to text them when he got home safely. Hector sighed tiredly as he parked his car in the driveway and began walking to his front door. To his surprise, the lights were on.

Hector froze. Who was in his house?

And then he remembered. He promised Isabelle he would make up for the dinner with a night in on Friday. He checked his watch.

1:46 am.

It wasn't even Friday anymore.

Hector groaned. Seriously? Isabelle the last thing he wanted to deal with right now.

Oh, fuck it. he thought. He opened the door and stepped in.

The TV was on in the living room and Hector quietly made his way down the hall, his feet echoing on the wooden floors of his home.

He held his breath as he stood outside the doorway to the living room.

Slowly, as if not to make any sudden movement, he walked into the living room.

And all hell broke loose.

//

"Where the fuck were you?!"

"Were you cheating on me?"

"This is the last fucking time you stand me up, Hector!"

Hector stood there silently and took whatever Isabelle screamed at him. She wasn't being crazy, she had every right to be angry. Hector thought of the countless times Isabelle must have waited alone at a fancy restaurant. The endless refills of water she must've had before she finally told the waiter she didn't think her date was going to show up. The amount of times Hector lazily apologized and was taken back.

And then Hector thought of Victoria. The sincerity in her green eyes when she asked if he knew how to get home. He glanced at the back of his hand at her number scrawled in blue pen.

Victoria was everything someone deserved.

She was funny, lovely, ambitious, but most of all, she cares. She feels things. She always showed her true colors.