Élite | Imagines

Guzmán | Ocean Eyes

You've been paired with Guzmán for a school project, so there you were, laying on your belly in his bed, hands holding up your chin so you could read and legs gently swaying.

It was hard for you to be near him; you still had feelings for the boy but your father had been very upfront about your former relationship.

"Aren't you the son of that hijo de puta, Ventura Nunier?" That was the first thing your father said to your boyfriend on the day you took him home to meet your parents. "Get out of my house!" He raised a finger, emphasizing his anger, "And stay away from my daughter!"

Your father was know to be a grumpy man, but you never expected him to treat your boyfriend like that. He didn't like rich hypocrits, but Guzmán had nothing to do with whatever his father had done.

"And you are done with him! I don't want to see you talk with him ever again!" 

You didn't answer, still processing what was happening, and he threw a vase in your direction, swearing as he did so.

"What are you thinking about?" Guzmán interrupted, your eyes immediatly looking at his, and you just shook your head. "Do you want something to drink?"

"A glass of water would be lovely, thank you."

He left the room; you pushed your book aside, hid your face in your palms and sighed heavily. His blue eyes were all you could see and think about: the way they had pulled you in and enchanted you, the way they sparkled when he smiled, how the tears had sharpened the intensity of them, the beauty of that colour reminding you of the ocean.

"Guzmán, where are we going?" You asked the excited boy in the car.

"It's a surprise! What matters is that you have your documents with you."

A flight later you were in Mallorca, running down the beach towards the sea. The waves splashing you as you twirled around, hands in the air and looking up at the sky, letting the wind run through your hair and inhaling the salty scent. Guzmán stayed behind, looking at you and smiling to himself. You were at the beginning of your relationship, but he was already head over heels for you and he wanted to show you. You called him and he jogged towards you, then swept you off your feet and kissed you, as another wave hit you both, making you gasp then laugh.

There were very few people at that time of year and you had the beach almost to yourselves all day long. It was your first time seeing the sea, and you instantly fell in love with the blue water. And in that moment, with Guzmán holding you, you knew you were slowly falling in love with the boy with ocean eyes.

"I think you need something stronger than a simple glass of water," he handed you a glass of whiskey with two ice cubes.

"Guzmán, we're supposed to study," you retorted, but got up and took the glass from him, your fingers brushing over his.

"We are, we're just taking a break," he plopped down on the bed, checking you out, "Now, want to tell me what's wrong?"

"You need to stop it," you sipped on the whiskey and leaned on the window, looking down at your hand, feeling your skin tingle where it touched his, and then out of the window.

His hands roamed all over you, exploring, and his mouth left a trail of wet kisses from your earlobe to your chin, down to your collarbone, over your breasts and stopped just below your belly button. He gently took the hem of your panties between his teeth, pulling them down slowly. He left another trail of kisses from your left heel to your inner thigh, and repeated the action on the other leg. Then he rose and kissed you on the lips.

"Are you okay with it?" He asked, his mesmerising eyes boring into yours.

You nodded. It wasn't your first time, but haven't done it in months and weren't that experienced. But he knew exactly what to do and how to treat you.

"I can't stop the feelings I have for you," he was standing in front of you, those piercing eyes making it impossible for you to look away.

"Guzmán, por favor..." you whispered, your eyes suddenly clouded by tears.

His hands held your face, his thumbs caressing your cheeks as he talked, "Y/n, we were happy. You're one of the most amazing things that happened to me!"

At Guzmán's insistance that it was time you met his parents, you agreed to stay for dinner. At first you were very nervous, but Marina encouraged you, telling you it couldn't be worse than when she brought Pablo home. Not so much an encouragement, but you apprecieted the effort. Turns out their parents actually loved you.

"It's so great to finally meet the girl that tamed my boy," Mr. Nunier laughed.

"My husband is right. I even started to worry when his temperament calmed down, I thought he was ill. Until his sister told me there was someone special having this effect on him," added Mrs. Nunier, "I'm really glad he met you."

"Yeah, you're good for him."

You were crying, trying to push him away, but he gripped your wrists and pulled you to him.

"We can make this work, your father just needs more time. Y/n, I love you and I know that you love me too. We can do it." He held you to his chest, letting you calm down, and stroked your hair, "You just need to stop pushing me away."

You nodded, your hands holding his shirt tightly. Once you regained your composure, you looked up at him. He pushed a strand of hair behind your ear and smiled, those ocean eye glittering with hope. You smiled back, stood on your tip toes and closed the gap between you, savouring the taste of whiskey on his lips.