CHAPTER SONG - I Found, Amber Run
Lina
"Come on, love. I promised to show you how to play pool, and my room." he winked, standing to his full height and towering over me. I didn't mind it, not at all in fact. I liked that he was much taller then me, and always felt like a shield I can dodge behind if I needed it.
I pushed off the couch, my feet hitting the ground with exactment bubbling in my tummy. "You did! You did." I nodded, grinning so hard that it almost hurt.
He laughed, pulling the door of the back patio open. "I absolutely adore you." he chuckled, leading me into the house. And if I though the outside was gorgeous, it was only because I hadn't seen the inside. Everything about this place screamed money, elegance, and family. From the messy living room that had pillow's scatter on the ground like someone was just hangout there, to the blanket tossed on the couch.
The walls painted in a light grey that reminded me of silver sage and brightened up the interior. It made the space feel larger, opener, and homier. It coated the room in a softened vibe, and made it feel almost warm. I always imagined the shade white did that, but it seems that this shade of grey worked just as well.
Light wooden floors lit the place further, and all the furniture a shade of black. Each piece styled with a modern touch and made the place all the more beautiful. Tall ceiling across the whole house, and window's that seemed to never end as they climbed up the walls into the ceilings.
Past the living room and into the hallways, I could see the clear-cut black and white kitchen that screamed for attention, with all its marble counters, and glass chandeliers. I could only imagine how big and splendid the whole space would be, and I almost wanted to ask to see it. But my attention was caught by all the painting covering the hall that we walked by, all sorts of animals and painted in a black and white style.
I tugged at Mateo's arm. "I can't believe you live here." I exclaimed for the hundred time as we walked past a little nook hidden in the hallway. A built in bookcase sat in the wall, and a window seat occupied the corner with a fuzzy blanket covering it.
Mateo laughed, glancing at me. "Don't ever lose all your excitement, love. I like seeing you that way, makes me feel excited for you."
I blushed, doing my best not to burn up in front of him but basically failing as he poked my check and laughed. "Those checks, they turn into little strawberries. Makes me want to take a bite."
I swatted his hand. "You can't." I told him, my attention being stolen by the dinning room as we walked past it. Behind the double door's that were wide open, sat a long Scandinavian style table, made of I would bet solid wood. Attached to it were long benches that reached to each side, and could fit a full family in there, plus some.
I didn't catch more, sadly, because we continued to walk. But something tells me I could walk through this house a million more time, and I would still be impressed and in awe every single time.
Mateo leaned down. "Yes, I can. Think you can stop me?"
I titled my head up at him. "I could try."
He grinned. "Your effort's will be appreciated, but ineffective either way. I always get what I want, you know this. I wanted you, didn't I? And guess what."
I rolled my eyes, not bothering to answer his ridicules question. He wanted me, he got me. That's the answer, and that's the proof that if Mateo set out for something, nothing could stop him. Honestly though, I'll be the first to admit that he had me the second he saw me. It wouldn't have token to much of his effort, I'm a sucker like that. I don't know what kind of black magic he sprinkled on me, but I was a goner the second he smiled at me.
Turning the corner, he tugged at my ponytail that swung back and forth. "Come on, answer the question, I want to hear you say it." he teased.
"Why? To feed your ego?"
He grinned harder. "Of course not. My ego needs no feeding, it's as big as it can get. I just want too prove that I'm right."
I huffed at him. "Fine, you got me."
A satisfied expression settled onto his face as he pushed at the heavy metal door that clearly led into the garage. "You remember that, love. Always."
I almost wanted to say, how could I ever forget? The man has all but invaded all my five senses. He has put himself so deep into my heart that even if you were to tear my heart out, and rip it open, you couldn't get him out. Not because his not there, but because his everywhere. My whole heart, it's filled of him.
He flicked the light's on, and the garage came into view. A few things stood out right away, but mainly it was the big coca cola painting that stretched across on of the walls. Bright, bold, and creative. I pointed to it. "Who painted that? Or did that come with the house?"
He glanced towards the painting, leading us down the stairs into the garage. "Ash and Aster, took them months to finish it." he answered.
I examined it for a second longer, taking in all the little thing's they hid in the painting with different shades of red. Cherries, motorbikes, strawberries, autumn leaves, racecars, and even little chili peppers. It was a painting inside a painting and the more you looked, the more you found.
Around the garage, Mateo gathered all the things we needed and set the balls up in a rack. Which I knew to be the triangle shaped organizer that kept the balls lined together. Yes, I researched pool. I knew the basics, and some rules. I know about the table, the balls, and even the chalk and what it's for. I wasn't going to come into this clueless, no way José-ah.
I took another second to look around in the meantime, noting the punching bag that hung behind the grand pool table. And let me just say that it has definitely seen better days. On the other walls hung some bikes, and scooters were plugged in by them, charging I would assume. A comfy looking black couch sat in one corner, stretched into an L shape, and at the end of it stood a mini fridge. A few workout machines were scattered around the place too.
I paused on Mateo behind the table. "You spend a lot of time in here?" I asked.
"We all do. It's our own place in a way."
I nodded, imagining that. Everything about this place told me that people were always using it. The place felt homie in its own way, and like it had an open invitation to be hung out in. It's exactly what I wished for growing up. To hangout with your siblings, to have a place we all can be with each other, and have a bond. I didn't get that, but it made me happy that he does.
He straight at the table, grabbing my attention and holding the stick out that I knew was called a Cues. "Ready to learn?" he asked, waving the stick.
I nodded ecstatically and walked over him, well shamelessly checking him out. Because how could you not? The man was ripped and called to look upon. From the way his arms were thick and formed, to the way his chest lifted in that black shirt and made you want to run your fingers across it.
I grabbed the stick from him, my finger's brushing his and wrapped my fist around the stick, feeling the wood, and how it felt so smooth. "Okay." I said, tossing the stick into my other hand. "I know you're supposed to line it up with the white ball, and try to make one of those balls into the hole to determine if your stripes or solids, correct?" I asked, pausing to look up at him.
He grinned, trying not to laugh at my explanation but I could see the lightness in his eyes. I pointed the stick at him, poking his chest with it. "Don't laugh at me."
Mateo brought his hands up in a surrounding matter. "No laughing, swear. But you actually research pool, and I didn't even know that something like that could make me this hard."
My gaze dropped, like I had seconds before death to capture the last view of earth. And you can guess were I looked too. And yes, he was hard. Bulging against his pants and making my leg's feel weak all a sudden and achy everywhere else. "Shouldn't this be PG-13?" I crooked, eyes glued where they shouldn't be.
He stepped forward. "Is that a rule you read somewhere?"
I tore my gaze away from his hardened area and forced myself to look up at him despite how much everything in me ached and throbbed in ways I wanted to crumble for. I was struck with the heated filled look in his eyes, the browns sparking fires that seemed endless right now. It only made my leg's wobble, and I even had to reach out to set a hand onto the table to not lose my footing.
He watched the movement, with a look of hardened, and painful agony. "Don't do that." he said, that agony hitting the strokes of his voice.
"Do what?" I managed to whisper.
He swallowed thickly. "Don't look at me like that, like you can't think about anything but me inside you. Like you can't stand because everything hurts because I'm not fucking you. Don't do that, because I'm not the type of man to stop myself from giving you just that. And I'll do it mercilessly, here, right now. So, stop, unless you want me to put you on that very table, and take your last few breaths."
I nodded, pressing my lips together and squeezing my eyes shut to give myself a moment. I heard him groan. "That, amor, is not helping."
I sucked in a breath, not knowing what else to do. I was breathy and filled with needs that seemed to burn right through me, in painful ways I wanted to stop. How do you force a craving so deep inside you to stop, when you can't even think straight. It's like all these emotions, senses, and thoughts were melting into one. Into a need that took everything not to fulfill.
My eyes snapped open when I felt his callused thumb trail down the side of my face, and create a path of redness with it. I knew this, because I felt how badly my checks were burning up right now. And I stared up at him, as his other hand snuck around my waist, pulling me towards him. I felt his thick cock press into my core. And it hurt more. So much more that I winced from it.
I sucked in a sharp breath to calm down. "I'm good, we are good, and we are going to play pool."
"At least one of us is confident in that." he answered, roughly.
I sighed, determined to get past this need. I can't fall for it every time it comes because if that was the case, we would never leave a bed. And I mean never. "We are playing." I stated, "And I am determined to beat you."
His lips titled up. "I didn't know you had a competitive side to you."
I felt his thumb brush my side, and a spark of energy zipped thought me like a laser. Instantly, I pushed away from him, needed a few inches between us because other wise he would be right, and I would be on that table, begging for him.
Mateo narrowed his gaze in questioning, but I shook my head. "Control yourself." I pointed towards him, but I was a hypocrite because I wasn't any better. "And no, I'm not competitive."
His arm's dropped to his sides and gaze filled with lightness. "Lies." he said, giving me a wink that went straight to places it shouldn't. Lord? You hear me? I know at this point we chat on a daily basis but hear me out. I just need a little bit of control here, a tiny bit to face this godly creature you have set on destroying me with. Otherwise, I'm so screwed.
I took a light breath. "I'm not." I explained, but maybe that is a lie. I did want to win, but not to beat him but to feel like a worthy opponent. I liked to research and learn everything I can so that I'm never left unknowing. So I'm never left. Pathetically, I use research in a way to help me feel like I'm worthy of someone to stay. As if the more information I know, the less chance there is for me to be left blindsided.
He stepped up to the table, leaning his hip onto his. "Here's your chance to show me how much of a quick study you are."
I narrowed my gaze at him, still feeling so hot that I felt like tearing my clothing off and yet that might be all he wanted by the look of amusement, and desire in his clouded gaze. Still, I was determined to show him that I can play too, play with him. So, I rounded the corner, and leaned over the table with the stick between my hand. It felt foreign in my grip, and I wasn't even sure if I was holding it correctly but I pretend to know what I was doing and lined up the shot.
He didn't move from his spot, just watched me but I felt the intensity of his stare on every single skin cell I had. I felt how sharp, and smooth it was at the same time, and how weakened it made me.
I pulled the stick backward and pushed it forward to hit the white ball. I straightened sharply and eyed each ball as they rolled around the table, hitting walls and clinking against each other. Finally, after I started doubting I was going to get a shot, and totally thought I flanked that, a single ball rolled into the left pocket. It dropped with heaviness, and I squealed at it with excitement.
I spun around to face Mateo. "I got one!"
He watched me, smirking, "That's my girl, I had no doubt you wouldn't get one."
I blushed profoundly at him, not caring even a little because I hit my very first pocket. I might look like a rotten tomato, but I was a rotten tomato with solid color's as my side, and my very first shot done. Now, I was going to get the rest, and maybe, just maybe win.
I watched him line up his own shot, eyeing the ball with concentration. And now hear me out, I am no cheater. I win fair and square, because I believe in rules and teamwork but something in me just wanted to win so bad. And when he looked at the table with so much confidence, I knew there was no way I would win without cheating.
I'm not proud of this, I promise, but I gripped the stick in my hand, and just when he pulled his own back and swung it, I poked him. Right in the side, not hard, but enough for him to be caught off guard, and mess up his swing.
My gaze widened in shock, at myself mostly because what's gotten into me? I just cheated. The girl who walked in a straight line, and finished fairly, just cheated.
"So we are playing dirty then?"
I shook my head, wildly. "No, no we aren't."
He squared his shoulder, straightening up. "Then what exactly was that little move you just did?" he asked.
I looked crazily between the stick, and him as if that would give me some answers. Like the stick would start talking and take all the credit for what I just did. It didn't. Sadly. And Mateo grinned at me with a little bit of pride hitting in his gaze. "I have no idea." I winced, still completely in shock to my actions, "I'm sorry." I whispered.
He laughed. "Oh no, you don't get to take that back. You want to play dirty, and then I'll play dirtier."
I shivered, cooling and heating at his words at the same time. I have no idea what dirtier meant, but something tells me it's wilder than I could handle, and I just stepped right into his games. No rules, no clues, no research, no game plan, and just one option, to wing it.
I stepped up to the table, keeping my gaze steady on him to see what he would do but he stood there, watching me completely still and just grinning like he had a plan. I almost shiver even more knowing there was a plan, but I had none. Wolf, meet clueless bunny.
After a beat, I asked, "You won't do anything?"
He shrugged, not responding to me but I knew better. Either way, I had no choose. It was my turn after all and now I needed to make a shot. Sighing, I leaned over the table and lined up my shot. But before I could take it, I felt him and my skin blazed with fire like heat when he body trapped me into the table. I felt him, pressed right into my butt, pushing me into the edge of the table till I was caged with nowhere to go. I thought that would make me panic, because I was definitely trapped. Only it didn't, quite the opposite really.
I sucked in a breath, not knowing what I'm doing and stared at the balls in front of me, but they seemed to mock me now. He leaned forward, setting both his palms on each side of the table as his hard chest brushing me back, and causing the ache inside me to push to levels that felt unbearable. I almost winced just then alone, and he paused by my ear. Warm, feathery like air from him brushing my face over, and over. It tortured me, setting my insides aflame. "I like your games, love, I do, and your confidence. But did you really think you'll win?" he whispered.
I had no games, I wanted to say but all I did was gulp when I felt one of his palms move and press into my hips, steading me from wobbling over. "Tell me, love. Is this what you wanted? For me to push you into this table and leave you with no option. No where to go, and no way to get out? Because if so, all you had to do was ask."
I swallowed so hard that it bounced in my throat. My insides hurt now, and I didn't even know that was possible but looks like I was wrong. I was barely holding the stick steady now, just trying to find the balance to not land onto this table. I was weakening by the second, and he knew because I felt him smile against my ear. "Does that make you wet? For me to take every single option from you, and tell you what to do?"
Yes. Oh dear, yes!
He went on, "To the outside world, you want everything to be controlled by you because you need everything just right, huh? But here, in your dirty little mind, you want to be controlled. You want me to do what I want, and you want me to not let you have a choice. You want to be praised, and begging for me, am I right?"
I winced, nodding weakly.
"Then take the shot. Now."
I did, loosely, and pathetically I swung the stick only for it to barely hit the ball. It was a terrible shot, the worse and the moment it was over, he was gone. Backed away, and grinning like won. I was wet, throbbing and barely standing and he knew he won.
I held onto the stick in my hand that seemed to keep me from falling over. "Your mean." I sighed, making him laugh. "You don't actually think that, otherwise you wouldn't be this turned on. Your cheeks, love, gave you away." he answered.
I was about to respond and tell him that I don't actually think that but didn't get there because from outside the garage, someone screamed his name with a wicked tone full of anger. And instantly, Mateo straightened with tension zapping into his shoulder. His gaze cut to the door as it was shoved opened and down the stairs ran a raging looking Kirsan. "What the fuck is your problem?" he yelled, gaze straight on his brother.
Kirsan halted across the pool table. His earthy cooled eyes overflowing with lividness that he held on Mateo as if he could bury him from there. With such a look, and it sure felt like he could bury someone alive looking at them like that. I felt myself shrink into the table, watching him with my own hint of worry.
I don't think I have seen Kirsan mad. Irritated, annoyed, worried, sure, but not mad. I think a part of me didn't believe he had the ability emotionally to express anger towards something. In order to do that you have to care, and Kirsan has stated on more than one occasion that he simple does not feel that emotion.
He slammed his hand into the pool table. "Why the fuck didn't you call me?" he asked, gravelly and not sounding anything like himself. The person here, he was someone completely different, someone that had the capability to express emotions, and letting those same emotion control you.
Mateo stepped away from me, eyeing his brother and rounded the corner of the table. "He didn't want me too." he responded, calmly.
It took a second to realize that Mateo knew what Kirsan was mad at. And across the table, Kirsan shook his head. "You assumed that was fine? You took him on his word?" he shouted, clenching his jaw and sharpening it into a knifelike look as he threw his finger at Mateo, "You should have called me." he demanded. Anger rumbled through him, clinging onto every tensed muscle, hanging on his shoulders, pulsing in his jaw, and catching all of his short breaths.
I finally figure out this had to do with Ash. And I almost felt bad for Kirsan, because his anger was clearly just a blanket for what's underneath it. It's the same emotion that Mateo felt. The same torture, torment, and agony he experienced when he found his brother. The anger hid all the fear, stress, and suffering they all felt for Ash.
I could only imagine how horrible it has to be for Ash to deal with this and they were so eager to help him and can't. None of them knew how, and that built a pressure in their chest until it felt like it was squeezing them to death.
I pressed myself into the pool table, giving them their space as I quietly watched them. I do feel a sadness for Ash. I couldn't understand his issues, but I had my own that felt like they numbed my brain into a painful state.
Mateo stopped by the side of the table, eyeing his furious brother. Lowly, as if he was establishing a level of sever calm and trying to ease Kirsan into it, he responded, "He was worried about your tournament. He didn't want to bother you or distract you. He was also concerned because of last night."
Kirsan rounded the table to his brother, and tugged his flannel open. "You knew I would come. I don't give a fuck if I'm take the BAR, if he called, I would have walked out for him. Mierda! His my fucken responsibility. My job is to take care of him, and you took it from me. You didn't even bother to let me know what happen. You left me blind, without information and you know better. I should have been your first call, your first. His my damn brother." he breath out, his chest collapsing in anger that seemed to tear him apart.
Mateo expression flashed with hurt before it disappeared and he nodded, standing inches from his brother who was breathing so heavily it was lifting his whole body. Softly, and reassuringly Mateo spoke, "His your brother, your right, but his not only yours to take care of. His mine. You both are. I took care of him, and I gave you a break. You both are my responsibly, and I knew what it would do to you. Take a breath, Kirsan."
Kirsan stared at his brother with dark brown eyes that waved between anger that was all-consuming and blame that he was trying to pull onto himself. He tugged at his shirt underneath his flannel, as if it was suffocating him and shook his head wildly. "I can't breathe! I can't breathe because of him. Because of you. Because of Aster. Because of everyone. I can't fucken stand this overwhelming pressure in my chest because it's killing me, Mateo. It's taking everything from me to just blink. I can't care, Mateo. I can't and I do and I'm suffering because of it. I feel like I'm...I'm. I can't do this. I'm supposed to take care of him. His my...my... I'm... you should have..." his voice broke off in the end, and his head dropped in heaviness to the ground.
Mateo put his palm onto Kirsan shoulder and squeezed it. "Kirsan, his fine, and so are you. Just take a breath, I swear you'll be okay too."
"You should have called me." Kirsan replied, in barely a whisper and it cursed the world.
Mateo took the final step forward and pulled Kirsan into a hug. And for the first time since I met Kirsan, I watched him fall apart in his brother's arm. The sight was a glass ball shattering into pieces, onto the ground, harsh and forceful. It was painful against the skin like it was meant to be because people like Kirsan don't fall apart. People like Kirsan, they don't let themselves fall apart because once they do everything else they are holding onto splinters out, tearing apart their skin, fracturing their minds, and ending in an extreme wreaking.
Kirsan was the type that was always put together, in control and on top of everything and everyone. He didn't believe in love, and emotion ruling you. He didn't understand the overwhelming feeling that normal people get in their chest when they feel deeply. Except maybe he did, and he just pretend not to feel that, didn't let anyone know he really does experience it like the rest of us. Instead, he learned what to say in every situation, and how to act like he was empty. Smarter, and wiser than us, he believed the world was something he could breeze through.
Expect right now, he looked like he could barely carry his own weight. Like the emotions were crippling him to the ground, beating him, and burying him whole. In his brother's arm's he looked so, so, human. Christ, Kirsan always seemed so inhuman. Incapable of emotion. Lack of care for anything that doesn't benefit him in some way. An enigma. A genius who understood everything and cared about nothing.
And for a while, he stood there in his brother's arms like that would save him. Maybe it could. Who knows. I don't think anyone could ever fully understand Kirsan, maybe even he can't. Whatever is going on in his mind, it's too much for any of us to handle. I think he knows that. I think that's why he doesn't share his thoughts, and opinion often. I think he think he won't be understood.
Finally, he pulled backwards and racked his shaky hand thought his wavey hair. "I think I need to talk to dad now."
Mateo kept him close. "His not home."
Kirsan nodded, taking in the information before his face twisted in discomfort that seemed to heavy his tone more. "Right. Then I'll...Uh." he blew out a breath of air, not sounding like himself still and said, "I just need dad."
Mateo glanced over his shoulder at me with so much concern in his eyes that it hurt to see. I can tell that his trying to tell me that he needs to take care of his brother and I admired that about him. The commitment, and love he had for his brothers. The strong affection he had that I knew meant he would do anything for them, I loved him for it.
He looked back to Kirsan. "I'll go call him, and tell him to get home. Till then, why don't you hangout with us, and I'll play you in a chess game."
Kirsan lifted his head, regarding his brother for a moment before his attention slid too me. "I can't." he shook his head, barely, "You busy. I don't want to intrude on your alone time." he explained, calmer, and softer than he was moment ago. And yet he still lacked the confidence he always held.
Mateo sighed. "You think I can't multitask? Give me some credit, little brother."
Kirsan took a breath, looking like he was going to argue more but then his chest collapsed and he breath out, "Yeah. Okay. I think I need that."
Mateo nodded to his brother. "That wasn't really a choose." he said, steering him to the couch, "I'll be back in a few minutes." he explained, regarding his brother for a second who didn't respond. He just dropped down on the couch and put his elbows to his knees, before dipping his head in the middle and staring into nothing.
Mateo turned to me. "I'll be right back, love." he tried to smile, but his heavy tone just showed how forced that was.
I gave him a nod, and he jogged up the stairs before disappearing and leaving us in silence. I had no idea what to say. Are you okay seemed so dull, because clearly he wasn't. Saying he will be okay, seemed foolish, because Kirsan already knew that. This was a moment of weakness, and he knew this. Pointing that sound seemed like the wrong move.
Fidgeting with the stick in my hand, I tried to give him space. He didn't try to speak, and I didn't know what to say. We stood like that, just in each other's presence. And I remember when not long ago we were in this same position, but I was on his end, and he comforted me then. Helped me though it, and I was hit with a determination to help him too.
"Can you keep a secret?" I blurred out, remembering his own words.
Slowly, he lifted his oak eyes up to me and I took that as a yes. I cleared my throat. "There's this boy..." I dwelled out, remembering that this was how he started, and the look on his face told me he remembered this too. I went with it, "And this boy, I think he saved me. I know people say that, saved me. And like what do people actually need saving from, right? Saving sounds like you in need of actual help, life threatening kind. And how can one person save you? Right? It doesn't sound right. Overused." I said, throwing his words back at him, and his lips curled up in response.
Taking that as I good sign, I kept going, "He didn't save me, even if that's how it feels. I think he set me free. Uncaged me? Unchained me? I don't know the right word, you're the genius. But I know that when I'm with him, I feel revived from a state of never-ending doom that I didn't realize I have been in." I finished, blowing out a breath of air and getting kicked in the chest a little by the confession.
Lifting my eyes up to Kirsan who watched me dully from the couch, I said, "So, there's my secret."
He regarded me for another second before dropping his arm. "Querencia." he said, spelling the word out on his knee. "A place from which one's strength is drawn, where one feels at home; the place where you are the most authentic self."
"Querencia." I repeated after him, filing the word away in my mind. I liked it.
He sighed. "I don't believe it can only be a place, I think the right person can have the same effect."
I stayed silent, gripping the stick in my hand as some sort of security. Not from him, or myself really but just the moment all together. My nirvana was Mateo, but he was also my querencia, and I'll bet his a lot more then that too.
Finally, Kirsan looked up with a look that made me wonder if his head was to heavy to hold up. He cleared his throat, "I appreciate you staying with him. He needs you too."
I bunched my brows together in confusion. "Ash? I wouldn't have left him." That would have been terribly rude. It's clear as day that Ash needs people who care about him to be around him. To support and love him even though the hard times.
"Not Ash."
The garage door swung open, and I heard his heavy steps pounding down the stairs. Chest-bored clinking in his arm as he made his way over too us. "Okay, dads on his way home. Let's play. And I'm not going to go easy just because you had a break down. I have the advantage here, so I plan to win for once." Mateo explained, keeping his tone light as he stopped beside me. For a second, he stopped and his attention bounced between his brother and I, who were still staring at each other as we came to the same undestanding.
He was talking about Mateo. Mateo needs me was what he was trying to say, and he thanked me for it.
On the couch, Kirsan gaze finally slid off me. "I'm still winning." he announced, sounding a lot like his cooled self now.
I was still trying to process the conversation while Mateo chuckled. "We'll see about that." he said and handed Kirsan the chess board to set up. He turned to look at me, frozen in thought and tipped his head at me. "You okay?"
I glanced up at him, finally clearing my mind enough to nod. "Yes, yeah." I nodded, cringing at how unbelievable that sounded but I really was fine. It's just I came to strange realization in this second. And he looked at me like he was trying to figure out the drop in my tone, except unless black magic was real and he could actually climb into my mind and hear the conversation I just had with his brother, he wouldn't figure it out.
He won't realize that Kirsan made me understand something. That everyone comes to Mateo. As if he had endless strength to hold them all and love them and keep pushing them forward. They come to him in search of everything they need, and he always without a doubt provides. Not matter how heavy or painful the burden is, he takes it. Without a single second to think about it, he glues them all back together.
He says I care to much about everything, but cares just as much if not more about his family. He might not extend that same care to the world around him, but for his family it strong enough to tear apart the universe to rescue them all.
I have seen them come to him like he was some kind of creature with enough strengths from the heavens to fix all the worlds problems. They fall apart in his arms, and he lifts them up every time. And my realization is whose arms does he fall apart in? Who holds him? How heavy is the weight that his been taking from everyone else over those years well he was busy saving them all? Who's saving him?