#set on the first night in the basement concept. when luz sneaks down to talk to him

[crimeronan]

“Okay, so you were my guard,” Luz says.

"Yeah. Among other things."

“But I don’t, um – I don’t actually need that here. Guarding, I mean. I’m not royalty anymore. And the people here are okay, mostly, except when they suck, and then Vee goes after them anyway. I don't… I’m not sure I can…”

She trails off, less because she’s trying to formulate sentences and more because she can see Hunter’s heart shatter. Even as she does, she checks herself – what does she know about his feelings, really? His face barely crumples. He just closes his eyes for a second, and presses his mouth flat, and swallows. Then he takes a breath and faces her with the exact same calm as before.

She doesn’t know why she’s so certain that’s heartbreak. In anyone else, she’d read it as tiredness or annoyance.

“I’m coming on too strong,” he says, and his voice is just as steady as it always is, no outward signs of distress. “I'm sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Luz says, and means it. “I can tell you’ve had, just, the worst time. And I know this isn't what you hoped for. I just – I don't know what you want with the human world, besides me. Won’t you miss home?”

“You're forgetting I’m not allowed to go home either way right now,” Hunter says, “on account of the atrocities.”

Luz rolls her eyes. “Don’t be a smartass.”

His mouth twitches. He might be trying not to smile.

“I’m just saying,” she continues, “you found me. You did find me. Like you wanted to. And I’m safe here, like you want me to be. So you don't have to… I mean, you did your duty. You did what you were supposed to do. I hereby release you from any further contractual obligations. Okay?”

It’s meant as a reprieve, but Luz immediately knows that she’s chosen the wrong thing to say. Hunter isn’t quite as good at masking this new heartbreak. His fingers spasm, curling around the edge of the couch cushion, gripping like a lifeline. He lets out the kind of breath that someone might if they’d just been shot. His ears flatten, pointing toward the floor, an unconscious reflex that makes him look like a kicked puppy.

When he speaks, his voice cracks. “You don’t want me?”

Luz feels her own expression crumble. Confusion and guilt war for dominance inside her, a stitch between the ribs.

“Here,” Hunter adds, unconvincingly. “You don’t want me here?”

“I don’t want you guarding me here,” Luz says. “All of this stuff, you being so hung up on Vee and my mom… it’s freaking me out. I don't want them to get hurt.”

“I won’t hurt them,” Hunter says immediately. “I wouldn’t hurt them, not if they’re treating you well – I wouldn’t ever do anything you didn’t want me to do, Luz. I swear.”

“See, that. That's freaking me out.”

His brows draw together.

“You’re sitting here locked in a basement on my behalf,” Luz says, “because you volunteered to be locked in a basement.”

“Okay, well. In my defense. There are some very specific extenuating circumstances right now.”

She waves this aside. “You said you’ve been trying to track me down for months.”

“Of course I have. Anyone with sense would have. Belos was-"

“Yeah, I know. But my mama isn’t Belos.”

Hunter stays quiet and still for a solid minute. Luz actually counts the seconds. His only movement is to press a hand to his eyes, like he’s pushing back a headache, or maybe trying not to cry.

“I’m not trying to be mean,” Luz adds. “I promise you, I'm really, really trying not to hurt your feelings. But you get it, right? It's just… a lot to process.”

“I get it,” he says, with what might be an attempt at a smile. He folds his hands in his lap, surveying her politely and deferentially, like a corporate executive might respond to a CEO. “I'm sorry I've made things harder for you. I didn’t mean to do that.”

“I know,” she says. “It’s okay. I’m really sorry I don't remember.”

“Could be that it's for the best,” Hunter says lightly. “I won't cause your family any trouble, Luz. Promise. It’ll probably be a while until they actually believe that, but in the meantime – you don't need to come down here anymore. I won't pick a fight.”

She has a sudden, overwhelming impulse to fling herself into his arms. Just one more nonsensical reaction, extra proof that something's missing inside her.

“Do you want me to stay away?” she asks.

Once again, Hunter lapses into silence. It's hard to tell whether he’s thinking or just refusing to answer, at least until he counters, “Do you want to remember me?”

“Yes,” Luz says immediately. She doesn't even have to think about it. Without meaning to, she touches her chest, the place that aches every time she reaches out for someone who isn't there. It's been aching since way, way before Hunter stepped onto the Nocedas' porch.

“I want to know,” she explains, “why I miss you so much.”

This, finally, is what makes Hunter break. He buries his face in his hands and lets out a ragged little sob, his shoulders shaking, his breath choked.

Something in Luz wants to wrap her arms around him and snuggle up on the couch and let him cry into her neck. Something in Luz wants to curl up with him under all the blankets in the house and ask him to tell her stories. Something in Luz is suffering physical pain with every elapsed moment in which she doesn’t do that. The desire to hold him edges past want, into need. It hurts.

The rest of her is still loosely gripping a steak knife. And so afraid of sending mixed messages.

“I’ll come back tomorrow, okay?” she says, backing toward the stairs before her instincts can turn traitor. “After I’ve slept. After we’ve both slept. I want – I need you to get some rest tonight. You'll feel better once you do. Okay?”

Hunter grunts in vague acknowledgement. He doesn’t seem interested in discussing his continuing sobs, and Luz is fighting back tears herself, and she doesn't have the strength not to go to him if she cries. So she just climbs the stairs, shutting the door carefully behind her, and she flips the lock closed.