**I'm only going to say this once. People make different decisions when they're drunk. No, Soren has never been a violent drunk, but that doesn't mean he doesn't make shitty decisions under the influence.

So. With that warning, here's to another chapter that made me cry. 😭

And just listen to 'Dark Places' by The Gaslight Anthem. That one majorly inspired this chapter. I listen to a lot of their music when I write, but Brian Fallon is just— UGH. I wish I could write like him or be him or kiss him. ❤️

UPDATE 2/11/22: LMAOO how is this from before I wrote a whole book inspired by ^^^ THAT SONG. Dark Places may be my favorite story, hot mess it is, and I will never NOT melt when Drake Medina just says, 'Melo' like Luz is the bane of his existence (because she is). Or when he calls her 'jeva' and Luz just... lets him. 💔 BRB I'll be editing the last of DP. (I wrote it while I was inhaling a LOT OF DRUGS, but I'm sober now.) Okay? Okay.

"If I thought it would help,
I would drive this car into the sea."
— Dark Places, The Gaslight Anthem

♛♚

"YOU'RE DRUNK."

Soren didn't seem to process my comment. His gaze wandered down my face lazily, scorching every inch of exposed skin with a dazed look and a soft smile.

"And you," he slurred. "You are fucking beautiful."

The faint compliment sent me reeling back into the rain. He was trashed. "Soren, you... you—"

"I fucked up everything, Lace. I fucked up everything again." With a bitter laugh, he shook his head, flinging tiny droplets of water from his curls. "I was going to bring you to the beach on your birthday. I fucked it up, so I..."

"Oh, Soren," I sighed, swaying back into the open window. My wet fingers curled around the door as I ducked closer, stealing a glance at his clean, tan knuckles. He wasn't hurt, just drunk.

I met his gaze apologetically, ready to ease him out of the car, but he gave me this smile.

A weak, brittle smile. One that looked like it would shatter. "I'm...I'm here to take you now, mi Reina."

"It's storming. We can't go to the beach. And you..." I trailed off as I took in his disheveled clothes.

Beneath a dirty, short-sleeved mechanics shirt with a knitted name tag that branded him as José, he was wearing that midnight blue button-up I'd loved. Fuck, he was so handsome.

My heart throbbed as he fidgeted under my long stare, swiping his hands along his jeans nervously. Soren held me captive with wide eyes and the infamous weapon that he kept handing me.

Desperation.

"Please, Lacey."

Breathe.

"Soren, you're drunk." As I inched further into the car, a faint trace of smoke danced through the interior, fluttering past my lips with a bitter taste. A familiar scent. "Are you...are you high?"

Ignoring me, Soren reached across the passenger seat until his fingertips grazed my trembling bottom lip. "Fuck, Lace, eres tan bella. My fucking Queen."

It was like he hadn't even heard me. In a stronger voice, I asked, "Soren, are you listening to me?"

The question seemed to cut through the haze because he yanked his hand away as if I'd burned him, a guilty look in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I fucked up again. I just want to..."

Breathe.

"Are you high?"

"I just want to take you— take you to the beach, Lacey."

"Soren." His name left my lips like ice. "Are you high?"

His green eyes shook as he tripped over words, suddenly blubbering something incoherent. Everything wobbled with uncertainty. Closing my eyes and choking back a cry, I forced myself to stay in the light rain instead of diving into the car to embrace him.

When I opened my eyes, my knees buckled against the car door. In the fleeting darkness, his eyes were like glassy, black oceans, depthless and desperate and so fucking vast.

Gently, I murmured his name. "Soren."

"Lo siento mucho. I'm...I— Lacey, I'm sorry."

My heart sank with the truth. That was his way of telling me that he was. "Soren, you're fucking crossfaded."

The flickering dashboard lights revealed a soft blush that spread up into his cheeks. "I...maybe, I...I think so."

He didn't know?

"You drove here like this?" I choked out, examining the empty car warily. "You drove here alone?"

Sheepishly, Soren glanced away from me. "I...I don't remember driving here."

Oh. Fuck.

"You blacked out."

"I— I needed to see you," he mumbled, refusing to face me.

Tears pricked in my eyes as everything seemed to cave in on me at once. He could've hurt someone or himself. "Soren, you can't do that."

Soren didn't respond at first. He balled his hands into fists and scrubbed at his eyes, his shoulders shaking with a silent sob. As he fucking fell apart in the driver's seat, the silence descended into soft, incoherent Spanish.

Until he finally looked at me. "But I'm...I'm here to take you to the beach. You don't want to go with me anymore?"

The further I backed away from the car, the more the rain danced between us like a veil, separating us in a way I'd never felt before.

This was Soren before I knew him. This wasn't no hesitation, always anticipate another move Soren.

This was Soren. Black out Soren. Lost and confused and addicted and sad.

My heart fucking broke for him. "Of course I want to go to the beach with you, but— but not like—"

"Please, get in," he whispered, knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. "I'll take you."

"Soren, no." Loose clumps of hair fell forward into my face. Tears finally broke free. I backed away. "I'm not getting in the car with you when you're drunk. You— you shouldn't even be driving. You should come inside with m—"

"Carajo." Soren whipped his head around with the sharp hiss, rambling rapidly in Spanish. "Me iré, me voy, si eso es lo que— no quieres—"

No, no, no. He couldn't drive like this.

As soon as he reached for the gearshift, panic clamped around my heart. I yanked the door open frantically. "No! You're— you're not leaving! You can't drive like this!"

Soren didn't even look at me. "Lacey, close the door. I'm leaving."

I stood motionless on the edge of despair, in the shadow of the car door, refusing to get in, but desperately grasping for any way to keep him here. Safe.

"If you drive away from me drunk, Soren, I will never fucking forgive you. You can't p—"

Soren shifted the car into drive.

Fear gripped me. So much fucking fear that I didn't even think before I slid into the passenger seat. We jerked forward, the door slamming shut as we nearly tapped the parked car in front of us. "Soren!"

He hit the brakes and I clutched the open window. Rain filtered into the car. Soren flicked his blinker on nonchalantly. We rolled an inch.

Something fierce squeezed my heart. Hysteria.

As Soren glanced over his shoulder casually and spun the steering wheel with shaky hands, a sob wracked through me. "Soren, I don't want you getting hurt! You— you can't drive like this!"

"I made it here in one piece. I'm fine."

Another loud sob left my lips. My limbs locked up, my chest heaved, my lungs constricted, my heart hammered against my rib cage. A wave of nausea crashed over me. My throat closed up with dread.

I couldn't. I couldn't do this.

"I'm— Soren, I can't breathe."

Just barely edging away from the sidewalk, the car came to a grinding halt. Another car sped by us, a horn sliced through the rain, tires squealed.

Soren looked at me and froze. "Ay carajo, Lace."

Short, broken pants came tumbling out, but as I blinked past the stinging tears to see the worry etched into his expression, I felt my heart rate come hurtling down to meet me.

I knew it was coming before he even said it.

"¿Estás bien?"

Breathe.

Somehow, I knew it was over. All the chaos was over with that single statement.

I offered him a weak smile. "Please, don't drive. I'm in this car with you. Me. Our child. You would never risk us getting hurt."

That did it. That fucking did it.

Even in the dark, I could see his expression fall. Soren didn't care if he got hurt, but he cared about us.

Another slew of low, frantic Spanish escaped. A whirlwind seemed to capture him as he shifted the car back into park and yanked the key from the ignition. As soon as he swiveled over the console, he muttered, "Ven aquí, Lace."

His arms opened and I collapsed into his embrace with another breathless sob. Would he ever understand how much it hurt when he did things like this?

Even without people trying to kill him, I still had to worry about him doing something reckless and never coming back to me.

I clutched at his shirt like my life depended on it. "I don't want you getting hurt, Soren! You can't do this... you'll..."

Soren pressed a quivering kiss to my wet neck. "You're so fucking sweet for worrying about me, but I can't die."

I almost punched him in the face.

But as I reigned in my temper, he pulled away to regard me with something that just barely walked the line of being grouchy. A pout settled on his lips. "Lacey, why do you care if I'm alive or not? Wouldn't your life be better without me?"

There was one solid second of silence. Stunned silence.

And then I was fisting his shirt and shaking him viciously, crying or screeching. Just completely losing it.

"What the fuck?" I cried, trying to knock some fucking sense into him. "Why would you say that? Why would you think that?"

Soren winced at the volume of my scream, or maybe the piercing edge of it, but I couldn't care because as he swayed back and closed his eyes, I was already clobbering over the console onto his lap.

"You have survived so much fucking shit, Soren. You are not going to get yourself killed in a car crash!"

He closed his eyes with a dry laugh. "I can't die."

Fuck him and the fact that he thought he was invincible. All I could see was twisted metal and green eyes when I blinked.

"Fine then," I snapped harshly. "How about this? You got away with murdering half of New York. I'm not going to let you get arrested for drunk driving."

"You know," he started with resignation in his tone. "If I did, Julio would step up."

"What?"

A frown marred his expression as his lashes fluttered, revealing a dangerously dark defeat in his eyes. "Julio would step up as a father figure for our bebé."

There were no fucking words for how angry that made me. Actions always spoke louder than words.

So I punched him. Before I could stop myself, I was throwing punch after punch after weak fucking punch at his chest, wailing with all the pain that comment stirred up.

"Why would you fucking say something like that?" I sobbed and waited for him to take it back.

Punch.

"Don't fucking say that!"

Punch.

"Do you know how much it hurts to hear that?"

Punch. Punch. Punch.

"You are going to be around for this baby! You are going to raise this child with me! You are a father now!"

He didn't say anything and that only made me angrier.

Punchpunchpunchpunchpunch.

"What is wrong with you?"

"I don't know!" Soren finally cried, grabbing my wrists to stop me. "I don't know what's wrong with me, Lacey."

I sank into his chest in defeat, crumpling with sobs when he wouldn't look at me.

His gaze stayed over my head as he continued in a shaky voice, "I feel like there's something swallowing me and I can't get rid of it, Lace, and— and I'm worried that it's going to swallow you too."

Breathe.

There was something unfurling in the pit of my stomach. It was an endless somersault, flipping and twisting in dread at the thought of a future where Soren wasn't beside me with our baby.

Hot breath fanned along my forehead as Soren pried my fingers from his shirt and uncurled my clenched fists. When my palms pressed flat against his chest, he let out a whimper.

"It's...it faded," Soren murmured miserably. "It's gone."

My brows creased in confusion, but I craned my neck away to watch him.

Realization dawned as he stroked my ring finger delicately, tracing the ghost of a sharpie line. "I told you— I told you I'd keep drawing it and I wasn't here to—"

Breathe.

How could Soren think that I was worried about that?

Swallowing hard, he met my gaze with a wobbling lower lip. "I promised— I fucking promised that I'd never leave you again."

"Soren, it's okay."

"It's not," he hissed. "It's not okay for me to leave you. It will never be okay for me to fucking leave you."

My breathing hitched at the familiar grit in his voice. Brushing his curls from his forehead, I asked quietly, "Where have you been?"

Soren didn't seem to hear me. Still staring into my eyes, he tucked a wet lock of hair back behind my ear. Something about the motion brought comfort. Was it possible for one motion to feel like home?

"Morena wanted to cut my hair again," he said suddenly, shaking his head. "And I told her, 'Lacey will leave me if I cut my hair.'" A bitter laugh dripped from his lips. "And then I realized that I left you."

I blinked in confusion. "So you were with Morena f—"

"I left you alone, Lacey and I told myself that I'd never do that again." Soren scowled, averting his gaze. "If you needed space, I gave it to you. Every time you left me. But I told myself after I left you in that safe house that I would never leave my fucking partner again."

My lips met his to silence him. Soren responded with a surprised groan, his arms winding around my waist. "Fuck," he murmured into my lips. "Bésame para siempre."

That plea tugged at my heart in an impossible way. Yes, there were motions that could feel like home.

This. Besos.

Cupping his cheeks, I pulled away and met his dazed eyes. "First of all"—I poked his nose—"I won't leave you if you cut your hair. I'll cut it for you if you want."

Like fireworks had gone off, his eyes brightened against the flash of a passing headlight. Wide and unexpectedly happy, those green eyes pierced through me with a tenderness that felt raw. "You'd cut my hair?"

All that over an offer to cut his hair. With a grin, I admitted, "I might butcher it."

One side of his lips threatened to tilt up, but as his gaze wandered along my face, a million shadows passed over him. A heartbreaking hesitation claimed him.

"Soren, what are you thinking?"

"I don't know how to love you."

I reeled back, unexpectedly hurt by the statement. "What?"

"No, I...fuck," Soren cursed under his breath, backtracking nervously. "I— I don't know how to love you the way you deserve."

Breathe.

In. Out.

"Lacey."

And fuck, the way he breathed my name stole everything from me. Soren had everything.

I melted into his palm as he caressed my cheek gently. "Lace, I can't give you anything more than this. These pathetic sharpie wedding rings and drunk confessions. Guns, drugs, violence. That's not what I want to give the person I love. You— you need—"

Another round of hot tears threatened to flood over me. "Soren, I know you love me."

"I was trying to get my shit together, Lacey. That's where I was. So I can give you what I always thought I'd give someone I love. All the normal things. Dates and movies, art museums, breakfast and dinner, a bed. Fuck, we don't even have a bed."

Chewing on my bottom lip, I let him simmer in the silence for a long moment. Rain continued to fall softly against the windshield, but in the dry, dark car, wrapped in his arms and looking down on him, I felt so fucking warm.

"Can I tell you a secret?" I finally asked, soft and unsure. "Right here? Right now?"

Soren nodded anxiously. "Por supuesto. Siempre."

"We love each other too much."

For a long, agonizing moment, Soren stared blankly at me. No expression, just dark, glassy eyes boring into me. And then he shook his head shortly.

Both hands moved to cup my jaw, tilting me up and up and up...until he descended down to meet me halfway, a breathy gasp filling the small space just before his lips crashed against mine.

It was always easy to succumb to Soren. It came like second nature, something completely normal and beautiful and euphoric.

Weaving my fingers through his hair, I deepened the kiss to taste the twinge of tequila on his lips, but Soren pulled away too soon. "It feels like too much because it's not just love, Lacey."

"Oh?"

"Fuck, it's everything. Devotion and concern and respect and fear."

Those words sank into me, penetrating skin and slithering into my bloodstream with the truth. Alive and wild, it seemed to light my veins with every possible emotion. It was everything. Soren made me feel everything.

"Can I tell you a secret, mi Reina?"

"You can tell me anything, mi Rey."

"You scare me," he whispered. "You scare me so much, Lace."

That blow to my chest left me breathless and fucking whimpering. I couldn't even respond.

Soren reached for me when I pulled back, his fingers grazing my cheek like I was made of glass. "You've always fucking scared me."

All that time I'd thought Soren was fearless...and he was afraid of me.

"As Raine, as Seth's wife, as la princesa perdida..." His voice shook with the faint confession. "But fuck...Lacey. Lacey fucking scares me."

My lips parted, but nothing came out.

"Lacey is my partner," Soren said tenderly. "And I want to be the best partner she'll ever have."

I shook my head to escape the haze of Soren Calloway. "Please don't be scared of me."

Soren moved quickly, like a runaway train derailing into my lips. Somewhere in the middle, we met again, clashing teeth and frantic lips. The kiss didn't shock me, but the force of it did. Drunk or not, Soren sealed besos with a promise. A threat.

I knew with one fucking motion that Soren would always be on my side. No matter what.

"You are the best partner," I reassured him as I threaded my fingers through his wet curls. "You are the best person I've ever known."

"I love you."

And somehow, through whispered murmurs of love and affection, the traffic and the night and the rain and everyone that ever dared to pick a battle with us fell away. Soren and I against all of New York City. Soren and I against the world.

That was it. That was all that mattered in that fleeting moment.

"Eres todo, mi Rey," I breathed, sinking into warm flesh and crumpled clothing and everything that he was.

It felt like everything around us swirled into a dizzying tornado of destruction, but the moments like this were what made it real.

"Todo."

Soren was suddenly twisting his fingers into my hair and pressing me harder to his chest. His lips tasted salty, but held that trace of tequila that I couldn't shake.

"Can we go inside?" I asked, pulling away from him reluctantly. "Please."

I didn't want him leaving me again. I didn't want him driving like this or feeling like this. I wanted the sweet and sober Soren, laughing and smiling and telling me stories.

"No beach tonight?"

I shook my head and spared a look at the rain falling outside. "No beach tonight."

Soren let out a wistful sigh, a single strand of longing and love left withering into the warm space. "One day, it will be right, Lace."

"We can go inside," I pleaded again. "We can go inside and just...and just talk or— or read. I just— I don't want you driving like this. If something ever happened to you..."

His chuckle was warm against my ear, but chilling in its tone. "Even a car crash couldn't keep me away from you."

"That's not romantic," I sighed into his damp skin. "That's not a romantic thing to say."

Stroking my hair soothingly, Soren snickered. "No? You don't think it's romantic that I keep beating death to be with you?"

"No."

Another raspy chuckle sent sparks down my spine as he tucked me even closer. "I think you're the best person in the world, Lacey."

My heart stopped in my chest as I fumbled, taken aback by the thick, heartfelt words.

"Everything else aside, mi enferma, mi pareja, mi Reina," Soren said, swooping down to kiss my forehead. "You are the best person in the fucking world."

"So...you'll go inside with me?" I met his gaze with a hopeful look. "I hate sleeping without you."

A crooked grin toyed at his lips. "I hate thinking of you sleeping without me."

And for another long, silent moment, as his eyes swept over me and his smile widened, all I knew was the hope that he felt. It was somewhere deep inside of Soren, always fighting to the surface and I loved him for it.

"I think you are the best person in this world," I breathed, cradling his face between my hands. "I want to be there for you when you need me, Soren."

He blinked in confusion and slurred, "I always need you."

"I won't run from you again."

"No more running," he said and the promise felt firm and solid, like it had months ago when we were running from Seth instead of each other. "Okay, let's go inside."

And in one messy jerk, he turned the car on. With one hand on my waist and the other on the steering wheel, Soren backed up an inch to meet the curb.

Without faltering, Soren pulled the key from the ignition and everything died.

Breathe.

"Lo siento, Lacey," Soren simply said, flinging his door open. I clung to his neck and snuck my bare feet around his back and he pressed a hand to the top of my head gently. "Duck. Cuidado, mi esposa."

Nuzzling into his shoulder, I let the scent of sweat and smoke calm me down. If I focused on that, the world didn't exist. Pain didn't exist. I didn't exist.

Soft and shallow, his breathing hitched when my lips skimmed along his neck. Soren shifted out of the car with me still in his arms, whispering, "Un momento."

I barely heard him.

Breathe.

In. Out.

Locking the car swiftly, Soren stumbled to the sidewalk with drunken vows still rolling off his tongue. "Te amo tanto, Lacey."

"Sé," I said, knowing that Soren loved me more than anyone ever had. "Te amo también."

His footsteps were slow and staggered, but Soren never gave up. It took him a long time to reach Julio's front door, still clutching me in his arms as rain battered the two of us.

"I'm not sure if you know this about me, but I really like holding you," he rambled off with a sheepish laugh. "I really like holding you."

I bit back a laugh at the way he said it. Like it was a secret he was too afraid to admit. "Why do you sound so embarrassed?"

"It's kind of cheesy, but I just like it when you're close to me. It makes me feel safe."

A raindrop fell from my lashes and landed on his shoulder. "I make you feel safe?"

"Sí." Soren paused at the door, fumbling slightly. My back pressed against it, cool metal bleeding through my soaked shirt. "I know that you can do anything. If you're with me, everything will be okay."

Keeping me steady, Soren slipped a hand down to fiddle with the doorknob. I tried to find my voice, but I just couldn't.

As he spared another embarrassed look at me, his lashes heavy and his cheeks streaked with rain, he gave another cute, nervous laugh. "I feel happy when you're with me. Warm and excited and happy."

"Really?" I croaked.

"I get butterflies when I'm around you. Isn't that cute?"

"That is cute."

"Don't make fun of me tomorrow for this."

"Never."

"You're my best friend." His drunken slur softened as he pushed at the door. "Mi mejor amiga."

I snickered, "Are you friend zoning me right now?"

When he laughed, my heart soared. This was what I always wanted. Happy, laughing Soren Calloway.

"Because I think we're in a little too deep for that," I quoted him with a coy grin.

Another laugh bubbled out of him, but he dipped down to catch my lips for a long, lazy kiss. The door shut behind us with an echo, and we surrendered to the silence that followed.

My back hit the next door as he pulled away breathlessly. "No friend zoning here. I'm in love with you."

"I'm in love with you," I shot back. "Tan desesperadamente enamorado de ti."

"I love it when you speak to me in Spanish, mamacita," Soren snickered.

"Sí, sí, papi," I teased. "¿Te gusta?"

Soren groaned, but led us into Julio's apartment, dripping wet and clinging to each other. As soon as he flipped the light, I unwrapped my legs from his waist. "We should probably get out of these clothes."

"You have no shoes," Soren commented with a frown. "Why aren't you wearing shoes?"

"I..."

"Lacey, you could've gotten hurt."

The irony wasn't lost on me. Scoffing, I pinned him with a hard glare. "You could've gotten hurt driving like this."

That silenced him. Soren stayed completely silent as I padded to the bathroom, following me soundlessly and simply blinking when I offered him a towel and started to peel his clothes off.

It wasn't until we were both fully dressed that he finally pressed a kiss to my forehead and sighed, "Lo siento mucho. I'm sorry I drank again. I won't— I'll try not to do it again."

His guilty tone almost made me sick. "Can you tell me why you did?"

Soren shrugged, but his jaw clenched. "It numbs things for a while. It doesn't feel as horrible."

"Is that what it is? You feel horrible?"

"I feel bad about so many things I've done."

"I know, but drinking won't solve anything."

"I know." Soren did know. He sounded resigned and melancholic, but most of all, he sounded tired. "I killed Alex."

What?

Wrenching away from him, I searched his dark, guilty gaze for the truth. "You killed Alex?"

"I did."

"Why?"

Ice fractured in his eyes as he muttered three cold words that sent a shiver down my spine.

"As an example."

**Unfortunately I've been in this particular situation with someone... several times. Don't drink and drive.

RIP ALEX. I really wanted to give him an onscreen death...*sighs* use your imagination, I guess?

This one is kind of a two-parter, but the next part should be up tomorrow! I LOVE YOU GUYS. BESOS! ❤️