She went into her room and bolted the door. As she made her way to her bed, she was already collapsing. Her eyes and nose quickly moistened. She hardly could see anything because of the tears in her eyes. She took off her flip-flops and lay down on the bed, in a fetal position. For her, everything was still very recent and it continued to hurt like the first day.

"Has Juan dumped you?" She heard suddenly, and for a second, she could feel her heart stop because of the fright.

"Fuck!" She said annoyed, with a hand on her chest. She grabbed the pillow and threw it at him furiously. He didn't even have to move to avoid it, she didn't even get close to him, she didn't have good aim and on this particular occasion she didn't have much strength to throw anything. "Please leave me alone, I don't feel like it, not now "she said crying.

"Tell me who did that to you" he ordered.

She rubbed her eyes with her fingers and looked up slightly to where the voice was coming from, her closet. There he was, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, staring at her, very serious.

How long had he been there? She didn't even know. Maybe it had even been there before she entered the room, but that didn't matter.

"Tell me the name and address" he said again. She was surprised by such protective behavior on his part, he had never shown it before, and she always doubted that he cared about anyone other than him.

"You can't kill what's already dead" she answered as she gathered herself, sitting on the edge of the bed. She wiped her nose, cheeks, and eyes with her T-shirt.

He relaxed his arms, shoving them into his pants pockets, and staring at a fixed point on the ground. He was already tying nails: Someone had died, recently or long ago. Then he looked up, hearing and seeing out of the corner of his eye how the young woman got up from the bed and walked towards him. The first thing that crossed her mind was to suppose that she had changed her mind and wanted to fuck him to forget everything that made her sad, starting with a kiss and then ending the two of them fucking on the bed, so he separated his back from the wall, as preparation.

But he didn't receive a kiss, a rough kiss - he received the last thing he expected to receive: a hug.

She hugged him desperately, resting her head on one side on his flat chest. In that state, she didn't care about the consequences of her actions. He had already seen her crying inconsolably like a baby on her bed, she couldn't show herself more vulnerable. She didn't care how he reacted, but she wanted a hug, especially his. Ironic, because every day, from the first second to the last, she told herself in her mind that it made no sense to feel such beautiful feelings for a man as horrible as he was, but she was stupid, she couldn't avoid.

He, on the other hand, was in shock. He was barely breathing, but his heart was racing, and she could easily feel it. He had probably never been so shocked in his entire life. A hug. It's been a long time since someone hugged him, maybe decades. He didn't even remember when was the last time. He was looking at a fixed point in front of him, not knowing what to think, not knowing what to do, not knowing what to say, not knowing how to act. He didn't know anything. His facial expression was priceless. He looked down slightly and looked at her. It seemed that she didn't care if he returned the hug or not, but somehow, she felt comfortable hugging him.

Slowly, and very doubtfully, he leaned down and moved his arms and hands, enveloping her. The heartbroken crying returned and he hugged her even tighter. She, at that moment, on the, cried with joy because at last she was hugging him, and he hugged her. She felt very happy.

"Let's go to bed" he said meanwhile he hugged her. She quickly broke away from him, taking a few steps back, near the door.

"I told you that right now I don't wa-"

"I didn't mean that. I don't always think about it. And I would never hurt you" he said, trying to defend himself, ...feeling hurt to see how she looked at him?

"Ha! Yeah, sure" she said angrily.

"Well, though whatever you want, girl" he said annoyed, turning around, intending to get into the closet and leave. For once that he was kind...

"No!" She said, taking a step forward. "Okay"

"Are you clear?" He said annoyed turning around. He went to bed and lay on his side, resting his head on his right arm, waiting for her to do the same. And she did, a little puzzled. They were inches away.

He looked down at her collarbone. She noticed it and covered her cleavage a little. "I wasn't looking at your boobs!" He said when he saw her reaction. "I was looking at the necklace"

"Do you want it back?" she asked sadly. It remembers her to him and wanted to wear it, always.

"No. It just amazes me that you actually wear it..."

He raised his arm a little, hesitant to hug her, as if he didn't know how to hug her, as if he had never initiated a hug ...Wait, had he ever had the initiative to hug someone? He didn't remember, so probably not.

"How is it possible that you don't hesitate to do all the things you do to me everytime you fuck me but you hesitate to hug me?" She asked.

"If you go that way I will get up and go" he said annoyed. She laughed lightly and broke the short distance between the two of them, curling up and burying her face into his neck with a slight beard. He was shocked again.

"No, please" she whispered against his neck, very sweetly. Now she was barely crying. He, at last, felt the courage to wrap his arm around her, and lightly caressing her back with his thumb, while his heart was racing again, without knowing why.

Not knowing what else to say or do, he began to scan the room. It was the first time he had stopped to look at it. Anyway, the other times he was there, it was always night, he couldn't see much even if he wanted to. Now it was dusk and the orange sunlight was pouring in through the window. He saw a sewing machine and lots of fabrics of all kinds everywhere. He supposed that she was a seamstress or something like that.

"Today it has been 3 months since my mother died, I no longer have any living family" she reported suddenly. He didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything. "Isabela convinced me to live here for a while, until I felt better, less alone" Now everything made more sense. He knew her as "________, Isabela's friend who suddenly moved into the house" and that's it. He didn't even know her last names, her age, her tastes, her job... "Nothing stops me in this town anymore."

"Don't go" he said quickly, with a touch of sadness and despair at the idea of not having her near him. He hugged her tighter. Fuck, he hated how vulnerable he felt right now.

"To be honest, the idea of leaving and seeing the world tempts me... But at the same time it makes me afraid and lazy, apart from the fact that here I already have a house and my mother's business to inherit, so..."

They separated and spent a while staring at each other, analyzing each other without saying anything, as it got dark, with a thousand thoughts in their heads.

"I'm glad you aren't crying anymore," he dared to say suddenly, "you look very ugly when you do" he said in a lackluster attempt to cheer her up somehow. He immediately realized the mistake, when he saw the expression of indignation and anger of the young woman.

"Look at you in the mirror before you speak, have you seen the dark circles you are wearing?" She turned, turning her back to him, but he hugged her from behind and pulled her closer to him.

"Sorry," he said, laughing slightly, resting his forehead on the back of her neck, "I've always been bad at helping."

"I see it" she replied. They both felt in a very comfortable position, so they stayed there for a while, like that, without saying anything. "You know that one day, sooner or later, I will return to my house, right?" She said sadly as she turned the necklace around, as if it were a lock of her hair.

"I don't want to talk about it, I don't want to think about it" he said, hugging her even tighter.

"I can't abuse your family's hospitality for long"

"Do it!" He said furiously. "They're all assholes"

"They aren't..." she said in defense of them, but without much desire to continue the discussion.

"They aren't with those who don't carry their blood"

"Bruno," she turned, returning to be in front of him, staring at his brilliants green eyes, "you're acting very weird today..." she said, changing the conversation to a more important topic in her opinion, "weirder than normal."

"Yeah, I know..."

"I don't understand your behavior, especially with me. I- I thought that... that you didn't care about anyone but yourself..."

"So did I" he said, annoyed with himself.

"But you are here right now, with me..."

"Seeing you crying like that have reminded me of myself, when I was your age and I felt alone and broken because of my mother"

"Bruno, what do you feel about me?" She asked, confused and desperate.

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "I guess... One way or another, I like you"

"Sure, you wouldn't be fucking nonstop with a person you hate, would you?" She said, bringing her hand to her face and massaging it.

That day was being too much for her, in many ways. She turned slightly, rolling onto her back, staring at the ceiling. Neither of them knew what to do or say, so they stayed as they were for a long time.

The hours passed quickly and he thought it was time to leave her room, so he got out of bed, but she gathered herself and took him by the hand.

"Don't go" she said, a little embarrassed. "You can sleep here with me. Every night.
Sleeping in a hammock is very uncomfortable, and your sheets aren't very clean..." she said whispering the last two sentences, and trying to use them as an excuse to stay and sleep with her.

"Yeah. Sounds good. Thanks" he said, going to pick up the pillow from the floor, the one she had thrown at her at the beginning of everything. She got out of bed and parted the covers, while he set the pillow in place.

They got into bed and ended up sleeping hugging each other. Without a doubt, that was the best night of their lives, and they didn't even have sex - they didn't wanted to, they didn't needed it.

The next morning, she woke up alone. She'd swear it would all have been a dream if it weren't for the fact that by the time she woke up, the bed was still warm from his body heat, and the pillow was all sunk, showing that two heads had rested on it. What she wasn't so sure if it was a dream or not was slowly waking up thanks to a gently kiss and a caress on her right cheek.

author's note:

If you like my content and want to support me more my k0fi is https://ko-fi.com/pieckburton

Here is a draw of some scenes

Hope y'all enjoyed this little story! If you want more of Bruno, please read my other stories. I have another two-shots and a one-shot of him, AND a Bruno x Reader x Óscar fanfic.