he knew he was hurting you, he knew this arrangement wasn’t good for you. and yet you would always turn up, showing up at his door. clothes bundled beneath a coat, head hidden by a baseball cap. you were too aware that people couldn’t find out about these clandestine meetings between you two, how the public would rip pedro apart if they found out he was convening with somebody this young. he knew you’d always take the road less travelled by, he had seen you keep your head down when you’d leave in the mornings. he hated it, but at the moment it was his only option.