Paula Rouco didn’t want to ask, nor did she need to; they weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend now.
Except that when Severo Laris handed her the shirt, he had his shirt sleeves rolled up and Paula Rouco saw the inside of his left arm, that telltale Paula tattoo, and tried to ignore it, hard.
That tattoo, it was like flipping a switch and pricking her heart.
She sat on the bed wrapped in her blanket, dropping her long eyelashes and asking reluctantly, “Why don’t you wash the tattoo, we’re torn.”
Severo Laris lowered his eyes, looked at her, and asked rhetorically, “And you, why don’t you wash your tattoo again?”
When he undressed her, he made a point of checking that the tattoo, on the back of her shoulder, had not been washed and was still very much intact on her skin.
He bent his head and kissed.
Paula Rouco tugged at the corners of her lips and blurted out a very pale explanation, “I’m afraid of the pain.”
Washing tattoos, it hurts.
Severo Laris’ eyebrows, haloed by a faint smile, reached up and rubbed her little head, saying, “I promised someone that, even if I broke up with her, I wouldn’t get this tattoo erased, and you know, lawyers never tell lies. I have good professional integrity.”
Paula Rouco ducked her head and bit her lips, not really reacting visibly, but weakly replying, “You said that.”
“What did I say?”
“You told a lie. You told that person you would always be with her, and you broke your word.”
The lump in Severo Laris’s throat, which was slipping with difficulty, took a while before he asked in a warm voice, “Could you ask that man on my behalf if I still have a chance to make up for that transgression?”
Paula Rouco gently shook her head, “You have no more.”
Severo Laris was not disappointed, knowing that would be the answer and that it would be even harder for him if she forgave him too easily.
He said, “Tell her from me that it’s okay, that I’m not giving up, that I can wait.”
He was least afraid of the waiting. He had survived seven years and now he could see her almost every day, so what did he have to fear.
She was content to be by his side, to let him care for her and provide for her.
With her hair falling to hide it, she secretly let a tear fall and crash onto the bedspread.
Severo Laris does not press her, out of reluctance, but merely says, “Go wash yourself.”
He left before Paula Rouco entered the bathroom with her clothes in her arms and took a hot shower.
When she came downstairs, Paula Rouco’s hair was still wet because there was no hair dryer in sight.
She was about to ask for a hair dryer when Severo Laris, who already had a dry towel in his hand, came up behind her and placed it on her head, bending down to gently wipe her hair.
He was like a puppy, clinging to her arms.
I wanted to refuse, but felt like I was wasting my time because he wouldn’t listen to me.
After drying the water stains, Severo Laris took the hair dryer and dried her.
Paula Rouco lowers her eyes and asks, “Why isn’t the hairdryer in the bathroom?”.
Severo Laris said in a low, weak voice, “Dragged by Costillas, who loves to carry things.”
“Ribs are not dogs.”
“Skinnier than a dog.” In his voice, there was a touch of hopelessness, as if it were real.
“…”
After drying his hair, Severo Laris said, “I’ve cooked porridge and soup, have a bite.”
Paula Rouco, who was really hungry and physically exhausted from the afternoon’s over-exercise, did not refuse and followed him casually to the table.
Severo Laris had prepared the porridge and soup and brought it to her with long fingers, and there were a few tasty looking dishes on the table.
The food was simple but very appetizing.
He had nothing to say and merely bent his head and ate.
Freshly washed hair combed back, worn and falling down to his ears as he bent his head to eat.
Severo Laris’ long, thin arm, crossing the table, snagged the hair that had escaped her ear, from behind, revealing a small, clean, white face.
Paula Rouco ended up unconsciously avoiding his touch, a little uncomfortably.
Severo Laris knew that her illness would make her refractory to being touched or approached by others, a matter that was far away and that had to be taken calmly and without haste.
Severo Laris stopped touching her and said, “The Universal Group you were with, gave you too many warnings, now you need a break, I have asked someone to get you out of your contract.”
Paula Rouco looked at him startled and said, “I take care of my business, why are you interfering without my consent?”.
Severo Laris didn’t flinch, but put down the china, stared at her and said, “A pianist should be stopped by nothing but playing the piano, but you waste too much time on other ads. Is that what you mean by you’ll sort it out, or are you just too lazy to sort it out, so you live off other people’s wishes?”
Paula Rouco stopped talking, not sure if she had nothing to say or was just too lazy to talk.
After a while, she finished eating, stood up and said, “This matter, consider that I owe you a favor, thank you.”
Severo Laris looked at the half bowl of Costillas’ yam soup he still had left and reached out to grab his wrist in a masterful gesture of command, “In our house we do not promote food waste, finish it.”
“…”
Paula Rouco sits back down, holding that bowl, and finishes her bowl of soup.
“Now, may I go?”
Severo Laris lets go.
Paula Rouco finished eating and ran up the stairs, ready to put her clothes back on.
And Severo Laris sat at the table, looking at the back, then at the empty bowl, and hooked his thin lips in satisfaction.
He behaved well and finished it without a drop.
Some things cannot be rushed, but can only be done slowly.
The good thing is that there is plenty of time ahead, and with her he has patience.