"Ah, see, and sentences like that, darling? That's how you die." Carlos was raised by the man, and he was definitely a man. One who had, he expected, terrified the hell out of Felipe Sánchez the night Carlos had been kicked out of the house...and instead of a seventeen year old Four making his way to Club Castle, he'd been picked up by a very angry Ten.

He kissed Gael back, though, and despite the soreness and pain - this was really as complete as he'd felt for a long time. He'd been thirteen the last time someone had rushed in, worried that he'd gotten himself killed. That had been his mother, he thought, and probably the last time someone cooked for him much, either. He didn't count Sarah's tendency to show up occasionally with a pie. "Mm, surprise me," he said. "I'm not picky."