Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The sun. The sand. The dry air. Her black boots. Everything felt so heavy. The anxious blonde running beside her. The running that made her lungs burn. Her heart that was beating way to fast. Well, at least it was still beating at all. And then that stupid ass guy she talked to through the transmitter she just threw away. He literally had one job. How she hated people. And putos helicópteros .

All that got to much for Zulema. Sounds ridiculous, it really does, but she was so tired, SO TIRED of this kind of shit. She had been in situations similar to this one so often in her life and every single time it costed her all her strength and energy to fight and get her out of it. She had done this so often, that she literally got bored of it. Just bored. Which made her lack the energy to fight through. But there was another thing that was different in this moment in the desert: there was no reason to fight. Fight, just to die in a hospital in the end, without any dignity? Surely not. 

So Zulema stopped. Like she said to Macarena before, there was no reason to run away anymore, so she simply stopped running.

Maca saw Zulema stopping and bending over from the corner of her eye. She couldn't be serious. 

"What the the hell are you doing?" They really had got no time for this."Come on!"

"Get out of here" the other woman gasped.

Macarena looked devastated.

"Calm down, I don't do it for you" Zulema said with a slight smile. “Take care of yourself”

No. Maca immediatly knew what Zulema's intention was, but that was absolutely no option. 

"NO"

"You're not alone anymore"

Shut the fuck up .

"Zulema you are not yourself and this is surely not the moment for you to buckle once in a lifetime"

"Come on, corre and don't look back"

"I would, but you have to make up a tragedy in the least appropriate moment despite you..."

She sighs.

"...you know exactly I'm not going without you"

"Why? Why the hell rubia ?" 

Zulema really needed Maca to start running now, she just needed to know that she gets out of this safe, even if she didn't know where this urge came from.

"Remember? I betrayed you. I made you abort. I tried to kill you. Because of me you lost your loved ones. I am your ca- "

Maca felt like she was boiling over, mainly because of anger. She was so angry about Zulema, this stubborn bitch that cannot listen to her once. She was angry about this fucked up situation Zulema got her and her baby into. But the most angry, Maca was about herself. As much as she tried it, she couldn't manage to understand why the hell she wouldn't run towards this helicopter, for herself, for her baby and for a bright future. Instead she stood there, not moving one foot until Zulema would move hers.

And then Macarena felt something brewing deep inside her. Like lava, hotter than hell, cleaving its way through the hardest rock formations, in order to finally reach the surface. In her case the lava were words, and, as much as she tried, she couldn't stop them from reaching the surface.

"Because I need you, Zulema" 

While pronouncing these words with her breaking voice, Maca expected to feel strange, but instead she felt...relieved. It was a weird but yet beautiful sensation and she realised that this exact moment was the absolute and only right one to finally let out this truth she hadn’t wanted to admit for so long.

"And now COME ON or we won't get out of this alive" 

Within Zulema, a switch was flipped. The words hit her like a slap in the face, like a bucket full of ice water someone poured over her, and she woke up. Not one second later she was running again. Like she had never been before. Next to her, the rubia . The rubia that NEEDED her. Which changed quite a lot, if she wanted it or not. Well no, she had to correct herself, she ran like this before, unfortunately too often in her life, but the difference was that now, she wasn't running away from something any longer. No, from now on, she ran TOWARDS something. To be exact, Zulema ran in this very moment towards three words.

I need you . I need you . I. need. you. 

These echoing in her head kept her going like fuel keeps relentlessly going a car. 

Despite everything, the cars came closer and closer. Therein: cold-hearted men that wanted nothing but finally make use of their heavy arms. Both of the women were out of breath, more with every step, desperately trying to get near the helicopter which in turn didn't seem to approach in any way. 

While Macarena felt pure and nasty angst in her whole body, Zulema was genuinely surprised she was running. It seemed unreal to her, like a dream, like her head fooling her. Not even because of the absurd situation, but because she didn't recognize herself: she has had an exact vision in her mind of how this would turn out, one could almost say she planned it, like she always does thanks to her ceaseless cleverness, and then? From one second to another, she acted on an instinct. Without even thinking about it first. Without weighing her options first. Without considering the consequences first. And moreover, the fact Macarena was the one triggering this instinct...But now was definitely not the moment for an identity crisis. 

One look behind her back told Zulema they had to pick up their pace even more. And although it seemed impossible, with all the adrenaline coursing through their bodies, they did. 

"TAKE THE FUCK OFF" Zulema screamed towards the guy steering the helicopter as she stepped into the machine, right after Macarena.

The helicopter immediately went off, to be exact in last possible moment before Ramala's herd was close enough to plant some bullets, and the two women let themselves slump into the two opposed chairs. 

"We did it" Maca whispered, still gasping for air, and her hand instinctively went to her stomach.For a couple of minutes the two just sat there waiting for their breath and pulse to calm down again, extremely exhausted from all that running and adrenaline. 

But after a time, when they relaxed enough, their brains started working again and the memory of what just had happened needed to be processed. The helicopter suddenly felt too small as two thoughts hung in the air: Macarenas words and her refuse to let Zulema behind and the effect this had on Zulema. The heavy tension created by this was so unbearable that the two women couldn't even look at each other, simply because there inevitably and obviously changed something between them, but neither of them knew how to handle it. 

Clearly, it's not like their relation never changed before, it changed when Maca came looking for Zulema after her release from prison, it changed when they agreed on having a life together and yes, it also changed on New Years Eve, even if with the short talk in the morning after they tried to convince each other as well as themselves that their sex wouldn't be haunting their minds on a nearly daily basis. However, this time it was the obviousness and concreteness of the change that made it so insupportable, the feeling of not being able to ignore nor hide it.

Zulema felt so uncomfortable with these thoughts running through her mind that she had to break the silence. 

"I guess we're going to Morocco" she said, giving Maca a half-smirk, curling only one corner of her mouth up.

The blonde, silently thanking her for bursting the weird tension, placed both of her elbows on her knees and tilted her head down to massage her temples with her fingers. 

"I can't believe it" she lets out with sigh, but couldn't prevent smiling slightly at the situation. Suddenly, she looks up, at Zulema, to ask her where they were EXACTLY going. "I mean, Morocco is big. What is your plan?" 

But the woman in front of her stayed silent. Maca frowned. 

"Hold up, are you telling me you have nothing planned?"

Brown eyes seeming to stare into the nothing. 

"Because you didn't even plan to get into this helicopter? Joder Zulema" 

Zulema simply rolled her eyes and tilted her head to the side, since her face seemed to reveal too much, to stare out the window. Nothing but desert. Aproubtly, an idea hit her like a flash. Continuing to look out the window, pensively, she stated " No te preocupes rubia , I know damn well where we are going" and looked back at Maca again, who had a brow lifted. Then, deciding that she wanted no more information for the moment and knowing Zulema was serious, she just shrugged. "Well then". 

The brunette leaned back in her seat with a sigh, trying to relax all her muscles, and closed her eyes. She could feel Macarenas glance on her. After a minute had passed, she heard her saying "Your hair look better now. I mean, in comparison to last time we went to Morocco together. Just saying" 

That made her smile.

Chapter Text

One hour and thirty six minutes. 

That's time they were already sitting in this car. Macarena fights against her heavy eyelids that threaten to close at any moment. Sinking deeper into the passenger seat, she asks the woman behind the steering wheel "How much longer will it take?", a nearly whining tone in her voice.

"Am I a fucking satnav?" Zulema snorts.

"I wish you were" 

"PleEase turn riGht in fifty meters. Afterwards, tuUrn left. Turn right, nOw. Now, tuUrn left. You will reach your destination in an unknown amount of time. Please stay patient-" Zulema imitates a robotic voice. 

Maca rolls her eyes "ye-heah we got it" but has to chuckle then. 

The brunette takes a deep breath and smiles slightly.

"Are you still not telling me where we are going?"

"Nope" 

A bit more than two hours ago, after they landed, Macarena watched Zulema as she was talking to the man who steered the helicopter, typing something into her phone. Thank god she still had some contacts in Morocco that are immediately on the spot when you promise them money. Thank god x2 the pilot was one of them, which made it much easier to connect with the rest. After saving the numbers she needed and grudgingly thanking the helicopter guy, Zulema first made several calls to get them a car and made then sure it was possible to go where she wanted to, most of this in arabic. Luckily, it didn't take long until they could first hear and then also see a black jeep approaching them. The driver, extremely tanned and with huge sunglasses, got out, gave Zulema the keys and they changed a few words, before the two women could finally get in. While doing so, Maca asked what their destination was, but Zulema simply replied "It’s a surprise". 

Not having the strength to think about it now, Macarena looks along the endless seeming road ahead of the car, being able to divine the sea on the horizon, far away, before her eyelids give in.

"Rubia "

She startled. Mierda, has she really slept?

"We arrived"

Maca feels the car is standing still and slowly opens her eyes, being dazzled by the light. After needing a few moments to fully wake up, she could see clearly again, so that her eyes find the white house in front of the car. 

Square-cut construction. Not too big but not too small, only one floor. Blue details. A little terrace at the back and stairways that lead directly to the beach behind. She immediately recognizes it. 

"You can't be serious" she squeals.

"Oh I totally am" Zulema says as she contemplates the staring blonde from the side, a smirk on her face.

"This is where we went when you forced me to break ou-"

"Nahh let's say it was our first vacation together" she chuckles.

And with these words Zulema grabs the keys, winks at Maca and leaves the car heading towards the entrance of the house. 

Macarena was still sitting in the jeep for a moment, as pictures of the rapist on the beach and Zulema shooting the innocent Casper run through her mind. To her surprise, it left her quite cold. Probably too many years had passed and too many changes had happened within her person that these memories could affect her. After she gathered herself, she shakes her head and blinks a couple of times, before stepping out of the car as well, making her way up to the already opened door and into the house.

As Macas eyes wander through the habitation, she discovers that almost nothing changed since they were here years ago. The furniture looked the same, the blue entrance door, the white curtains for the windows with blue frames, the white and blue kitchen counter that extends into the main room and the weirdly shaped passage in the wall towards the bathroom. Unwillingly, she lets out a loud laughter that had bubbled up in her stomach. How ironic my life is.  

Back then, she was like a little helpless mosquito, being unable to cope with everything that happened around her, and hanging onto Fabio as if her life depended on it. And it did in some kind of way. She remembers the plan he explained her to save herself, well más o menos , and how she gratefully did everything he instructed her to.

“Reminiscing?” Zulema interrupts her thoughts, suddenly coming out of the bathroom.

Maca startles a bit, then takes a deep breath and replies “I just remembered what horrible of a person you were”, giving her an ironic smile.

“You were ?” Zulema lifts her brows. “I’ll take that as a compliment” she said with a little smile, not letting the blonde the opportunity to contradict as she turned around and headed to the bedroom. 

She chucks her jacket onto the floor, takes off her boots and lets herself fall onto the bed with a sigh. Damn, she was so exhausted. Lying there, on her flat back, she was finally able to relax her whole body, but which made her actually feel the pain everywhere inside her body. Her legs, her back, her arms, her neck, her head, everything hurted. She was absolutely not in form. When the hell did I get this old?  she wonders. But whatever, at least she knew she still looked quite good. I mean, for my age y todo. Sliding a bit up on the bed, to rest her head on the pillow, she snorts smugly at her own thoughts. After that, it doesn’t last long until her thoughts drift away and the sleep she needs so badly infolds her.

In the meantime, Macarena decided to look for something to eat. To her surprise, the cupboards contained eatable things, mostly long life products like pasta, rice, crackers, different tinned food and some arabic stuff she couldn't figure out what it was. She spreads some things on the kitchen counter, to mix herself a random meal, when suddenly and totally unexpected a clear memory comes into her mind: Zulema dipping two fingers into a white sauce, putting them into her mouth and licking them, while looking at Maca. 

Why do I even remember this?  She must have completely lost her mind, Maca thought to herself. Or Zulema was just tremendously sexy. But WHATEVER. 

After having eaten something (which wasn't really good but well the essential was that she wasn't hungry any longer), Macarena decides to take a shower. Entering the bathroom, she inevitably saw Casper getting shot right in front of her, blood sprinkling everywhere. But as she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, the memory was gone again. It feels like it belongs to another world, if not universe. So many things had changed since then. And even if she was here with Zulema again, she felt like she was here with not exactly the same person, as well as not the same version of herself.

Maca took her time with the shower. The feeling of warm water running down her skin was relieving in some kind of way, as if there was mud sticking to her skin that piled up there during the time in the El Oasis hotel. By cleaning herself off, she felt like she could also let go the shit that happened in this damn hotel, watching it drain through the efflux. 

After definitely having washed away everything, she steps out of the shower, wrings out her long hair, wraps a white towel around her body and makes her way to the bedroom, with the hope to find some clothes in there. But when she opens the door, the first things her eyes find is a peacefully sleeping Zulema. 

Aw . She cocks her head and smiles a bit as her eyes rest on the sleeping woman’s face, just to immediately frown and shake her head at her own reaction. 

When Macarena opens two doors of the wardrobe, she gratefully finds underwear and a white, middle-long dress that seemed to fit her. After assuring herself with a glance that Zulema was still asleep, she drops the towel to the floor and puts on her find. As soon as she was done, she wanted to make her way out of the bedroom again, but something stops her right before grabbing the doorknob. The blonde woman turns around, just to rest her eyes on Zulema again. The sight transmitted her peace in some kind of way. As she couldn’t resist to get a bit closer, she takes a few steps and takes a seat on the left, and free, side of the bed. It was a beautiful sight, if she was being honest. Zulema, without a frown, a smug smirk or a hard look on her face, just lying there, calm and vulnerable. How Maca embraced such moments when it came to Zulema. She loses herself in the view, when suddenly the supposed sleeping woman rapidly tilts her head, opens her eyes and throws a “boo” at the blonde. Maca couldn’t help but let out a little scream as she startles, instinctively moving back to stand up from the bed. “FUCK my heart jumped” she exclaims. 

Zulema, still lying on her back, convulses with laughter. When she looks at Maca, wanting to say something, she can’t, as she has to laugh even louder, but after a moment she manages to wheeze a “ Joder, look at you” and “As if I was satan”.

“You are” Macarena snorts annoyed and leaves the room. 

Left behind in the bedroom, Zulema still chuckled a bit. She had been awake since the moment Maca opened the door, due to the noise this made, but was too lazy to move or open her eyes. When she divined a towel dropping to the floor, it was actually quite hard to resist and NOT squint through her lashes to catch a glimpse of what she hadn’t seen in so long. Anyway. She was very aware Macarena had been staring at her for a way too long time. And this bitch accused her of watching her when she sleeps back at the hotel. What a clown . Still, Zulema had to smile slightly at the thought.

Chapter Text

" Pero qué coño haces aquí? "

What the hell was that? It only took her seconds to realise. 

Still sitting on the bed, Zulema closes her eyes and slowly lets out a deep breath. She actually forgot about it for a while. The phantom of herself in the inmate clothes leans against the wall next to the bed, contemplating her. Though Zulema has her eyes closed, trying to ignore it, she still feels her presence, like a ghost, haunting her wherever she goes.

Suddenly, a nasty laugh sounds through the room. 

"Ay díos, have you looked at yourself in the mirror today? You are a riduculous creature. " 

Zulema's hands dig into the blanket, forming fists. Nasty laughters, again.

"No, you won't get rid of me, neither by bashing me nor by closing your eyes. Estoy dentro de tí. Accept it, Zuleima. "

Anger brews up in Zulema. "I actually already did so leave me the FUCK alone" she murmurs through her clenched teeth.

"Oh right, my fault, that's why you decided to die dig-ni-fied in the desert, no? Good idea I must admit. "

Where are my damn pills?

"But then why exactly are you here now? Alive? You know, it doesn't seem to add up quite well. "

Her old self makes some hand movements and a grimace, mockingly pretending to be confused. 

A quiet but genuine "I don't know" escapes Zulemas mouth. Which was exactly the reason she had refused to think about it until now. 

"Oh you know very well. "

Dark eyes staring into the nothing.

"No? Well, I'll help you: You got weak. And as if this wasn't enough, of all things, you got weak for the rubia tonta. Ay qué mierda. " 

That was enough. Zulema abruptly leaps up from the bed and, with an angry yell, uses her right hand to grab her old self by the throat. As she violently presses her against the wall, Zulema hears a pressed " You don't hate her anymore, admit it. One could even say she's quite important to you, no? " 

In answer to that, with an even louder yell, Zulema grips the other one's throat even tighter, sways her right arm around, and throws her ghost that way onto the floor. 

Not even devoting it one more glance, Zulema reaches for her jacket that was still lying on the floor and hastily rummages through the pockets. Once she found her pills, she throws 3 at once into her mouth, one more than she should usually take, and gratefully swallows them. 

Nevertheless, a dulled voice from the floor reached her ears: " But of what avail is it? What does it even matter? You coward don't have the courage to tell her anyway. Oh and also, you can count the days you have left on 2 hands. And thanks to yourself, you'll die slowly and abject, in a filthy hospital. BRAVO. " 

And with these words and a few handclaps, the ghost in the yellow prison clothes was finally gone.

Macarena was in the living room when she heard the yelling that came out of the bedroom. She panicked for a moment, instinctively supposing there was an intruder or something that was threatening them, but bethinks then. My paranoia really won't recover from prison . Although Maca guesses it was just Zulema being the maniac she is, she heads towards the bedroom for reassurance. But as she walks through the corridor, she already sees Zulema through the gap of the half-opened door. Maca's steps stop when her eyes get stuck on the brunette sitting on the edge of the bed, bent forward, her front falling into her right hand that supports her head, her eyes closed. Thanks to the amount of time they had spent together, Macarena could read on her despaired face that she didn't know if she should rant or cry. 

The unusual sight hits the blonde like a slap in the face. Still standing in the middle of the corridor, paralyzed, something abruptly returns to her mind she had completely forgotten about: the tumor. 

When she first found out about it, back in the hotel, she had simply pushed the thought aside, not really caring about it, since she was blinded by her anger against Zulema and the unpromising situation, as well as her urge to get back to her family and a normal life. 

But what had happened in the desert changed everything. The prospect of Zulema's imminent death in this moment. Macarenas inability to let her behind. And, as a consequence, her realisation that, in spite of everything, she indeed NEEDS the person she once hated more than anything on this planet.

But in that moment in the corridor, Maca also realised something else: With her decision to leave Zulema, she had taken the first kind of home the brunette ever had from her. Particularly in the last months of her life. Suddenly, a feeling of guilt spreads in the blonde's chest, even tho she didn’t wanted it to. But anyways, it was already too late.

Or is it? Maybe not entirely . Eyes still resting on Zulema's dejected face, thoughts rush through Macarenas head of what Zulema could need now. After she came to a conclusion, she takes some quiet steps back to the living room, and, once she arrived, shouts "Zulema where are more towels?". Then, taking extra loud steps towards the bedroom, she exclaims "We're going to the beach!"

When she enters the door, Zulema looks up to her, a little confused. " Qué? ". She was taken out of her thoughts.

A smile appears on Macarena's face and as she lifts her brows a bit, she states confidently "It's an order".

Losing herself in the blonde's smile for some moments, Zulema's face lights up a little and she gathers herself.

"You just want to see me in underwear, don't you?" 

Macarena blinks a couple of times, confused, but then decides to play along. After she leaned down a bit, she puts on a slightly seducing look and whispers into Zulema's face "And what if?"

Adopting the facial expression, the brunette approaches her face even more and answers "Well, then you'll have to rip off my clothes yourself. But I guess that would end very bad." 

Maca breathes in through her mouth, wanting to say something, but then stops. She frowns. "Wait do you mean "bad" like you knocking me out or like...you know-" 

"The towels are there" Zulema interrupts her harshly, and points towards the cabinet with her index, not breaking the eye contact. 

After further seconds of the staring battle, a mysterious smile starts to form on the brunettes lips, before she gets up and heads out of the room, leaving behind a confused but nevertheless teased blonde.

As soon as they had one foot into the sand, a bright smile spreaded on both of the women's faces. The blue twinkling water, the soft sand, the light sound of the waves breaking, the soon setting sun; everything was so beautiful. And kind of releasing and refreshing after what they had gone through. 

While Maca was still in her white dress, Zulema wore a long black t-shirt, made out of a thin and nearly see-through fabric. But only nearly. 

When they approach the water, Zulema suddenly starts to run and laughs as she hurls herself into the water. Damn how she missed the sea and the beach. It always gave her the feeling of endless freedom.

After diving around under water until her lungs burned in need of oxygen, she surfaces again. To her surprise, the water wasn't even cold, or maybe she just didn't perceive it, since the feeling of this other kind of freedom took her over. 

Some minutes later, floating around in the water, Zulema looks back to the beach, her eyes searching for Macarena. She finds her standing with just her feet in the water, holding her right hand against the sun to then pass it from the top to the bottom of her face. A déjà-vu. The thought of the situation they were in last time they were here, and what had changed since then, made the brunette chuckle.

But she also had to admit that the sight was quite enjoyable. The white dress, Maca's long blonde hair lightly waving in the breeze and her skin shining in the soft light of the setting sun. Damn this hallucination for being right. 

Words she had heard not so long ago start ringing through Zulema's head again: I need you. 

Her lips curling, maybe even a bit smugly, she drops to the back and lifts her legs to the surface, so that she's lying flat on her back in the water. Then, not holding it back at all, she starts to laugh, loud and deep from within her stomach. How absurd it all was. It seemed so amusing to her, she couldn't even stop giggling for a long while.

But then Zulema suddenly perceives an unfamiliar, if not weird feeling within herself. 

Something that had always seemed so far away, suddenly spreads in her entire body.

Peace . 

Actually, it was more than weird. It was SO long ago that she felt at peace, that she even had forgotten HOW it felt. Most of her lifetime there had been something that was wrong, something out of place. Mainly big issues, sometimes little ones. 

But in this exact moment, while floating on the water, Zulema felt like she was in the right place, at the right time. And, no matter how absurd it was, with the right person. 

Still laughing, she closes her eyes and tries to burn this moment into her memory. 

Life could actually be beautiful sometimes .

But then, unfortunately, reality inevitably hits her again, as if someone crashed a stone onto her head: Hers had to end soon. Very soon. Too soon . When it was finally a bit beautiful. 

The realisation first lets her laughters fade, then turns them into quiet sobs. Not being able to hold them back, warm tears stream down the brunettes face, directly into the large ocean. 

At the time, Macarena had sat down on the sand, a few meters behind the water, so that she wouldn't get wet. Her eyes had been resting on Zulema constantly, contemplating her attentively. When the brunette wouldn't stop laughing, her lips automatically curled a bit, just because it was such a genuine laugh, and she wondered what must have gone through her head. 

But then she noticed the change of her facial expression, despite the distance separating them, and realised Zulema started to cry. 

Seconds had passed, feeling like hours, but Zulema wouldn't stop. The sight lets Macarena feel something she didn't expect at all: a literal pain in her chest. The tumor . As if it was coming directly from her heart, the pain spreaded in all directions.

It was horrible. Unfamiliar. Zulema dying this way absolutely doesn't seem right , Maca thinks to herself, not at all . Like a misunderstanding. But she has to push the thought aside: It was wishful thinking , she admits to herself. Not reality.

Thus, being reminded of the tumor again, and therefore of Zulemas proximate and indispensable death, while directly looking at the painful picture of her crying, Macarena has a sudden realisation. And she makes a definitive decision. 

But the pain in her chest stays.

The sun was already red when Zulema came out of the water. While sitting down in the sand, next to Macarena, she asks her what she was thinking about. The blonde had been staring unceasingly into the red sun above the water during the last few minutes. 

"Do you remember this guy, i mean, this rapist? That attacked you on this exact beach all these years ago?" 

"Clearly. And what about it?" 

"I just had to think about how, back then, i simply pointed the gun at his head to scare him and made him leave that way. And how you literally yelled at me afterwards. ¿Porque coño no has disparado? " 

Zulema snorts at the imitation.

"You were so angry I didn't shoot him, I couldn't believe it. Well, and then, there was New Year's Eve. I..."

She takes a deep breath.

"I killed every single one of them. Shot them. Without even thinking about it. Like a robot. Boom boom boom. Like a cold machine without any feelings. And you? You only said I could have just shooted in the air to scare them and they would have been gone. I don't know. It's funny and scary at the same time." 

Maca stops talking. She felt as if she missed her point, as if she had forgotten what this comparison actually was about, therefore she decided to simply wait for an answer from Zulema. When she never receives one though, she tilts her head to the side, a questioning look on her face, the other woman doing it immediatly after her. 

And when their eyes lock, as so often, the point was suddenly crystal clear. It was one of these moments where they would communicate without words, understanding each other nevertheless. The fact hanging in the air between them was inevitable: They influenced each other. More than they actually wanted to. 

" Joder " they said simultaneously while tilting their head back to face the horizon. Silence sprawled between them. The sunlight seemed to have become even more red, bathing the ocean and beach in a burning light. 

After some minutes, Zulema hears Macarena asking "And you? What were you thinking about?". Obviously the blonde had seen her in the water. Crying.

Zulema in- and exhales deeply and looks around. She actually just wanted to absorb the view. She didn't want to talk. Not about it . Not with Macarena. But she also knew that now was the moment.

"Dying."

Her eyes fix the sun again. It now seemed to touch the water.

"I'm not scared, you know that. Everyone knows that. Death has and will never scare me. What always fucked me up was not being able to live the way i wanted to. To maybe get old in that damned filthy prison. I mean, yes, most people that know me probably think that it's exactly what i deserve. And aside from that they can kiss my ass, I understand why they are thinking this way. Fuck, i know i'm a damn psychopath. And I did unforgivable things, yes. But doesn't life fuck up all of us somewhen? Some earlier, some later, some less, some more. You just gave the perfect example by the way. And no, i'm not whining about my mother tainting me from the the day i was born or the asshole that violated me or the son of a bitch that took away my daughter and got me into prison in the end, where this bunch of other suffering begun. Though all these horrible things made me the way i am in the end, I never have. Because just like fear, it leads to nothing. It's just that..."

Zulema makes a pause and closes her eyes, tightening the grasp from her arms around her legs.

"I suddenly don't bear the thought of dying soon any longer. I don't want to. I really don't. I always thought that in the end, death is actually meaningless because everything goes on: there will still be christmases, summers, birthdays, elections...just that you're not here anymore"

She sighs.

"But maybe that's exactly the problem. When this puto doctor told me that I only have months left, it was the way i would die that made me furious, but not dying itself or when it was going to happen. Tarde o temprano, you know. But now that months have passed...I want to be here more than ever."

It seemed weird to say it out loud.

"Maybe it's this psychological thing where you want the most what you can have the least. But to tell the truth it's probably because..." - she holds her breath for some seconds - "Because life is a bit beautiful again" 

Her voice got more and more quiet during the sentence. She opens her eyes again. 

"I mean, i'm free. And while floating in the water i realised that i'm kind of in peace with myself and everything that's around me. Joder, I couldn't even remember the word peace. And at the moment I feel like I'm in the right place. I mean, look. Look around you!"

She lets her eyes wander around and points with her arms in every direction. 

Macarena does it after her, but there was this watery curtain im front of her pupils, blurring her sight. 

"Look! I want to see this EVERY fucking evening. But how many times am I going to see it again, huh? 6? 7?"

Zulema puts her hands beside her angled legs, into the sand, and looks to the side, away from Macarena, since she felt a pressure behind her eyes again. 

"Why now? Why? Am I destined to have not one single period of time in my life that i would define as beautiful? Just little moments that were punished with pain afterwards?"

She didn't even know if her voice had a rather ranting or whining tone. Maybe all at once. What she knew was that she probably shouldn't confess the following to the blonde AGAIN, but the words bubbled out of her without hold, just because the thought fucked her up so much.

"Why now that I feel for the first time in my life kind of at...at-" 

Her voice broke. 

"At home?" Maca whispers towards the horizon, hardly hearable. 

Nevertheless, Zulema heard a bit guilt out of it. And that the blonde was touched. Which slightly warmed her heart, if this was even possible.

"Yes" she confirmed quietly. 

After some moments of silence, she suddenly perceives a hand carefully taking her own that was still lying in the sand. Her arm automatically pulls back a bit as she startles, not having expected the touch at all. Her confused face turns into Macas direction. That's when she sees the tears rolling down on each of the blonde's cheeks. 

Macarena didn't know what had happened to her, why Zulema's words had touched her so profoundly or why she felt the need to comfort her at least a bit. But she actually couldn't care less at the moment. She only knew that she wanted to take her once worst enemie's hand. So all she could do when Zulema's eyes met her face was looking down to her sprawled out hand to encourage the other one to take it. 

Indeed, Zulema's features soften at the sight, and she finally glides her hand into the other one, even if a bit shyly.

The moment was unique. The red sun that seemed to plunge into the ocean, the light sound of the waves breaking, the warm breeze, the soft sand underneath their bodies; all these things enframed it beautifully. But what made the moment magical was the fact that the extraordinary story of the two women had in the end led to this exact moment. All these years of fighting, tearing down and attempted murders, but yet not getting along without each other and living together in a weird cooperation of purpose, led them to holding each other's hands in an emotional moment. Just because they had no one else. And because with all this history they have, they couldn't help but mean something to each other, no matter if in a positive or negative way. Or maybe both.

They stayed like this until the sun completely disappeared. It felt like an eternity, but that bothered neither of them.

When only a little corner of the sun was still visible on the horizon, projecting the last rays on the water, Zulema broke the silence again:

"We're not going to talk about this again" 

"Right" Maca replied. 

But their hands even squeezed a bit more.