Isaias made quick work jamming his clothes into the drawers. Intricate with his unusual jumbled system. Baffling to anyone if they decidedly take a decent peek in. But for Isaias, everything had its place, its order, it was a ritual but a comfort too. Not that there was much to unpack, he'd left a lot behind at home. And Isaias wasn't one to bring his whole life into one suitcase, no, essential belongings were his style.

And still, at least with essentials one could still have a round of things that looked like they were theirs. What he had brought were clothes, shoes, and anything he could grab when his family told him he was moving in with his aunt for a few months. It was all rushed and jumbled.

Silence enveloped him. Isaias didn't like the silence. Silence brought thinking, and thinking was a sharp double-edged sword. That he found himself at the tip's edge far too many times for comfort.

Rocking to his feet, his tall figure rose over the room and yet he still felt so small. The room was by no means tiny, it was homey and well designed. Clearly, his uncle's helping hands and his aunt's artistic crafty touch. It's evident that they prepared this room for him to stay in, who knows how long, weeks, maybe months? Isaias certainly didn't know.

What he did know, this was his life now. An empty room, with empty drawers, occupied by a less than put-together resident.

Hissing an aggravating sound, he roughly drew his fingers back through his curls, nails snagging in the tight knots. Eyes taking the entirety of the room, pausing at the jarred window, flicking away as he takes another look around. Tension on his shoulders eased. Chest softly releasing a low sigh, working his long fingers through the stubborn knot.

Isaias in truth wanted nothing more than to slip underneath the fluffy covers and curl into a tight little ball. At least then he would have some rest. Heaviness still pulled him down at each step, like pressured water around his ankles, each step he sunk another inch down. Throat coiled tightly to the point it burns. Yet, he kept up the overly stretched smile just fine, and it needed to.

Plopping down on the sheets, he dragged out his bag from under the bed, in between his feet.

A grumble threatened to claw its way out his throat, teeth set tightly. Looking at its contents. A small plastic bag peeked out, its presence submerging his ankles deeper. His aunt didn't need more concerns, he didn't want to do that to her, or to anyone else for that matter. This was his problem and his problem alone.

Throat tight, he blinked down at the bag. Filled with pamphlets and a thick meaningful booklet of the medicine and pills they gave him for his recovery, not that he even flipped through it, much less touched them. Shoved in there, waiting for him to read. Gnawing at him.

He'll have to take his medication in a few hours, the thought came abruptly, a frantic rush of realization. Acid rose through his throat.

Cautious fingers pressed on his tender brown skin, noting there was a twinge of pain in the numbness, his fingers twitched, dancing around his bruises. His fingers retreated.

Instead, Isaias snatched up his earphones, kicking the bag under once more. Taking out his phone which was still securely in 'airplane mode'. Feeling the cracks against his palm. He only gave himself an hour a day to download as many songs as he could, careful to avoid any social media apps, for obvious reasons.

The doorbell rang, the noise startling Isaias, spine straightening. As is followed by persistent irritable knocking. A call from his aunt travelled through the house, feet frisking their way to the door. Nerves spiking up, shooting to his feet, ignoring the way his muscles tensed at the sudden intrusive movement, he made his quick descent downstairs. Swallowing down the nerves that made their way up his throat, the rowdy noisy voices started to become clearer.

"Ughh, mum, you should have been there, and then dad picked us up with the car full of glitter--I mean look at my jeans,"

Someone snorts, "If you're so worried about your jeans, don't look at the back of your shirt--"

"You can't be serious!"

"Jesús, you're practically covered-- Jon, tell me you didn't let Suyana in the car with another art project,"

A rumbling nervous chuckle ensued, "Actually, amor, it was a--"

A battle cry splits the air, the sound followed by fast small feet dashing across Isaias as he takes the last step down. A blue glittery tutu blurring passed him, sending him stumbling back, he caught himself against the rail, a futter of grumbled curses following after the wake of glitter.

"Yana! Get back here--" Words sputtering at the sight of him, thick boots stumbling to a stop.

The familiar red flannel caught his eye first. Lean broad shoulders, t-shirt draping over the man's sturdy frame. Worn out and frayed at the edges, red patched-up sleeves rolled all the way to the elbow. A wide smile overtakes his surprised features, cheeks rounding and the side of his eyes crinkling. The finely cut beard was new though, Isaias noted with a grin.

Firm arms engulfed him into a tight embrace, muffling a grunt at the impact, startling a laugh out of him. The earthy smell of sandalwood struck his nose with far more familiarity than he liked to admit, warm and comforting.

Large gentle hands tousled his curls over his eyes, a grin split his face as he looked at beaming tawny eyes, "Isaias!"

His uncle breathed out his name like a blessing. Eyes glazed with emotion, smiles so big planets might as well orbit the man. Warm calloused hands grasped his broad shoulders. His touch was soft, caring, something Isaias hasn't had in a long time.

Isaias found himself blinking down in surprise. When he was younger his uncle had been a walking, talking and smiling mountain, lean with muscles and always a red flannel. His work demanded such labour, frame speaking of his hard efforts. And now Isaias had grown a head or so taller than his uncle.

"Mírate," His uncle took him all in, grinning with warm eyes.

Thrilled screams tore the air, bounding feet shot towards them, the collisions nearly sent them sprawling to the floor. If it hadn't been for his uncle's steady footing that held up against the sudden charge, sputtering protests. A laugh bubbled out of him.

"Oh, my god! You're here! You're actually here! How, when--" Wide soft brown eyes shun with glee.

Someone kept chanting his name as they clutched at his leg. Isaias looked down at both of them, they'd grown and just kept growing. Coya's head taller than he remembered. The same spin of waves layered with a heavy handful of glitter, that wasn't there before. No doubt the work of the youngest, Suyana. Who sported a wide cheeky grin, a few teeth missing here and there.

Before he could answer, both of the girls were swept up by firm arms. Coya muffled a saddened groan, and Suyana lifted in the air squealing, messy straight hair falling on her face, glitter sprinkling on the wooden floor.

"Okay, that's it, give him some space," Maywa gave a sloppy kiss on Suyana's cheek, flatting down her wild tutu, small stripy legs wiggling in the air.

"I'm the one without space here- mamá," Coya gasped for air, fighting the striped leggings that came her way.

Isaias hadn't known how grateful he was till the weight was gone, bruises throbbing under his clothes, he fought a wince. A relieved sigh exhaled out of Maywa, a hand delicately placed on her forehead as if she was keeping a thousand demons at bay with a single thread.

"I can't believe you almost let her get near the rug, like this--" His aunt held Suyana in front of her husband like one would hold a cat.

And Isaias could see why. Covered in yellow paint all the way to her white trainers, glitter practically sprinkling out of her hair and her dinosaur shirt tattered in dry glue. Her legs kicked in the air. Which, he could only presume they didn't come like that when bought. He took a look down at his own clothes, glittery.

The smile that began to wobble on Jon's face breaking into a grin, he clearing his throat to stop the laugh clawing up his throat. And promptly took Suyana off her hands. Coya mumbled relieved words under her breath, taking a large step back from the exploded disco ball that was her youngest sister.

"--she was this close Jon, mira mis dedos," His aunt held up to fingers inches apart, Suyana promptly copied her mother's action with gusto.

Isaias blinked and looked around for Coya's other half, eyes making their way to the door where a lanky and rather unkempt-haired boy stood awkwardly to the side. Smooth straight hair, curling at the ends, deep olive skin, and face filled with sharp lines, similar to his mother. Furrowed eyebrows, a long sturdy nose and a permanent curled lip, that didn't belong to either of his uncles, no, that was pure Julio.

Daffodil yellow headphones covered in stickers sat on his neck. Phone clutched into his hand and a baggy graphic t-shirt, Pac-man stamped all over as it hung to his small figure. Julio uncomfortably scratched the back of his neck, unsure where to place himself.

Isaias grinned, waving at him, "Aren't you going to say hi, to your favourite cousin?"

The boy's eyes narrowed, "You're pushing it,"

Even with saying that the boy paused and swiftly stuffed his phone in his pocket, walking over to Isaias, giving him an awkward but meaningful hug, arms tightening around his waist. Isaias hid his surprise, Julio wasn't much of a hugger and Isaias appreciated the effort. Ruffled his hair, making the boy jump back, lip curling in that signature Julio scowl.

Hands slicked the messy strands down, "Nope. That's it, you ruined it,"

Isaias puts his hands up in retribution, "My bad, forgot the whole no touching hair rule,"

"Good to see you, I guess," The boy grumbled, still trying to fix his hair to its former glory.

"You guess?"

Julio shrugs, "You're decent enough, compared to the other ones,"

"Thank you? I guess," Isaias snorted, grabbing the boy's head, smoothing down his hair and began walking to his uncles.

"Hey!"

Suyana was between her parents, her mother had a strange look on her face. Isaias had learnt all the ways her aunt expressed herself, none that he could understand but her facial expressions. But this was one look he couldn't decipher. Eyes tentatively absorbing every word from her daughter, swatted down directly at eye level, a fine crease between her thin brows.

"--and accidentally left the glue out, I tried the paint but that didn't work either," Suyana frowned, frustration overtaking her round features.

"And we started to learn about arctic animals, Riley said dragons lived under the ice so we decided to build a ship with a drill to visit them!" Her eyes lit up, changing the topic, feet couldn't stop moving.

Breathing an affectionate laugh, "That's great, amor, but don't you remember we agreed that the apron stays on when you start making things?"

"I-um, I remember it was in my backpack, I think," The little girl stopped to think, blinking in realisation.

"Mami, I forgot again," The little girl cried out.

"Hey, that's alright," Maywa assured, calming the frustrated girl.

"Everyone forgets things. You just need to keep reminding yourself so you don't repeat mistakes. Didn't you check your list after you got to your class?"

"No, I started to play with Riley," Suyana admitted, a pout forming, her mother understandably nodded.

"Okay, so next time what are you going to do?"

"Check the list,"

"Before or after class?"

"Before!"

"And?" Maywa nudged, a smile breaking out on her face.

Suyana blinked. Looking around, a soft tap on her head made her look up to her father, he gave a grin and a tiny wave.

"And help papa clean the car!" She roared charging at the front door and was instantly swooped up by burly arms.

Isaias wasn't sure what to make of the loving scene. It was strange and unfamiliar, and suddenly he felt out of place, like this world was not his. Intruder. The word was marked all over him that he wondered if anyone else could read it too. Ears began to flush with embarrassment, it was bitterness that he was feeling. Not for them but for his own home and family. Whose interactions were colder and harsher, sharp-edged questions, the distorted expression of never-ending discontent, biting mocking words--

Nail bit into his skin, Isaias gave himself a firm internal shake. Just stop.

"Espera, let's first get you clean, kay'?" Jon smoothed out her hair back, glitter falling on his beard as she began to wiggle for her escape. A yellow sock digging into his jaw, he sputtered a grunt.

"Thank god, me too, I got to get it out of my hair and jeans," Coya stressed, stretching out her t-shirt to see dried paint all over her.

"Aw, man, even the shirt,"

"Especially the shirt," Julio piped in, headphones secured on his ears, eyes zeroed on his phone, thumbs sliding as he played a game.

"And--" Jon bent down to retrieve a bag filled with tangerines,"--I got you these, mi amor,"

Maywa's eyes practically melted, "Mandarinas, see, I knew why I married you," Hugging the bag to her chest.

Her husband quirked an eyebrow, "Thought you married me because you loved me,"

"That was part of it," She leaned in to give him a quick kiss on his scruffy cheek, they pinked.

Then she turned to the children, clapping her hands, "Okay, everyone covered in glitter, line up to Double down,"

Isaias snorted a laugh, "'Double down'?"

The twins whipped at him with matching wicked smiles. That day Isaias learned what 'Double down' meant, his aunt equipped with hairspray and tape, a determined sharp glint in her eye. As one stands there and spins as she gets as much glitter off that poor soul. It was non-negotiable.

Everyone was sent all to clean themselves up and bring back the covered glittered clothes. Isaias had only been in contact with those contaminated for a few mere seconds has also been sent to clean up, his aunt practically chased him upstairs. Not that he minded the sudden demand to change clothes, other than passing the minefied of toys on his way, he simply changed into something similar and made sure to cover his bandages.