Harana: Camilo x Reader

CHAPTER EIGHT

𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭: 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

♫

     Friction— the air felt tight, it cracked under the tension. Francisco sat on the couch, his arms were crossed and his legs were spread. His gaze was sharp, pointed like the edge of a sword, "Who's C.M?" He bellowed. Y/N closed the door behind her, and sucked in her lips, "Pa, please."

     Francisco got up from the couch, paced around the coffee table, and ranted, "I get that you have your own life." Y/N refrained from her self from sneering; it was hard to talk back when he kept going on. "But I think you're starting to forget why we came here in the first place, I think you forget about your mother-" She glared at her father, her hands balling into a fist till her nails dug on her skin, "I hadn't, can't say the same for her." Leonora hardly saw her through the smoke of her cigarette. She was barely a mother to her.

     He threw his hands up, obviously frustrated— of course, he would choose his dear wife's side over his own daughter, he had so much love to give but too little for the both of them. "I'm just so tired, Y/N, I can't do this alone." Anger turned into guilt, she knew what she did wrong and she should have known better than to snap at her exhausted father. The tables have turned and it was now him who hadn't seen the sky for so long. They were supposed to care for Leonora together, and yet Y/N had scarcely even been in the same room as her these past few days.

     Y/N approached Francisco, unsure whether to wrap her arms around him or to cower in shame. In the end; she just stood there. "Your mother... I think she's rejecting the cure." Tears welled up in his eyes, he looked to the side. Little by little, he began to truly see the Leonora they had at present; she was no longer youthful, she was a hollow shell.

     Francisco looked at Y/N; his eyelids lay lazily in the middle and the bags under his eyes were dark and saggy, "Just promise me you'll spend more time with her, we're all she's got."

     The following day; Y/N found herself grasping at the metallic doorknob, it was cool to her touch. Her father was out doing groceries and it was now her turn to care for her mother. She twisted the knob and pushed the door open— Leonora didn't budge, she just stared ahead of her like she always does. Y/N sat on the empty side of the bed, her gaze solely on the window.

     She was afraid of the woman beside her, afraid of what she'd see if she turned. And so, she searched for Leonora's hand until her fingers met her leathery skin. She rubbed her thumb against her mother's veined hands, "Ma, it's been a while." No response. Y/N chuckled bitterly, "Moving to Colombia was scary," She paused. It had been a rough journey, she was a square among circles. "But I did make some friends." Lucia, Mirabel, and maybe even Camilo, she wasn't sure about him yet.

     "Honestly, that's why you haven't seen me around that much." Y/N doubted that Leonora even noticed and it didn't hurt that much anymore, she was numbed. Her mind wandered over to Camilo, unaware that she was already smiling. She wanted to guess what he had in store for later— yesterday, her heart beat wildly, the adrenaline rush was tantalizing. 

     She spent the whole afternoon in silence, she didn't bother talking to the air anymore. Francisco came back with a sizeable amount of groceries, he took over Leonora after he restocked their cabinets. Y/N stepped aside as Francisco entered the room with a recently heated arepa on a plate, it was already cut up into bite-sized pieces.

     As she was about to gather her things, she watched him feed her mother. Maybe her eyes were tricking her because it seemed like Leonora didn't chew at all. Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head to rid her of assuming thoughts. 

     "Pa, I'm gonna go now." He waved her off, he placed the plate on the nightstand. "Be back before dinner." His tone felt bitter.

     The walk to the garden was uneventful, it was the second place she was most familiar with right after Lucia's little store. She used to see the garden as the place where the most intricate and beautiful flowers bloom but now, it was the place where she meets Camilo as he had overshone everything that resides in it. It was weird that she associated him more with the botanical garden than Mirabel's older sister— maybe one day, she'll meet her and maybe even ask her about the flora and fauna.

     She could finally breathe again, the smell of freshly cut grass and the sound of children laughing. Their house didn't feel like home yet; it was stuffy and death constantly looms. But the garden was the opposite; it was breezy and buzzing with life.

     She walked aimlessly in the grassy field. Surprisingly, Camilo was nowhere in sight. Did she get the date and time wrong? She remembered vividly that he told her to come today after lunch, she even wrote it on her palm so she wouldn't forget. She looked around, searching for him only to find herself in a spot she hadn't gone to yet; the shrubs were messy and overgrown, the greenery was uneven.

     Someone grabbed her from behind and pulled her behind a bush, she squeaked in surprise and landed on her bum. "Oops, sorry, here." She looked up to see Camilo offering his hand to her, he had followed her trail without her noticing. She pouted at him but accepted his help anyways. "This part looks abandoned." Camilo pulled her up, she almost collided with him. He chuckled, his fingers lingered on her skin for a second, "It's perfect."

     The flowers had already wilted, and weeds sprouted everywhere. Y/N shivered, "Uh-huh, it's so perfect that I can see myself dying in it." Camilo snorted, giving her an amused smile, "Leave the dramatics to me, querida." He showed her the paper bag he brought yesterday, this time it wasn't filled with lemons, "I have a little something for you." He chirped, his arm deep inside the bag.

     He took out an onyx ruana and wrapped it around Y/N's shoulders, he made sure to wash it because it was stored in a little carton under his bed for years. Y/N breathed inhaled the scent; it smelt like lemongrass, a little nod to their prank yesterday. Camilo cheekily grinned at her, his ruana looked almost perfect for her—  and it could have been if it was as radiant as her. "Tada, do you like it?" The tip of her ears blushed pink as he twirled her around, the garment was a little bit big however comfortable to wear.

     "I thought you only wore yellow?" It was true, the Madrigals were known to be color-coded— a weird fashion choice but it did make them stand out even more. Camilo shrugged, "I had my rebel teen phase." It wasn't really rebellious per se, it was more 'black is the color of my soul' kind of thing. Y/N hummed in response, as curious as she can get, she knew that was a story for another day.

     She stared at the paper bag, it wasn't empty. He followed her gaze with a mischievous smirk, teasingly lifting an eyebrow at her, "I hope you're ready for day two." He dropped the bag and pulled out the remaining object; it was his mother's makeup.