Young!Bruno Madrigal×Male Reader

•Meeting Bruno

Bruno is perfect
Guide:
(Y/N)=Your Name
(H/C)=Hair Color
(H/L)=Hair Length
(H/T)=Hair Type
(S/C)=Skin Color

You fumble into your family's clothing store, carrying a large stack of different colored fabrics taller than your head in your arms. Scooching past the racks of pants and shirts, you pant heavily. "Oye, you need help?" Your younger brother Emilio asks from the other side of the counter, leaning his elbow against the tile and resting his chin in the palm of his hand. "Nope." You manage to mumble out. Groaning tiredly, you use your hip to bump open the door connected to the back sewing room. "Mamí, I got what you needed." You say, setting the materials on the table next to her. Your mother, Constanza, pauses on the dress she was currently adding a trim too, standing up from her chair. She grabs your face, kissing your cheek. "Thank you, hijo." She says, going over the table and picking up a patch of fabric, unfolding it.

"Oh, these are just beautiful..." She murmurs to herself, inspecting it. You smile knowing your mother was satisfied with them since you went through the trouble of searching hours for a specific texture of cloth she wanted. You plop down in a chair that was next to your father, who was currently adding the padding to a pair of leather shoes. He stops for a moment, leaning back and cracking his knuckles. "Eat." Your dad says, pushing a large plate of arepas con queso towards you. You take off your glasses and set them atop your head, digging into the food with no reluctance. Your dad suddenly remembered something important, snapping his fingers. "Mí amor, have you gotten those shirts ready? We need them for display." He looks over his shoulder to your mother, who was very much still gawking at the materials. Your baby sister was also present, waddling up to you and making a grabbing motion. "Hola, Angelina!" You say in a baby-toned voice whilst you bend down, grunting as you scoop your hands under her armpits and lift her. Sitting here on your hip, you gently bounce your leg, stuffing your face with arepas.

She makes a shooing motion with her hand, brushing him off. "Yeah yeah, they're over there." Constanza says with a slightly cranky tone. Your father, Mauricio, tweaks his own glasses as he looks around the room. "Where is "over there" exactly?"

Constanza sets down the patch of cloth, glancing around the room as well. She harshly rolls her eyes in agitation, clenching her fist. "DIEGO JUANITEZ VERGARA." She shouts firmly, smoothing back her long, curly black hair in frustration. Your elder brother enters the back, a red poncho draped over his forearm. "What, what!?" He says in annoyance. "I tell you not to move the clothes, and what do you do? Move the clothes." She complains.

"You told me to move them, Mamí!" He whines, tossing his hands in the air in irritation. Diego sets the clothing down on your mother's table.

She holds up her index finger, indicating to your brother to be quiet. "Wait, speaking of clothes..." Your mom reached down under her work table, taking out a very elegant-looking wooden box. The interior is laced with silky purple velvet. She then takes a long, flowing yellow dress off the rack and folds it neatly, placing it inside. "I'm sorry (Y/N), I need you to go out again." You swallow the excessive amount of food in your cheeks, wiping your mouth. "No no, it's alright." You stand up, carefully placing Angelina into your father's arms. Closing it delicately, Constanza turns to you, holding out the package for you to take. Before she lets go of the box, she pulls it back towards her. "Be careful with this. This is for a Madrigal." She gives you that look, the one that advised you that if you messed something up, she would mess you up. You nod nervously and take hold of it as she withdraws her hands off the box, leaving the responsibility up to you now.

"Imagine if you dropped that." Diego says jokingly, patting your dad's bald head like a pair of bongos. Your dad grunts, shooing him away. "Boy, don't even play like that." Your mother says as she glares at him, Diego immediately shutting up as she does. She sighs, grabbing your face and kissing your cheek once again. "Be safe, mí hijo. And don't, I repeat, don't let anything happen to this dress." She emphasized, tapping the top of the box. "Nothing will happen, Mama, I promise." You reassure her with a smile. "You better." Your mother warns you once more before turning back to what she was doing, performing a little dance with her hips and uttering a song to herself. "Era la piragua, era la piragua..."