A Slow Burning Candle *Main story completed, additional scenes to be added*

Chapter 12: Flowers

The second time they met, things were easier; conversation flowed from the start and when it was time to leave, he walked her out again. For the third meeting, Bruno had brought the coffee and Luz had spent the stipend she'd received that week on making a batch of her mother's pandebonos. Things kept on developing from there, week after week.

Every time they met, they sat in the garden, in full view of anyone who wanted to walk by. Keeping on their respective side of the table, they discussed their childhoods, the village, and a host of other topics. But then, there was the literature.

Both were well read. Luz from her education and her parent's encouragement, and Bruno from his time apart from the family and the community. Ever since he'd withdrawn and began keeping himself to his room, she'd found out that he had decided to read and, interestingly enough, train the rats that he found around the house.

Book characters had a wide range of animal companions - if he couldn't find friends in the Encanto, he could make them.

At first, she was a bit off put by the notion, rats were generally discouraged - a funny memory of her mother chasing one with a broom was her best frame of reference, but he brought one, once or twice, to show her.

It rode, almost comically, on his shoulder. She was reminded of the children who trained their pet chinchillas to tag along with them. When he told the rat to bring Luz a sugar cube for her coffee, she was less than thrilled to accept, but did so in the spirit of trying new things. In fairness, she had seen it wash its paws first.

"What's its name?" She inquired.

"Don Quixote."

Laughing, she reached out to pet the little fellow, "Is he always tilting at windmills then?" The rat leaned into it, letting her scratch behind his ears.

"No, it just seemed more dramatic." He watched Luz and his pet interact.

"I do not, for a minute, believe that you would want more drama in your life."

Sitting back in his chair, he brought his cup to his lips, "You'd be surprised. I always thought I'd be a good actor, if I hadn't gotten sidetracked by the whole cursed prophet thing."

"Contained drama then?"

He nodded, "Contained sounds the best these days."

Luz leaned in a bit, "Have you read Don Juan Tenorio? The play?"

"Yes!" He sat forward.

"I have a funny story for you then." She clapped her hands, excited to tell him, "Mi primera escuela was an all girl's school, and the monjas used to make us perform it every All Saints Day. Well, some of us had to be the men, right?"

"Yeah?" He put down his cup, crossing his arms on the table.

"My friend Josefa was playing doña Inés, and you know how the hourglass is there in the tomb at the end before she shows up?"

Bruno nodded, he'd never gotten to see the play performed, but he had a copy with enough stage instructions to keep up with her.

"Well, she comes up through the tomb, not like she is supposed to, and I'm playing Don Juan. I'm down on my knees, begging for mercy and she knocks the hourglass onto my head, and I fall on my face on the stage."

As she spoke, her actions became more and more animated, recalling the tale, "My head was killing me, and I forgot my lines, so she grabs me, and flips me over and gives me a big dramatic kiss and says, there, I have redeemed him! And she drags me off stage, tripping over her gown the entire way."