Beautiful Bruises ~ Camilo Madrigal x Reader

One More Chance

You were laughing at your friend Lucía as she mimicked her boyfriend Carlos, running her hands through her long black hair and taking on a serious expression.

"Why of course, mi amor - I told her I have a girlfriend right away! But you know how popular I am with the ladies... you're quite lucky, you know."

You giggled harder, rolling over onto your side in the grass. The two of you were sitting in a field full of daisies, the sun dipping lower in the sky as you spoke.

The sun dipping lower in the sky...

"Dios mío!" you cried, jumping up from where you sat. "I'm going to be late! Gotta go, Lucía... see you later!"

You ran off in your bare feet, Lucía staring after you in confusion. Of course - she didn't understand how your papa got.

By the time you got back, it was surely past supper. You slunk inside nervously, head hung. When you made it to the dining room, you saw your brother, Jude, and your papa eating stew in silence.

"I'm here," you said softly, rubbing your arm nervously as your papa stood up slowly. You were supposed to make supper every night, since Jude and Papa were out working as carpenters and wanted to come home to food on the table.

"Not on time," your papa said, his voice low and menacing.

"I know, Papa," you mumbled. "I'm sorry, I lost track of time. I didn't mean to - I promise I'll do better."

"You said that last week," he growled, turning and stepping towards you, raising his hand.

"Papa!" Jude said angrily, grabbing his arm. "It's not a big deal, really. It's been a long day. Let's just go to bed."

You crossed your fingers behind your back, staring at the floor and refusing to meet his eyes.

Please please please please-

"Fine," he said after a few tense moments. "But no supper for you, (Y/N). Go to sleep. Now."

You nodded and quickly raced up the stairs, ignoring your growling stomach. That could wait until tomorrow morning.

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Time skip - next morning

As soon as you woke up, you hopped out of bed and got into the pleated dress you wore when you went into the market. You smoothed it out before going downstairs and grabbing an apple, crunching into it and going to feed the chickens once your boots were on.

Your papa and Jude were already off in their work building in the village, so you sang as you collected the eggs and sprinkled feed for them.

They clucked at you as they scrambled around your feet in a desperate attempt to get the scraps.

"Patience, you monsters," you scolded before walking out of the pen and heading into the barn to feed and water the cow and horse.

Finally, you were able to pack a few egg cartons and milk pails in a basket before hauling it into town, your arms aching by the time you eventually plopped it onto your stall about 5 minutes later.

As the morning progressed, more people arrived in town, carrying baskets full of goods, both to sell and that had just been bought.

By 3:00, the sun was scorching down on you. You were just starting to doze off as you leaned against your wooden stall when a small, scruffy-looking boy approached you.

He might have been about 7 or 8, his wide brown eyes innocent and clear. However, he was dirty and thin, probably malnourished.

"Could I have some milk?" he asked nervously, peering over the edge at one of the pails. You sighed, debating. Surely your papa wouldn't be happy, but the poor boy was hungry. In the end, your conscience won out.

"Here," you said, handing him one of the bigger ones. "Don't drink it too fast."

He grinned happily at you before running off, his bare feet kicking up clouds of dust. You followed him with your eyes to make sure he didn't try to sell it to someone else as he ran. However, something even more shocking happened.

Right before your eye, he transformed into a teenage boy with curly dark-brown hair and a yellow rauna over his shoulders. With a gasp, you realized who this must be.

"Oh, no you don't," you mumbled angrily, and began to chase after him. When he realized what was happening, he laughed and began running faster. Stumbling over the hem of your dress, you finally admitted defeat and began walking back towards your stall, only to get even angrier.

You returned home that night minus a pail of milk and carton of eggs.

As you set the table for supper, your papa and Jude walked in.

"Here's the money, Papa," you said, trying not to let your hands shake as you dropped the coins into his hand and hurriedly went back to readying the table. You closed her eyes and swallowed hard when you heard him head down to the cellar to check the amount of food remaining.

"Care to explain yourself?" he asked when he came back up the stairs just as you were sitting down. You took a deep breath.

"Papa, I'm sorry, but somebody tricked me and stole today and-"

"I don't want to hear it," he spit, walking over. "You know what happens when you mess up. Hands out, daughter."

"But, Papa-" you started, and he glared at you until you slowly put your hands flat on the table, palms down.

"Papa," Jude said quickly when he saw him go for the Willow-stick whip. "I'm sure it was just a mistake. Give her another chance."

"I did yesterday," he responded harshly, raising the whip.

"Papa!" Jude cried. "One more chance! That's it! You can't punish her every time."

He paused, angrily sighing before returning the whip to where it hung on the wall.

"One more chance, daughter. That's all you've got. One. More. Chance."