Beautiful Bruises ~ Camilo Madrigal x Reader

Something Isn't Right

You looked around Camilo's giant room, your eyes wide open. You couldn't decide if it was creepy or amazing.

Life-sized replicas of people from the village were placed around the room, unmoving, as if frozen in time. They had all of the colors and everything - they weren't made out of stone, but you couldn't quite tell what it was.

"If you're wondering what they're made out of, I don't know either," Camilo said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Every time I shape-shift into someone new, they show up in here."

Your eye catches on one person in particular, and you walk over to your friend Lucía, patting her on the shoulder. But when you look into her reflective green eyes, you leap back, confused. 

They showed her family laying in the middle of a field, covered in blood. They were clearly dead. You waved your hand in front of her eyes, but they still showed the same thing.

"Scary, right?" Camilo murmured in your ear in a rough, teasing voice, making you jump. "I've figured it out. Their eyes reflect their deepest fear." He turned to look at you, his gaze softening when he saw your expression. "Most of them aren't that bad - just spiders or dark rooms. Wait, there's a funny one over here!" he cried enthusiastically, grabbing your hand and pulling you over to a middle-aged man. You peered into his eyes only to burst out laughing.

"He's afraid of Luisa? I mean, who isn't, but his deepest fear... this guy is priceless," you said with a smile, staring at the buff girl reflected in his eyes. When you turn to look at Camilo, he's staring at you and doesn't bother to look away. You grow red, looking down, and he takes his thumb and tilts your chin up, his smile growing.

"You look pretty when you don't think anyone's watching," he said, searching your eyes for something you couldn't put your finger on. "When you don't care what you look like."

You can't break eye contact - his gaze is electrifying, sending shivers down your spine.

"You're always pretty," you mumble, trying to lighten the mood, and he chuckles before growing serious. 

"It was your father, wasn't it?"

"Dios mio, Camilo," you groan, spinning away from him. Way to ruin the moment.

"Come on, just tell me. We could send him back over the mountains, and you could live here, with me. There's only so many people it could be - I saw that it was a man. Your tío, your brother, your father - just tell me who it was and I can help you." He's pleading now, using puppy-dog eyes to convince you, but you face away from him.

Your eyes widen when he grabs both sides of your waist, spinning you around to face him. You try to wiggle free, but he doesn't let go, keeping you flush against his chest. A singular curl falls into your face, tickling your cheek.

He gazes down at you, moving one hand from your hips to your cheek.

"Tell me, Cariño."

Your heart was racing, and you knew he could feel it through your shirt. He was breathing hard, but refused to let you go. You realized you didn't want him to. His thumb stroked your face gently, and then his eyes widened. You quickly tried to step away when you realized he had wiped the concealer off of the bruise.

"(Y/N)!" he shouted, gripping your waist tighter to keep you from leaving. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Now his eyes were just sad as he stared down at your bruise. You quickly lowered your head, hiding it from him.

"Stay here," he murmured, taking another long look at your face. "And when I say stay, I mean stay. No running off."

Before you could ask where he was going, he had raced out the door.

You sighed, sitting down on the hardwood floor. Where did he sleep?

When you looked up, you spotted a large door against the back wall, mostly hidden behind a replica of Felix, Camilo's papa. You approached it, carefully opening the door without making any noise.

Inside was a small room, containing nothing but a queen bed, a pretty yellow color, and a dresser with some pictures on it. You peered down at them, though they were barely visible in the dim lighting.

One was him and Mirabel, probably from a few years ago, standing by the stream in swim-suits. They were both wearing snorkels and giving the camera-man a thumbs-up. Another was him with his two siblings, when Antonio was just a baby. Camilo looked tiny, his smile taking up half his face and his curly hair almost bigger than his head. Delores was probably about sixteen, a grimace on her face, most likely because someone was making a loud noise.

Before you had time to look at any of the others, Camilo was back. You spun around to see him raising a singular eyebrow at you.

"Bit of a snoop, don't you think?"

"Well you're a thief," you retorted, walking over to him. "Why'd you mysteriously disappear?"

"All heroes do at some point," he teased, before handing you an arepa con queso.

You raised your eyebrows at him.

"Wow. Big deal. I'm so glad you took the time out of your day to grab me this."

"Night, actually," he corrected, before taking your hand with the arepa con queso and raising it to your mouth. "It's Julieta's. It should heal your bruise."

"Oh," you mumbled, suddenly grateful. "Thanks, really." You ate it quickly, then waited eagerly for the bruise to fade. But about a minute later, when you raised your hand to your eye, it still ached when it was touched.

"I don't understand," Camilo murmured, brushing it with his thumb. "Let me go get another one - maybe Julieta didn't make it?" He raced off and returned with another one, which you also ate.

Nothing happened.

"What the..." Camilo's eyes narrowed as he leaned in to stare at your bruise again. He raised his finger and swiped at it.

"Ah!" you hissed, smacking his hand away and covering your eye. "What the heck? There's no way that was an accident."

Camilo rushed forward, his eyes wide.

"I'm so sorry, (Y/N)... I just thought..."

"What?" you snapped, removing your hand. "That it was fake? Sometimes I wonder if you really do care about me or not." You started for his door, but he placed his hand out your shoulder, gently spinning you around.

"Of course I care about you, (Y/N)," he said angrily. "I'm trying to help you! And that was wrong of me. I believed you, it's just... my Tía's food never fails. Ever. Something isn't right."

You looked up at him, suddenly afraid.

"Camilo, what's wrong with me?"