Make You Smile (Camilo Madrigal x Reader)

Forty-Four

"Good," she said, giving you a half-hearted smile. "I'll be back in a bit. Just running up to the store." You could hear the slightest hesitation before she said 'store'. It was practically unnoticeable, but as if you were Dolores, you noticed it. "See you, má."

---

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The ceaseless sound of the clock above your head grew louder with every second you waited. You were always eager to get to that bridge, excitement raining on you at all times, almost as if you had secret double-life. Well, you practically did.

At the same time, you didn't want to miss your nightly meeting with Camilo. You liked talking to him. While he had his maddening charisma as a front, he was quite profound under the surface, and you felt trusted as he began opening up to you. 

It wasn't anything crazy, but still. You enjoyed this side of him.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick.

The sound of that last tick caught your attention.

Time to go.

You sprung out of the criss-cross position you seated yourself in on your bed, creeping your way to the top of the stairs. 

You had been using the technique you used back at home to make your way down unnoticed - sliding down the railing. You had yet to fall or to have woken up Gabriel by using this technique, and most importantly, you hadn't yet been caught by your mother.

As you stealthily made your way to the front door, you noticed something different.

Your mothers bag was situated on the kitchen table. 

Most of the time, she hangs it up on the coat rack that was nailed to the wall next to the door. You were going to put it back to where it normally resides, until abruptly stopping before getting your hands on it.

She would notice something is different, you thought to yourself. You did everything in your power to leave and re-enter the house unseen, even the smallest slip-up was something you wanted to avoid. 

So, that was that. You were going leave it alone.

Sure enough, your eye caught a glisten in your mothers bag. After this mornings string of questions, curiosity had been looming over you like a dark cloud. You had never felt distrust with your mother, and you did not snoop.

But...

As if it were some concealed force, you were pulled towards your mothers bag like a magnet. You delicately reached in, swirling through the fabric, feeling for that glistening object. You latched onto the faint light that seeped through the opening. 

What are you hiding, má?

The suspense was drowning. You heart pounded faster. You held your breath as you pulled out whatever was in that bag.

...Keys.

You let out the breath you were holding in relief. 

Paranoid from this morning, I guess, you affirmed yourself as you carefully set the keys back in their original position.

This must be the new set of keys for the house. You had gotten used to the inn key, therefore this set was unfamiliar to you.

You took another breath before quietly opening the front door, making your way out onto the streets.

--------

Camilo's hair bounced as he looked up from the grass, recognizing the sound of your footsteps. He gave you a wave and a light smile before you caught up next to him.

As you sat down, he examined your face, cocking his head to the side. "You look like you've seen a ghost, sinsonte."

Your eyes flickered in a blinking fit, confused by this callout. You assumed from his observation that you were still shaken up by the appearance of the keys.

You didn't want to have to explain the details of this morning without knowing if it was even worth discussing. Everyone already had too much on their minds. Plus, you knew that if Camilo found out you were that stunned over keys, you would never hear the end of it.

"Hm, maybe I have..." you said eerily, wiggling your fingers at his face.

"Are scary stories the topic for tonight?" Camilo said through a chuckle, "Because I've got a few."

"Oh yeah?" You questioned him, curious as to what over-dramatic story he was thinking up. That's usually how it went.

"Oh yeah," he said, repeating your words. "It was just last week, actually. I saw this girl, someone I've never seen before... she was tracing the lines-"

You cut Camilo off by giving him a hard nudge in the shoulder.

"Oh come on, I'm never going to hear the end of that, am I?" you said to him, crossing your arms.

"Nope." He replied by crossing his arms as well, mimicking you. You both shared a laugh.

"Surely, you've grown to love me," you said sarcastically, batting your eyelashes. Before you said your next words, you could see a hint of pink slowly, but surely, creep onto his cheeks.

You've never made him blush before.

You continued on. "So it's almost like that... never even happened!" You moved your fingers in a flutter, doing a slow reveal of your face.

Camilo hid his face for a split moment, waiting for the pink to slip away from his cheeks before turning to look at you.

"Although what you did was suuuuper embarrassing," he unnecessarily added, your face hardening, "I'm glad it happened. Who knows when we would have met if it wasn't for that?"

Your expression softened. The air was contented and at ease. "I guess you're right," you replied.

He playfully scoffed. "Of course I am."

Just as you were rolling your eyes, you heard the bounding of familiar footsteps coming in your direction. Mirabel had made her arrival.

"Nice of you to finally join us, Mira," he said satirically. She furrowed her eyebrows at him.

"You always insist on leaving before I do Camilo," she said in response, "even when I want to go with you." She had clearly said that out of spite, knowing it was something he wouldn't have wanted you to know, simply out of sheer embarrassment.

You gave a side-smile as Camilo lowered his head in an inner panic.

"Anyways," she started up again, "I found something on my way here!" 

You and Camilo gave each other a glance before focusing your eyes to Mirabel. It had been days, and any bit of evidence was exciting, no matter how small. You stood up and rushed over to her on top of the bridge, watching as she unfolded a piece of paper.

There was not much writing. Actually, there weren't even any words. It was simply a number. One, out of place number.

44.