The Heart of Camilo (A Camilo Madrigal x Reader Fem Y/N Story)

The Past

*Y/N*

I ran out of the house and right into Mirabel, who grabbed me, panicked, seeing how upset I was.

"Y/N! What's wrong?!" she asked frantically.

"I have to go," I said, tears pouring down my face. "I have to get out of here!" I cried, louder, hearing the panic in my voice and knowing I was scaring the hell out of her because her eyes grew so wide I thought she would burst into tears.

"What's going on?" Isabela was coming up the path. "What happened?"

"Please, just let me go, just let me go," I begged Mirabel, pulling against her hold on my arm, not able to contain the sobs. I couldn't get the image out of my mind - my father throwing things across the room, Camilo throwing the mug across the room - like it was a disturbing loop in my head. I could barely breathe.

"Y/N, just talk to me, you're scaring me! What happened? Where's Camilo?" Mirabel was practically shaking me. I released a jet of water from my hands at her feet, which caused her to slip and fall, releasing my arm, and I ran. I knew the second she got up she could catch me in a millisecond, so I just prayed she would let me go, and she did.

I ran the entire way home, gasping for breath as I opened and closed the door, grateful that Maria and Diego were still at the party and I wouldn't need to explain myself yet. I went to my room and sat on the bed, not sure what do, wishing I could rip the images and thoughts that were swirling around straight out of my head. I wanted to feel nothing, see nothing, but there was no escape.

I heard the front door open and close and cringed, thinking it was Mirabel, but Diego appeared at the door. He didn't say a word, just crossed the room, sat down with me and hugged me fiercely. I sobbed and sobbed and he held on tight, eventually beginning to cry along with me, somehow knowing whatever had happened ultimately came back to our mother's death. It was at least some comfort knowing there was one other person as lost and confused as I was.

***

I woke up to sunlight shining through the window, wincing at the headache that pounded at my temples. I sat up, noticing Diego on the floor beside my bed. He had pulled down one of my extra pillows and blankets. I almost started to cry all over again. I got out of bed and shook him awake gently.

"I can't believe you stayed here all night," I said, smiling at him. "Your back will be so messed up."

He laughed. "I'm young, I'll survive. I didn't want you to be alone."

I held out a hand to pull him up. "Let's eat something."

We walked out to the kitchen. Maria still wasn't awake, probably exhausted from the party and being out late. Diego helped me make a quick breakfast of eggs and some vegetables and we sat down, slowly eating, a thoughtful silence hanging between us.

"Do you ... want to hear more about our mom?" he asked.

"I do," I said, "if you feel ready to talk about her."

He closed his eyes and winced slightly, as if recalling something unpleasant. "It's so hard sometimes. I hate her so much and miss her at the same time. It makes me feel like I'm insane."

"Yeah, I've been feeling like that a lot myself," I said, smiling reassuringly. 

He smiled back. "One of my earliest memories is her and my papa at that waterfall, the one you guys came to. We travelled a lot as I got older, but we spent most of my childhood there."

I thought of that waterfall, remembering how beautiful it was, wondering what it was like to call that place home.

"My whole childhood, I was so stressed about gifts," he said. "When I turned five and mine came, it was the scariest day of my life, but my parents were so excited when they realized what it was, that I could get gifts of any kind being a siphon. Of course, that was before we realized what else I could do."