Harana: Camilo x Reader

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

† 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌: cursing, self-harm

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲-𝐎𝐧𝐞: 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭

♫

     The fairytale was over, it was time for reality. They both knew that after the sobering moment led by the kiss' aftermath. The skitterish antics, the averted gazes. She waited the entire night— but he didn't ask her to be his. 

     And now alone in her apartment with her bare sore feet, she stared at the ceiling and felt the self-doubt seep under her skin. The icky feelings sticking, ripping, and searing. And finally, she heard the voice loud and clear.

     Ruined Friendship.

      Soon, she felt it crawl on her wrist. Coming into a form of spidery sensations. Frustrated, she scratched the spot till it was red and tender. It wasn't enough; she wasn't enough. Never was, and never will. Everything she worked hard for— her tawdry apartment. It was her all and it was nothing special. It suits her perfectly, barely average.

     Her nails pricked the surface causing a small drop of blood to ooze. The sound of her billowing thin curtains had her head lolling. What did she expect? She was undesirable in the Philippines so why did she think it would be different in here? 

     She abruptly turned to the mirror on the other side of the room and her world dimmed when the colors seemed to fade. 

     Days passed by with a blink, the sun goes down and the moon goes up, the cycle goes on. She had stopped going to work, whispering excuses about how her chest felt too heavy. If anything, she would beat herself up for letting her time go to waste; that she was overreacting. Yes, that's right. She's a crybaby stuck in a pity party— an ungrateful brat, an undeserving idiot.

     But her mundane routine for the week went haywire when the incessant knocking woke her blank mind. She contemplated whether to ignore the person outside or to answer the door; ultimately, she peeled herself off her loveseat turned bed. Dragging her feet on the floor, she opened the door and was genuinely surprise at who she saw next.

     Leonora stood there with an awfully cheery grin on her face. Great, exactly the person she wanted to see. Y/N blew her bangs away from her eyes before asking cooly, "Why are you here?" Leonora's smile faltered for a second, now coming out as more unsure than optimistic. "I was- I saw this shoes in the market and they reminded me of you."

     She pulled out a pair of mary jane shoes, awfully similar to the ones Y/N donned during her younger days. The amount of times she had to stomp the sizzling cigarette with them had worn down its soles. Like burning rubber, it was dizzying. "How thoughtful." She managed to say through gritted teeth.

     Hesitantly accepting the gift, she was about to close the door when Leonora spoke up. "Actually, I want to... chat with you." Y/N's knuckles protruded when her fingers dug on the shoe's material. "No, I want to tell you something." Leonora looked to the side as she utter this.

    "I just want to say that I love you." And it stung. The very thing Y/N had waited to hear in Leonora's voice for such a long time. It finally came and instead of it magically fixing everything. It felt cruel. Why did it take her so long?

     Fiction had lied to her, that a grand gesture was all you need to patch the broken pieces. But this was her reality and it taught her that there will always be a day after happy ever afters. "Leave." She glowered harshly. Leonora looked distraught; her eyes turned glassy almost.

     "Iha-" Like snapping rubberbands, Y/N threw the shoes before yelling, "Don't you ever call me that!" Her vocals turning coarse, she wastipping at her pressure point. Leonora stepped back but Y/N didn't let the distance grow, "You are not my mother, alright?" She was more than ready to tore her apart.

    "Y/N, please, I know I hadn't been there for you but-"

     Balling her fists, Y/N landed blows on her head as she cried, "I fucking hate you!" Leonora's face blurred and Y/N swore that she saw herself instead. She stumbled back in before slamming the door closed. Leonora tried to step in, concerned for her daughter. But she was too late, she heard the locks click from the other side.

     Leonora dropped her hand, the worry bubbled in her. She picked up the shoes before leaving, subtly wiping her tears as she accepted defeat. She failed once again.

     Staggering to the kitchen, Y/N was frantically opening the cabinets. On one of them, she spotted the red bottle of wine gifted to her. She was divided but the side that whispered sweet promises of a quick high won her over. "Fuck it."