Camilo x Reader -Broken Reflection

Chapter 8 (Meet me on the balcony)

Y/N's POV (first person POV)

There was always work to be done. The Madrigals with gifts often took jobs to make some extra coin. I often tagged along with Mirabel as she did some work of her own, babysitting children and cooking for families when caregivers had too much on their plates. After helping her mother so often, Mirabel was almost as good at making food as her.

I found myself having to leave the room whenever she cooked- my stomach had a mind of its own and followed my nose. Weeks passed quickly but I was never bored. I got to know the villagers while I followed Mirabel. Occasionally Camilo and Antonio would tag along with us but I always found a way to avoid the shapeshifter.

Eventually, I started taking on jobs of my own- I babysat sometimes but also found work at the dressmaker shop. The owner, Mr. Muñoz had seen me in the clothes I'd come to the town in, asking how I came by them. When I explained that I made them along with the help of my aunt, he offered me a part-time job. I couldn't believe my luck. He'd also taught me more about clothing and gave me sewing lessons.

After long days of helping the Madrigals and working, I'd retire in Maribel's room for the night. Sometimes we'd be too tired from the day to say much to each other, and some nights we'd stay up late and talk about whatever was on our minds. Maribel was an easy person to talk to and she gave the best advice and listened when all I wanted was to be heard. She never judged me, not even when I started to open up more about my past.

I wondered how she was still so accepting, but every day she'd wake up and flash me the same friendly smile, calling me "sleepy-head" and linking her arm around mine as we walked to the breakfast table. I could tell that she valued our friendship just as much as I did.

"It just feels nice to talk to someone who's... normal like me," She said once as we laid awake in her room. She was lying in her bed and I was on my cot. We both stared up at the ceiling as we spoke.

"Normal?" I'd asked. I heard her sheets rustle as she shifted to look at me from the edge of her bed.

"Yeah," She said. "Without a gift, I mean. Even if my family says that they don't care about me not having a gift... sometimes I feel left out. I know they don't mean it but..."

"It's hard to fit in," I finished for her. I saw her nod in the moonlight.

"Exactly," She replied.

Some nights I'd wake up and wander the house, thinking of home. The first time I rose at night, the house was completely quiet. I heard the sound of the stairs creaking as I made my way down them. I heard the soft sound of my feet as I padded through the house, stopping briefly to look out of windows or run my hands over the smooth wood of the glowing bedroom doors. No matter how many times I looked or touched them, I never got used to how beautiful they were. And then I found a door. I'd never seen it when I'd walked around the house so many times before.

I opened it slowly, wishing that the hinges didn't creak as loudly as they did. I stepped inside, marveling at the view in front of me. There was a large window that faced the back of the house. The room itself was empty except for a wooden table to the side of the room with a small dusty mirror leaning against it. I made my way to the window, running my fingers over the walls and looking out to the moon. It was bright white and a half crescent. I stepped outside through a wooden door and onto the balcony that jutted out no more than a few feet from the house. It stretched out to be around six feet wide. I leaned against the railing, feeling the late-night breeze brush against my skin. I breathed in the fresh air. It smelled so much fresher than usual. And the stars- they lit up the dark blue sky, twinkling brighter than they ever had before.