Confession

234 7 0
                                    

Part 2 of @Nezu_is_a_rat_god

This is also fem, but I'll have more gender-neutral and masc stories in the future. Sorry this is late I was lazy and with family. And this is pretty short.



Me and Mirabel were sitting in the nursery, aka, Mirabel's room. We were making y/n clothes, such as La Pollera Colora. "Dolores, Mirabel! Come back down to the kitchen, please!"

I walked out of the room, Mirabel following close by, putting the clothing into a pretty bag. We both walked down the casa's stairs and into the kitchen.

"Good evening. ¿Cómo estás? I've finished making the arepas and cookies for both of you! Oh, I hope it'll be a great festa. ¡Adiós!" Julieta handed us the box of food.

"Hey, Dolores?"
"Yes?" Dolores squeaked. "Are you ready? We're almost at her house."
"I'm as ready as I'll ever be!"

Before we started making the dress Mirabel teached me how to confess. So I was all ready.

I wonder if we and y/n would even get married. What would the wedding be like. I know I would wear my Mamá's dress.

But, I know I shouldn't worry about any of those things, hell, I don't even know if she likes me so!

Dolores chuckled.

Your POV:

You were in your name, reading one of your favorite books.

You look through the window to see Dolores and Mirabel.

"Huh?"

Mirabel and I made eye contact. She put something behind her back to quickly for me to see what it was.

Knock, knock!

I opened the door to see, Dolores in beautiful, beautiful dress!

"I uhm... I love you!!" Dolores face instantly came red, and so did mine.

My jaw dropped.

"Lov- love me?!"

Dolores was actually confessing to me?!

The only thing that could come out was...

"Of course! ¡¡Te quiero mucho, Dolores!!"

Dolores handed me the baked goods and the beautiful dress.

Dolores and me kissed eachother.

Just Dolores and me, forever together...








Just Dolores and me, forever together

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Dolores MadrigalWhere stories live. Discover now