In the last effort to be herself within a handful of days with small actions. Isabela has sent her wonderful bouquets of flowers to the potter she has admired for a time, anonymously of course. Hoping that it will blossom into something more despite...
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𝓑𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓣𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓓𝓪𝔂 ✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･*
Apparently, what the gentle yet manly Guzman had said was more than true. There are in fact a lot that awaited them during the day, and even the days after that. Now, what was once broken with wounds and cracks and were patched up from the inside had new foundations despite being imperfect, right after its fall.
Indeed both La Casita and the family that lives in the magical abode are being tackled in this sense. After the failed proposal dinner, Isabela stomped her way up the house and had a sigh of both relief and disappointment as she set foot in her chamber. She had been mentally readying herself with what's about to come after the dinner and yet the awaited proposal was stretched, then halted, then discontinued. It was as if time slowed down for her as Mariano went down on his knee, a boxed ring in his hand, elegant practiced phrases out his mouth. But the reduction of speed wasn't one that was comfortable and warm like when you apparently see your "true love" the first time. No, the slowing was anxiety inducing, it was nauseating for her, yet it can't be helped as all she could do was to stretch a mock-up smile as she had rehearsed.
Then all her worries disappeared when she was struck with the realization that she can be imperfect as her sister changed her perspective. She can be her to the fullest, that she has the ability to blossom and flourish whatsoever greenery that she wishes, she can be Isabela Madrigal, free of unsolicited judgment, upkept standards, growing pressure, and crushing expectations.
Her family has been through a lot, they've suffered from many rough patches, turbulent hurricanes, vociferous opinions, scratches, gashes, and even bee stings. The hill Isabela thought she would have to trudge on her own as she tolerates being wed and enduring pregnancy, was far from that. Seemingly, it was a hill that the whole family had to go through, where the household was being led by none other than her sister.
Oh, how proud she was of Mirabel. She accepted that she wasn't the best sister, she had almost forgotten how sweet her relationship with her was back then, how snuggly and warm the hugs between them were shared. For this she apologized to Mirabel, looking down at the grass as the Casita was still being reconstructed, not expecting another warm embrace, sweeter and more affectionate than the last. She had also accepted that she herself and her family were adorned with flaws, flaws that will only knit them together tighter.
Here she is now, standing on new sidewalks but old soil and land, in new clothing but same skin, freckles, and blemishes, new plants and flowers blooming at one flick of her hand but the same, old Isabela Madrigal. Shockingly for her with the new found courage she had, she explained to Mirabel what had happened the past few days, all down from the lemon-colored daisies, cheesy letters, and you.
"Wait, so you like Y/n?" Mirabel clarified, rather than look confused, she had a proud grin stretched on her face, a hand on her hip. "You think I wouldn't notice?"
