Por amor al arte (Julieta x F!Reader)

Part 14

You jumped and almost knocked over the mug you were painting when the door to your workshop was flung open. You turned to see a very grumpy Mirabel looking at you with her arms crossed and a pout that made her look too much like a younger version of her mother.

"Mirabel?" you asked carefully, you didn't know if she was upset with you after all.

The girl let out a frustrated sigh and she closed the door behind herself before walking over to you and plopping down on the bench next to you, leaning her head against the wall.

"Okay" she murmured "Work your magic"

You blinked confused and a little surprised by the girl's attitude. Mirabel was usually sweet and lively and seeing her this upset just made you worry. But her words made no sense in your mind. What was she talking about? You didn't have any magic.

"Excuse me?" you asked

"My two sisters have had an afternoon with you that changed their lives. You sang to them. It's my turn"

You couldn't help but smile a little at the idea that you had done something to, although you wouldn't say change the lives of Isabela and Luisa, at least help them a little.

"I don't think I've done much" you said

"No, no, no. You can't give me the speech of 'you've always had it inside yourself'" she said rolling her eyes "come on Y/N, the candle already left me without a gift, you can't leave me without a song too"

This time you couldn't help but laugh. You always knew it, but right now it was especially obvious that Mirabel was, in fact, a child. And look, the truth was that you had helped Isabela and Luisa only after they had both shared their worries with you, so if the girl with glasses wanted your help, she had to give you something to work with too.

Mirabel frowned when you got up without saying anything and simply headed to your supplies room (she knew that was because she and Camilo had explored it while they still lived with you. It made her feel a little guilty, but they hadn't touched anything!). Her confusion only increased when you pulled out an easel and a blank canvas and placed them in front of her.

You didn't say anything to her, but you had a brief deja vu when she took the brush you offered her, just as Julieta had done, despite saying that she didn't know how to paint. The girl watched you as you returned to your spot and with a defeated sigh she focused on the white sheet in front of her. She didn't understand your methods or why you couldn't just sing her out of it, but she had promised Luisa and Isabela that she would at least try to spend time with you, for her mom's sake.

You saw out of the corner of your eye how the girl waved her hand several times towards the paint cans, undecided on a color. She looked a bit frustrated, but you knew you couldn't interfere. She had to do this on her own.

Mirabel finally grabbed some pink paint and gave a few strokes without thinking. She felt frustrated and angry at you for not talking to her, at her sisters for forcing her to do this, at her mother for falling in love with you. But she was especially mad at herself because deep down, she wasn't really mad at any of you and she felt like a bad daughter. She didn't even notice when tears began to well up in her eyes but she couldn't stop them.

You looked at her worriedly before carefully wrapping an arm around her, giving her time and space to back away, but the girl just turned and buried her face in your chest. She wasn't even sure why, but you were warm and the only thing she had to hold on to at the moment.

"I miss him so much" she sobbed "And I know I'm a bad daughter and a lousy sister, I know I'm selfish but I just can't let him go...I try but I can't"

"Shhh, it's okay, it's okay" you whispered, stroking her hair "You're not a bad daughter or sister, Mirabel. You are a girl who still needed her father and there is nothing wrong with crying for him "

"But it hurts a lot" the girl said in a choked breath "And Abuela and tío Bruno say that I can't stay in the past, because I might end up hurting others...but how am I supposed to leave him behind? Going on feels like I'm forgetting him."

How were you supposed to answer that? She was a child! A scared girl and you didn't know what to do. You wanted to assure her that everything would be fine, but the words didn't reach you, you felt on a tightrope with her.

"I'm scared Y/N" she told you "There are times when I can hardly remember his voice anymore"

That broke your heart. You knew how painful it could be to realize that no matter how hard you tried, you were beginning to forget the people you loved so much. It was the nature of human memory, but it didn't make it hurt any less.

"How did you get over your son?" Mirabel asked.

You froze for a moment and the girl in your arms immediately regretted her words. She was going to apologize but when she looked at your face, she didn't see any anger, but a sad smile and an old longing in your eyes. Everything always came back to Aharhel, right?

"I miss him every day, Mira" you told her honestly "It hurts so much to see Eliza grow up, to see her change day by day while my boy always stays the same in my memory...and it hurts even more that his face begins to blur every time "

"And how do you get rid of the pain?" she asked you

"You don't," you admitted, "you just learn to live with it until the thought of them stops hurting so much."

Mirabel looked at the ground a little disappointed. You wish you could help her more, give her an infallible formula to get rid of her sadness and pain, but that didn't exist and as much as you loved her, this was something you couldn't do for her. Though that didn't mean you couldn't at least give her a salve while the wound healed.

"How about that song you wanted?" you asked softly

The girl thought about it for a bit, nodding slowly. She supposed this was as good a time as any for it, right?

"I will miss you, rest assured, there were so many beautiful and bad moments that we lived together. The little things, what seemed unimportant, are the ones that invade my mind the most when I remember you" you sang softly. Curiously, this was not a song that you wrote, but that your parents had taught you "It is so hard to understand that you are not here and resign myself to accept reality. I would love it to be a dream and wake up. I wish I could turn back time, to see you again, to give you a hug, and never let go. But I understand that your time has come, but I never thought it would hurt so much, there is no turning back, you left a great void here. But today I understood"

The images of all the things her father had done for her, the times he had supported her, the adorably creative ways he found to hurt himself, all came back to her, and she couldn't help but smile as she remembered how much he had loved her, her sisters and her mother.

"One day I will see you. You are only sleeping I know, one day I will see you, and no more goodbyes this time. I will recognize you, I will hug you and on your neck I know I will cry. You will look at me and tell me: don't cry for me anymore, I want you to be happy, that things go well for you and when it's your turn to leave I hope to see you here"

Mirabel didn't move from your chest when you finished, letting the words stick in her mind. It was a comforting thought that she might see her father again one day.

"You really think that?" she asked you "... that we will see them again?"

"...it's what I'm holding on to" you admitted.

The girl nodded and hugged you a little longer before pulling away and wiping her tears away.

"Thank you" she smiled at you

"You're welcome"

The girl glanced at the pink-stained canvas and a familiar figure suddenly appeared before her eyes. Daddy's flower. She knew in that instant what she had to paint.

__________________

"So tomorrow at 4" Mirabel smiled at you "If you don't arrive on time I'll tell Antonio to send Parce for you"

"Okay" you laughed "I'll be there on time" you promised.

She nodded and turned to leave, she carried her painting still fresh with care not to stain it. In the end, she had painted her father's flower coming out of a mortar that had jacarandas as decorations. Luisa's weights adorned the background and a blue butterfly flew near the flower. It was a painting that represented her family and she was sure it would look beautiful in her room.