The Heart of Camilo (A Camilo Madrigal x Reader Fem Y/N Story)

Astray

Mini Author's Note: Hi everyone!!! Early update for you because it's March Break and I can WRITE ALL DAY :D :D and omg okay everyone, see the attached picture for fanart of Diego! It's done by the AWESOME AND AMAZING madisonloves101 - I LOVE YOU!! THANK YOU FOR SENDING ME THIS!!! And I love EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU for reading and not getting sick of these characters who have become my entire life LOLOLOL!! ENJOY!! 

*Camilo*

Four Years After the Wedding

Four Months Since the Previous Chapter

Camilo and Y/N's ages: 24 years old

I dismounted my horse and tied her up on a nearby pole, looking up at the small building in front of me. There were probably six or seven apartments inside, and I could see the landlord's house beside it, right at the corner of the busy street, lined with other small houses and apartment buildings, one of the newest villages to be built in the recent years, and one of the furthest out from the actual Encanto at the center. Lots of people were milling about as the afternoon wore on and people finished with their work for the day, walking home or getting together with others. But I was only looking for one - Diego.

It had taken a long time to find him, but with Damian's help, we had finally tracked him down last month. He had been gone for almost four months at this point and had not once returned to our house, finding a job with the blacksmith in this village and getting his own apartment. He wasn't using his given surname, which had made it that much more difficult to locate him. Shockingly enough, he had chosen Ramirez to replace it, something which upset me more than I cared to admit. But Damian eventually asked around at enough places, finally having someone who recognized him from a photo, and they were able to describe him to us and where he lived.

I walked up to the building and pushed open the main entrance, seeing a flight of stairs in front of me. I knew he was apartment #4 on the second floor, and so I walked up, pushing another door open and walking into a small hallway, two doors at either end for #3 and #4. I went to #4, taking a deep breath in, mentally preparing myself, and knocked. I waited, apprehension building in my chest the longer he took to answer the door, until I realized he wasn't coming. There was no peephole so there was no way he could know it was me - he must not be home yet.

I sighed, leaning against the wall, prepared to wait. My thoughts turned to Y/N and my heart sank. In the days after I had returned home from the trip with my father, after Diego had left, we had assumed, like always, he would return in a few days. When he didn't, Y/N had grown increasingly panicked, insisting we search for him, and we had - realizing soon that he wasn't in Encanto or any of the closer villages. We had finally heard from one of his friends that he had left purposely, having stayed with him for a few days as he had prepared to go, so we knew that he hadn't had an accident or anything, but it had broken Y/N in a way I wasn't prepared for. She had cried for days, refusing to get out of bed, feeling that she had failed him. Even when I was able to persuade her to get up, come out with me to work, just go to Casita, it was all with a numbness about her that she couldn't shake.

Of course, she was also dealing with me and the nightmares that had returned with a vengeance, which didn't make anything easier for her. For two or three weeks after I had returned, the nightmares were so horrific she and I were woken up 4 or 5 times a night, much like I had while away with my father. It got to the point where I was so strung out and exhausted that I had passed out while working with Luisa at the shelter. My father had sent me home, telling me that I wouldn't be working for a few weeks, to just focus on rest and recovery. I followed what my father had advised me - no using sex to deal with the nightmares or other negative emotions, no avoiding, just doing the coping exercises he wanted me to, making sure to talk with him often, and slowly, slowly, the nightmares had improved, becoming one or two a night, and then once, and then a few times a week, until where they were at currently, happening once a week or less. Not ideal - but certainly an improvement.