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

Diego in Black - Part 1

*Diego*

Seven Years and Eight Months After the Wedding

One Year After the Previous Chapter

Diego's Current Age: 24

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where 'I' does not exist, nor 'you',
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep. 

- Pablo Neruda, XVII (I do not love you...)

Let sorrowful longing dwell in your heart. Never give up, never lose hope. 

Allah (God) says, "The broken ones are my beloved." 

Crush your heart. 

Be broken. 

-Abu Saeed Abil Kheir

I stood in the dark, watching Y/N and Camilo through the window play with Leila and prepare dinner. I had stopped by to eat with them, but couldn't seem to open the door to go inside. It was a strange feeling, watching them. Like I wasn't real, like I wasn't supposed to be here, like they took up all the light and there was none left for the rest of us. Camilo held Leila up in the air, both of their eyes alight with happiness and joy as they watched her laugh. Leila squirmed to come down and he brought her into their arms again, before they turned to each other, giving each other a kiss. Y/N went to walk away, back to the stove and Camilo pulled her back to hug her, making her laugh, kissing her again, before he turned, putting Leila down into her high chair. He sat down in front of her and began making silly faces, making Leila laugh out, clapping her hands in front of her.

I swallowed, knowing I couldn't go in there today, sometimes it was too much. There was too much light. I slowly backed away from the house. It was late, the sun had set an hour ago. I had been working all day and my leg hurt badly. I could feel the blood from the blisters beginning to soak through the wrap I used between my leg and the prosthetic. I limped back over to Andhera, who waited quietly, tied up to a tree in their front yard. She lowered her head to me as I walked back to her and I pushed my forehead against hers, closing my eyes. I could hardly see her in the dark, her coat was so black - it was cloudy tonight and the moonlight wasn't strong.

"I can't today," I whispered to her. She snorted at me. "Oh, come on, I see them all the time," I replied as if she had chastised me. "Let's go home." I pulled myself up onto the saddle, settling in and looking back at the glowing light from the window before turning away. I had her walk slowly back to my apartment, taking the smaller roads that weren't lit up with lanterns, feeling numb, feeling like I was floating, knowing that I was glowing black if Ruben had been here to comment on it. Some days, it whispered behind me like a ghost and other days, like today, it held me by the throat, choking the life out of me, leaving me breathless, faint, sick and endlessly numb.