Stuck With You ⇁ Carlos Madrigal

15

"I've decided."

"On what?" 

You looked over at her, taking a deep tired breath before setting down the fabric in your hands. "-- I'm never getting married." 

Mirabel raised an eyebrow then laughed, she lifted her feet off the pedal of the sewing machine, as she  turned to you, shaking her head slightly. "I don't know, seems like a big thing to decide all of a sudden."

You crossed your arms and huffed. "I'm just saying if this is what it takes to make a wedding happen. I'm better off running away and eloping, less stress." – but no big feast though – was the only real downside you could think of at the moment. 

The past week has been nothing short of hellish. The whole Madrigal family has been busy trying to make sure this upcoming wedding would be perfect, or at least close to it, and of course, ended with you wanting to help out.

You stretch out your arms, hands a bit sore. You had been helping out Mirabel with sewing and crafting decorations and repairing some clothing – with that said, your work wasn't exactly the best, especially compared to Mirabel's, though she was quick to reassure you that the difference wasn't that noticeable, and for your sanity, you were inclined to believe her. 

Mirabel chuckled, playfully rolling her eyes. "Alright, be sure to tell the one you would be running off with beforehand though." 

"Well, yeah." You said with a laugh, leaning back against the chair, eyes once again drifting off towards the dress carefully set off into the corner. A wedding dress – Dolores would be using her mother's dress, with a few additions and adjustments, one thing was sure; she was going to look absolutely stunning. 

"One again, you outdid yourself, Mirabel." You complimented. 

Her lips pulled into a smile. "Thanks, but save it for the actual wedding day. Something else might catch your attention." Mirabel muttered, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion, but soon enough you shrugged it off.

You hear a knock on the door, quickly you jump to your feet, not wanting Mirabel to get out of her designated sewing zone. "I'll get it." You said, already walking towards the door and pulling it open without much thought, a piece of paper is the first thing that comes into your view, then a second, later Carlos.

The shapeshifter smiled, a finger pressed against his lips. He motioned towards the paper in his hand, making you squint as you leaned closer to see the message written on it: 'Downstairs. 5 minutes.  Ready?' it read. 

You glanced at him, taking a moment to understand what he meant, then it clicked. The Serenata! You nodded, and smiled, nervously giving him a thumbs up, unsure of what to respond; can't make too much noise. 

Carlos nodded back, with a free hand he flicked your forehead, glancing inside the room. "Don't forget to take breaks, idiot." He grinned, and when you moved to give him the same treatment, he caught your hand – his eyes didn't leave yours as he leaned down, giving your knuckles a quick kiss. 

You felt heat rise to your face. "Y-you!" 

He laughed, and let go of your hand, taking a step back. "See ya later, hermosa." He flashed you another smile, before turning to leave, and walking away. 

You stared at his back, wondering to yourself if it was too late to throw your slippers at him, when he turned a corner, then you decided it was too late. You sighed, and closed the door.

Your eyes looked around the room, before landing on a pad of paper and a crayon on top of a drawer, you swooped it up and wrote: 'The Serenata is gonna begin in a few minutes, you ready to sing?' — you gently pushed the paper into her view, she flinched for a moment, a bit startled but quickly read it.