Love Me for Eternity || Bruno Madrigal

Chapter 48: The Dawn of November

Bruno was first to stir that early morning, barely even dawn. The windows opened and creaked, as if it greeted him from his slumber. He waved back drowsily, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes with a stretch of his arms. His eye bags were ever prominent, moreso defined from the lack of sleep he was getting from your pregnancy discomforts. He stayed up with you to rub your back, to hold your hand, to make sure that your needs were met on the late nights of your tossing and turning. It was a miracle in itself that you managed to find sleep after nights of back aches and fatigue, so he let you continue to doze off peacefully. He pulled the blanket higher up your chest and feathered his lips on your swollen belly for a tender kiss. He was glad you didn't wake from his ministrations, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted to shower you and your unborn children with all the love that he could possibly give, lay it in front of you as a show of his worship, but he knew you weren't one to accept material objects so easily.

"Buenos dias, mi cielo. Don't give your mami too much trouble, alright? Let her sleep in for now." He whispered ever so lovingly. There were no kicks in response to his voice, but it was a good thing—these kids were a terribly rowdy bunch. They kicked and squirmed every now and then that it cost you your sleep. He caressed your stomach, pulled your hand to his lips in a kiss, and let you walk through your pleasant dreams. Bruno smiled when you did, kissing your forehead before opening the window to the nursery to give you some fresh air.

The Encanto was still asleep at this hour. The sun hasn't even shown its rays in greeting—well—this time of year meant that the sun was always late anyway. It was quiet; peaceful. The town, as bright and jovial as it is during the day, was equally as ambient during the wee hours of the early morning. There were occasional elderly merchants who would come out to prepare the stalls and a candle lighter who did his rounds in the morning to snuff out the flames of the lamps. He breathed in the cold morning air and exhaled through his mouth while he contemplated.

The past nine months of your pregnancy went on without much trouble (well, if you called your hormonal breakdowns a problem, then maybe he can name a few). Everyone in the house made sure that you were safe and hovered over you to fulfill your pregnant needs. They even made Luisa sleep in Isabela's room for the time being while you were going through your pregnancy. Granted, it was understandable; you were lugging around a belly that was undeniably bigger than your last pregnancy. The triplets were very active during the third trimester—so energetic, in fact, that even Dolores can hear them though her gift. There was one particular baby that was noisy, she told you. The other two were generally well behaved, but one of them was the rowdiest of the bunch. Bruno could only pray that they wouldn't squirm too much and share the room for their siblings.

He glanced at the glowing vision on the bedside table; the image of you and him holding your newborns framed and erected on a custom stand commissioned with the finest wood. You were incredibly close to your due date, so that vision will come into fruition any second now.

When his eyes landed on your sleeping figure, with the eyebags that adorned your face as you slept, he wished the triplets would give their mother a bit of consideration and let her sleep for a bit more before deciding to come out.

A light from the outside caught his eye, just beyond the bushes of the gardens. Even on the veil of darkness from the early morning, he recognized your father even from where he was. He raised his hand to wave, but he stopped short. Mateo was limping, the lamp he was holding missing the glass that covered the flames. He blinked once to confirm, and upon further inspection, he ran down as quietly as he could downstairs just as soon as Mateo had entered Casita's backdoor.

"Padrino, are—are you alright?" He asked, taking the broken lamp from his hand and snuffing out the open flame. Bruno noticed the scratches on his hands and a bit of tear from his pants. There was also some glass sticking out of his arm. Mateo sighed and limped his way to the dining table where cold arepas were sitting on a covered basket on the wood. He grunted when Bruno tried to help him, raising a stern hand as he struggled to take a seat.