willow_peace_101
Carlos has always been timid. That's just how his mother raised him.
Caution was survival in the DeVil household. Loud footsteps meant trouble, a creaking floorboard could spark yelling, and questions, especially the wrong ones, were dangerous. Cruella didn't have patience for fear, but she certainly knew how to create it. So Carlos learned to shrink himself: into shadows, into silence, into safety. He made friends with gears and wires instead of people, trusting machines to follow logic when emotions made no sense at all.
Meeting Evie was never part of the plan.
She was everything the Isle was not; bright, bold, beautifully unbothered by the rules Carlos lived by. Their worlds collided not with drama or destiny, but something quieter. A misstep. An accident. A spark.
And slowly, something began to shift.
Where he saw risk, she saw possibility. Where he hesitated, she moved forward. And while he wasn't ready to name it yet, a new kind of courage began to grow-something that felt a lot like friendship.
(This story is rated MATURE only because there is talk about abusive parents. Nothing too graphic.)