𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕤𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕙 ...
Y/N Zayas was a content but timid child, living in a small village in Panama until discovering that she was cursed to be followed by fire and flood. Her Abuela, with the best intentions, hears of a magica...
small a/n | idk why it said my story was complete, its definitely not at all i just must've accidentally hit the button. also i can't read comments rn for some reason :'( i was planning to update last night but i ended up at a party with friends
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The next morning was typical after one of these sleepovers, though our roles became reversed. I was the lookout, telling Camilo when the coast was clear to leave. I watched eagerly as he slipped from under the covers, to stand in the sunlight and redress himself in the same clothes from yesterday. He maintained his composure through this change of states. I could never.
Perhaps he felt that showing his body would make me want him. But that's clearly not the case. Though it's undoubtedly an attractive one, I find it to be so because I've already developed feelings before seeing him this way.
I found myself lost in thought as I often did while tending to chores. Under Alma's instruction, I'd taken up sweeping the common rooms and halls to care for Casita. But this only made the longing in my heart grow stronger, it appeared, because I was more often in the place where these emotions so often took on new shapes.
I thought of what Camilo had said last night. How he'd offered to be my first, assuring me that he'd be a gentle lover; could that have been a request for something more? Could he sense the truth that I buried deep inside? Certainly not. But this thought lead me on the trail back to his parents. It was possible he could've been testing the waters; and acting on his father's words from that night. Now that this had clicked, it was as though the stars aligned for the perfect conclusion; we were very similar to his parents in their younger years. There's something romantic about that, in a sense.
But I need to remind myself, there's still nothing romantic between us. Not until I hear a confession, those sweet words. I need to stop looking so deep into these things, or I'll fall into the abyss of overthinking, never to be seen again.
Lunch that noon was typical. Camilo and I sat next to each other once again, and he greeted me with that same smile that left me craving it every time it cleared back into a blank face. Though he could tell a story with just those eyes, and I'd stare intently. But not for too long. Only in tidbits, but I'd cherish what I had because it was so fleeting.
Camilo spoke. "You know, last night, y/n, when we were sleeping—"
"You two... slept together? But I didn't hear that," Dolores interjected, though still trying to avoid the rest of the family listening in. "I heard..."
"Not that kind of sleeping!" Camilo quickly interrupted.
"No, definitely not! Just a sleepover, like friends."
"It better have been." Dolores looked, still in a slight bit of shock.
"Yes, it was. I promise, hermana."
I nodded in pleading compliance.
After that, Dolores looked away, though it seemed she had some doubts. No, there's no way we could've been silent enough doing that kind of sleeping. But now it was on my mind. And that's where it would stay.
