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

Quest

*Y/N*

I opened the door and closed it quietly, hoping my father had already left to begin the farm work for the day. I looked around and didn't hear anything and breathed a sigh of relief. I ran to my room and got my largest bag from the closet and began packing, more heavily than I really needed for three days. But I knew what leaving for more than a week will do to my father. I couldn't expect to come home to anything that wasn't destroyed.  But it didn't matter - I would have a gift. I would be able to protect myself, make sure he could never hurt me again, never have a chance to hurt Camilo. I looked around for anything I may have missed. I didn't have much, just clothes and my collections from the river and the forest. I opened the box I kept my collection in and picked up a few items one by one, examining them and recalling the moment we found them . There was one rock that was really special to me. Camilo and I had found it when we were 9, and because of the unique spots on it, had decided that it was a dragon egg. We had made a nest for it, kept it warm, and waited for it to hatch, giggling every day, asking ourselves what colour our dragon would be, how big it might grow. I picked up the large eagle feather, the one Camilo had found deep in the forest exploring while I had been busy with chores when we were 12. I had been so mad that he had found it without me. I remember mockingly hitting him and saying I had never felt so betrayed. He insisted I keep it, and said that he would never, ever go hunting for things for our collection without me again or he would chop off his arm. I had laughed so hard at his dramatic exaggeration. I could still remember him shoving it into my hands, his earnest promise. I smiled. I tucked the feather and the dragon egg rock into my bag.

I kept digging through the box, and found an envelope stuffed full of notes. I grinned - I had forgotten about these. The notes we used to pass each other in Year 7 when we had FINALLY been assigned desks next to each other. Sadly, our teachers soon figured out that we could not be trusted to focus when in such close proximity, and had never had a desk anywhere near each other again and we had to settle for grins and caught glances across the room. I opened the envelope and pulled out the first note.

Oh, my god, if I had the passion Senor Martinez did for history, I would ... off myself, I had written in my 12-year-old lettering.

No, you wouldn't, I would miss you too much!, he had passed back to me. His lettering was just like him, chaotic and messy. I would recognize it anywhere.

True... I don't know how you even made it to 7 years old without me," I had written back.

I struggled. It was a terrible time. Every day, I just felt SOMETHING WAS MISSING.

Oh, my god, you are so dramatic.

You love it.

You wish.

What is this lesson about?

Umm... the revolution? Possibly ... or math, who the hell knows, haha.

I bet if I finish my chores after school, we can go to the library and get that book you wanted.

What book?

Remember, about that flower you are so into?

I'm not INTO the flower you weirdo, I just thought it was UNIQUE, hello. You wish you had my sophisticated taste to notice the vast complexities of nature.

Yes, every day, it haunts me that I am so inadequate.

I grinned, putting the note back into the envelope. It was stuffed full of notes like this. I tucked it into my bag, as well. I cast my eyes around the room once more, but there was nothing else to bring. I went to the kitchen to pack some food, and set about cooking dinner, thinking about what I could tell me father to allow me outside and buy me some time before he thought I was missing. After a day like yesterday, likely nothing, and I would only have an hour or two before he came to check on me before he went to sleep and found I was gone.