ligaya.

The art of contact.

The girl usually seen with the Madrigals, Camilo, to be specific; was now seen in front of the vibrant stalls of encanto. A fresh loaf of bread in hand, and a few other pastries in the other. She carefully examined the product sealed in a tight and secure wrapping, reading the description and ingredients.

“Finally found one you like?” The shopkeeper asked with a smile. Realizing she’s been going back and forth, unsure which one to purchase, the girl smiled back in embarrassment. It must have taken a long time.

“Sí, sorry for making you wait, señora,” [name] said, placing the loaf of bread on the counter as she glanced around. As usual, the town was lively as ever. “No problem, chica. Here ya go,” The shopkeeper said, offering her the bread that was now in a brown, paper bag.

“Gracías,” she whispered, taking the paper bag in hand as she payed. She continued on with her day, deciding to purchase a loaf of bread she could perhaps share with the pottery shop owner who currently owned the place she worked at.

She was enthusiastic, though, it didn’t show. It was her fourth (4th) day working there, as a thanks, she decided to treat them.

A smile adorning her face as she heard the bell chime as soon as she opened the wooden door. Coming in contact with the golden doorknob, pushing it open. “Good morning, señor. I bought some bread and other more pastries for today’s afternoon snack. I hope you fancy such delicacies,” The girl greeted, slightly raising the two (2) paper bags in hand to show them.

“Ah, gracías! You didn’t have to,” Señor Roel said. He was an old man, around fifty (50) He always had a new batch of newspaper in hand (and some stocked on the back of his desk) and a dark, brown smoking pipe. Usually seen behind his clean desk in the side of his shop run by him and his wife.

Speaking of wife, Señora Gracia walked in. Dress adorned with vibrant flowers. The girl hummed, assuming they came from Isabela, seeing the familiar flowers she usually grew. “Hello there. Thank you for the treats, chica.”

The girl smiled, “I insist.” Placing the two (2) paper bags on a vacant table along with her other belongings. “Your little novio dropped by earlier,” Señor Roel spoke, grinning to himself as a chuckle left his lips. “Dios! Don’t tease [name] like that,” Señora Gracia said, lightly hitting her husband with a rolled newspaper. Must have been from his collection.

“Novio? Ay, you got it wrong, señor, señora,” [name] laughed along. “It’s true, he did come here earlier,” The older woman whispered, nudging her lightly with her hip and a teasing grin.

“He gave me a bouquet of rosas earlier, too,” She giggled sheepishly. That wasn’t a surprise— the younger lady knew how Camilo had a soft spot for older women. He was a mami’s boy, such act didn’t come off as shocking. He was a gentleman, always treating ladies with care and having teens his age swooning over him.

“He’s a great kid, chica. I approve,” Señora Gracia whispered teasingly, eyeing the younger gal mischievously. “Me too,” Señor Roel said, smiling to himself as he continued on reading the local newspaper.

[name] giggled at the cute couple. Slightly nodding as she rolled her eyes playfully. “Mm, indeed he is. Thank you, señor, señora.”

“Ay please! Call us mami and papi,” The old woman smiled, intertwining her arm with the girl that stood beside her. [name] simply returned the kind smile, nodding with a small whisper of agreement escaping her lips.

The sound of the bells chiming cut through her words. Their heads perking up at the sound of the interruption. “Ah, I see the Familia Rivera is here,”

As expected, there he stood. She wasn’t surprised anymore, always somehow ending up with him every day. “Hello, Camilo,” she greeted with a smile. “We were just talking about you. Could you be inheriting Dolores’ gift now?”

“Hello to you, too, hermosa,” he said, grinning to himself. “I hope it wasn’t anything bad. And no, I am not. I am perfectly fine the way I am,” he answered, tone filled with pride. He took great joy in his ability in shapeshifting.

“Indeed you are,” [name] cooed, softly chuckling. “What brings you here? Don’t tell me you’re yearning for my presence again, chico,” The girl joked, slightly nudging him with her arm and an amused grin.

That— he couldn’t deny. “Of course, I do. You are simply that irresistable.” As much as he was embarrassed to admit it, he saw no use of denying it knowing fully well the girl knew.

“Mm, right. And I,” she slightly leaned towards him, gently tapping his nose. “Have work today. Come by again when I’m finished,” she laughed, putting on a brown apron and fixed her hair in a more appropriate way. The girl didn’t want clay all over it.

“An extra hand wouldn’t be so bad,” Señora Gracia exclaimed in delight, a wide and toothy grin on her face as she caressed her husband’s back. Camilo only looked at [name], the same, usual grin on his face.

“You’re stuck with me again, querida,” he laughed, walking beside her. “I’m always stuck with you,” she answered, a light scoff leaving her lips as she rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“Just exactly how I like it,” he responded, lips curving into a toothy grin. “What a clingy baby you are,” the girl sighed, sitting down on a short, wooden stool.

“Aw, you called me baby,” Camilo laughed, sitting in front of her. “I’m using it as an insult, tonto,” she laughed along, shooting him a weird, playful grin. He gasped dramatically, in disbelief of what she had just called him.

They stared at each other momentarily before breaking into a fit of laughter. Their voices echoed throughout the room, syncing together in a way he couldn’t describe. It felt nice— to be with her again. To hear her joyous laughter and her toothy grin adorning her face.

He felt warm, flustered and fragile. Almost as if he would crumble in your touch. It send shivers down his spine and butterflies in his stomach (or whatever people say when they’re in love, he was unsure)

He enjoyed spending time with her. May it be a day full of dumb conversations or silence embracing them as they look into each others eyes momentarily— not a word to be said.

Words weren’t needed to express the joy he felt. Or maybe, he just couldn’t find the right ones to say.

“Are you alright?” She asked, touching his hand gently with hers. He winced slightly, the clay feeling a bit cold coated in her hands.

“Never been better.”