Harana: Camilo x Reader

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫: 𝐔𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐲𝐞𝐬

♫

       It only took her a week to fully heal. Leonora stared at her reflection on the window, reaching up to touch her short hair. It had been growing ever since she stopped using medications but it was only now she took off the scarf on her head. 

      Feeling the woolly fabric with her palm and the breeze weaving through her locks— it almost felt like she was removing a part of herself. The part that defined her for so long to the point that she was scared that it was her all. Now that it's gone, who was she? 

      Julieta slung her bag over her shoulder, giving Leonora a sympathetic smile, "I guess this marks the end of my monthly visits." She was surprised by Leonora's sudden progress; the lady in front of her almost looked like a different person she saw from last month. Leonora was a beauty, there was no denying that, but life hasn't quite reached her eyes. It was something that Julieta couldn't heal and so she said her farewells, closing the door quietly.

      "You're actually moving?" Mirabel glided her fingertips over the wall; there was only a single drawing left and it was framed. Y/N sighed, shoving the last of her sketchbook in her bag. "Yep, later this afternoon." She huffed, zipping her luggage. Mirabel heard her mother call her from outside the room, "Welp, don't forget to invite me to the house warming party." She quickly hugged her friend, kissing her right cheek goodbye. 

       Y/N never had imagined moving out, especially at such a young age— it was a bit uncommon for Filipinos and even more for an unwed woman. It was liberating in the sense that she was going against the grain. Yet there was a tinge of dissatisfaction; she somberly gazed at the framed portrait. She had erased the scribbles last night, revealing the ink underneath.  It was a drawing more reminiscent of the past, she did her best to salvage it but there was a slight indent of where she scratched too harshly.

     It was the only portrait that had her mother holding a younger Y/N closely. Leonora still had her long raven hair loosely braided, wearing her favorite floral dress while Y/N clung onto her with a bright grin on her face.

     Francisco bid the Madrigals a safe walk home. A battle that spanned for a year was now put at rest— it was bittersweet. The status quo had drastically changed; his daughter was moving out today and his wife was no longer bedridden. Regardless, there were still unresolved issues that churn beneath the surface. His bed felt cold at night, sleeping beside a not quite stranger. His room felt like a separate world compared to the rest of the house, it was divided between Leonora and Y/N.

     So he went to Leonora in hopes to merge his two worlds together. Her scarf was folded neatly on her lap, her gaze didn't lift when he entered their room. "She's moving out today, you know." Francisco started, making his way over to the other recliner chair. He propped his elbows on his knees, back slightly crouching. "I've heard." Leonora sighed, she knew full too well.

     "Just remember you have a daughter to live for." Her breath hitched. He can see the look of regret just by her microexpressions— her mouth closed tighter and her brows slightly upturned. Reaching out to touch her hand over her lap, he said, "At least join us for lunch."

     She didn't. She wished she had the courage but she caved in her fears. It felt impossible to reach out when there's a cycle of self-loathing that had her throat closing up. Threw her years away grieving, time that she could have spent with her remaining family.

     Life was a carousel; it spins you around until you feel sick. She lost too many to a game she wasn't playing. And it was ruthless for a mother to outlive her child— she wished she had begged harder, dropped on the floor, and pleaded Crisanto not to go. Would he have listened then? The L/N family held a memorial service, his body was never found.

      But then again life was a carousel and you don't stop turning. During the memorial service, her little girl stayed by her side. With the pure innocence in her gaze, she couldn't even comprehend what was happening and yet despite that, she comforted her mother the best she could. "I have a daughter to live for." A whisper. "I have so much to live for." It was the truth. It wasn't about what she had lost, it was about what she has now.

     Light chattering bounced off the walls, a pair of footsteps. The adrenaline kicked in and she jumped out of her seat. Running down the stairs, the conversation ceased. Y/N's eyes briefly widened as it found Leonora's, the grip on her potted plant stiffened and her face hardened. She averted her eyes, focusing on her father. "Come by tomorrow?" Francisco smiled, ruffling her hair, "You bet." 

     And she was gone.

     Leonora just watched her walk out of the house. She didn't get to say a word, maybe not today.