Worth The Shot

Heart Bruise

The the worst imaginable person stared at you with betrayed shock. Camilo had seen everything.

"So that's why you wanted to leave so desperately last night," Camilo finally choked out, nodding with deceived realization. "You really had me fooled, (y/n)."

"No, I wasn't trying to steal the candle, I-" Your pleading words froze like bitter lies on your tongue. But that's exactly what I was doing. I backed out, but I'm still the reason why the candle is gone. Things wouldn't be any different if I had stolen it myself.

Camilo features were a mask of silent fury. He aggressively yanked you to your feet by the collar of your shirt. He practically dragged you into his room. You cried out as acidic pain shot through your arm. Camilo didn't even react. My arm. Is it broken?

"Camilo, I'm sorry," you spluttered, stumbling over your feet as you jogged to keep up with his mercilessly quick gait. In Camilo's room, the nebulous floor churned like a stormy sea beneath your feet, an enraged red. "This isn't as bad as it looks, I can explain."

Camilo pushed you up against a pole, his hand gripping a fistful of your shirt. "Yeah, you will. You'd better start talking." Scratchy rope twisted off of the pole and restrained your wrists behind your back.

Your arm shrieked in pain, forced to bend, and tears burned in your eyes. You bit the side of your cheek to keep quiet. Crying wouldn't help anything.

Camilo coldly regarded you, as if disgusted by your tears. You weren't sure what you had expected to find in his eyes. Sympathy? You didn't deserve that from him anymore.

I can't do this. He's expecting me to say something, but I'm scared if I talk I'll cry. Like a coward, you fixed your blurry eyes on the floor. Away from Camilo's hurt glare.

"No, don't look at the floor. You think that's gonna change anything? Look at me." You blinked hard, scared to meet his gaze. Camilo harshly ordered, "Right now."

"Or else what, you'll hit me like your abuela?" You defensively choked out. You regretted the words immediately.

Camilo withdrew, stunned. His mouth widened in disbelief. A wounded red-blue pulse coursed through his room.

"You have no right to say that!" Camilo incredulously gaped. "Don't insult my abuela. You know nothing about my family!"

"Sorry, I shouldn't have-" you haltingly tried to take it back, but Camilo didn't let you finish.

"I believed you! You promised me you were on my side!" Camilo tearfully shouted, shaking with fury. "I defended you to Dolores, my cousins, my parents..." Camilo rushed a hand through his hair, resentfully closing his eyes. "God, I was so stupid. Abuela was right."

"Let me explain-"

"No," Camilo silenced you with a dry, bitter laugh. "Now I know what you are. You're nothing but a pathetic, simpering little liar. Cut the crying act, (y/n)! It must get exhausting pretending to be so worthlessly fragile all the time."

"I'm not a liar," You mumbled, hurt by Camilo's stinging insult. Is that what he really thinks of me?

"Yes, you are," Camilo snarled with contempt. He glowered down at you, shoving his face intimidatingly close to yours. "Admit it!"

"If you'd stop yelling for one second, and listen-"

"And where that has gotten me?" Camilo screamed. "I'll I've done is listen to you!"

Your head snapped back with a dizzying burst of pain. Shocked, you stared at Camilo. He'd hit you.

Camilo's wounded scowl fell slowly, replaced by an expression of dawning horror. He sharply jerked back his arm, not trusting his own hand. Wide-eyed, he backed away, stammering, "I-I'm sorry, I-"

Dazed from your throbbing cheek, you glassily watched Camilo retreat to the far side of his room. He crouched down, blankly staring at the floor with scared, shallow breaths.

"Dolores," Camilo whimpered, lost. "Dolores. Help me." Magically summoned, Dolores rushed into the room with short, clipped steps. Her eyes darted around, as if analytically connecting what she had heard to the scene.

"Oh, no, Hermano." She disappointedly whispered to Camilo, realizing you'd been unfairly immobilized while he'd hurt you.

"I- I can't be near her right now," Camilo's voice wobbled upward, like a question. Rattled, he desperately whispered, "Dolores, I'm becoming just like abuela."

"No, you're not," Dolores sternly said. "You can stop it. Let her go, Camilo." The rope and pole windlessly dissolved into Camilo's floor. Dolores firmly grabbed your arm, leading you through the hallway to her room.

He hit me. I can't believe he hit me. The stunned thought echoed through your mind.

"Julieta! Has anyone seen Julieta?" A voice anxiously begged downstairs. Dolores startled, concerned for her aunt, but ushered you into her room. Dolores' room felt like an ocean cave. Cool, dark, and soundproofed, with the soothing rush of waves blowing like relaxing, white noise. Massive, soft pillows loafed on the floor, creating the perfect sensory hideaway.

"I don't understand," Dolores blinked at you, confused and betrayed. "I couldn't hear everything. It's all jumbled. Are you on our side?"

"Yes, Dolores," you shakily whispered, regretting everything. "I'm sorry. I really am sorry." Why didn't I listen to Camilo? He was right. I never should have gone there.

Her round eyes softened, and she gently said, "Rest in here. You will be safe. I think I believe you, but Abuela will want a trial tomorrow."

"Thanks," you numbly mumbled, rubbing your eyes as Dolores locked the door, sealing you in the comforting darkness.

You were safely closed away from Camilo's cruel side and your father's manipulations. You could have sunk into the otherworldly, soundproofed protection and blocked out everything. You could have relaxed your exhausted shoulders and slept.

But you slumped on the floor and cried.