Worth The Shot

SmokeScreen

Author's note:
@OfficialCheese made y/n in Gacha! They did an INCREDIBLE job, she looks so cute! I love Casita in the background.

Message me if you're interested in submitting fanart! Love you guys <3

BACK TO THE STORY

Breathing heavily from physical exhaustion, Camilo glanced up from his cup. His features hardened, upset, as he caught you trying to back away.

"Hey," He exhaled, frowning at your fear. He held unnaturally still, pleading with you to trust him. "I'm not gonna hurt you. I swear."

"Hey," you cautiously responded, feeling as flighty as a nervous bird around a cat. You uncomfortably brushed your hair away from your face, accidentally revealing the sickly purple-yellow bruise that sunk into your skin.

Camilo shudderingly drew in a painful breath, his eyes lingering on your cheek with dismay. You immediately released your hair, and it softly fall like a curtain.

"No. Let me see it. Please." Camilo begged, his expression pained. "How bad is it? Does it hurt?"

"Don't do that, Camilo," You quietly muttered, finally crossing to Camilo's side of the kitchen. Cool water splashed into the pitcher as you filled it. Of course the bruise hurts. Why does he need to hear me say it? He'll just beat himself up even more.

Cursing to himself, Camilo shut his eyes, stricken.

"I'm sorry. I know it doesn't change anything," Camilo's stifled whisper seeped into the silence like salty teardrops on a pillow. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"Thanks," you faintly murmured. Accepting his genuine apology still felt like trying to grasp a tendril of wispy smoke. Camilo's presence hung over the kitchen like fog, and you were choking. I miss the old him. The one I trusted. With a longing ache in your chest, you retreated from the kitchen.

"Hey, be careful with that pitcher," Camilo warned, his tone gently teasing and worried.

Distracted, you just nodded. Hyper-aware of the swishing water that you handled, you deliberately avoided Alma with an intricate maneuver around the table.

"Thank you, (Y/n)," Alma magnanimously thanked as you slipped into your chair next to Mirabel.

"Camilo was in there," you restlessly told Mirabel in a hushed voice.

"What?" She anxiously hissed to you. "What did he want? If he doesn't leave you alone, I'm gonna have to use that mop for something other than cleaning." She indignantly mimed whacking someone with a mop.

"No, it wasn't like that," you breathily laughed at Mirabel's display. "He said he's sorry. He said-"

"(Y/n) and Mirabel!" Alma interrupted with an annoyed frown. "Save your chat for later. This is serious."

"Yes, Abuela," Mirabel immediately droned. You straightened in your seat. Right. She has news about my father.

"As you all know," Alma addressed the entire table. "The candle has been stolen. And (y/n), your father... has disappeared. Like our missing Madrigals, Dolores can't hear him."

"He's left the Encanto?" You asked, disappointed. He wasn't concerned about me at all? I could have died from that fall!

"No," Alma proudly declared. "For a few minutes this morning, Dolores heard him. Tell them."

"It was as if he had appeared out of nowhere,"  Dolores quietly said, her round eyes glowing eagerly. "I heard a strange noise, like a bubble popping, and then he was in my range!"

"So he's still in the Encanto!" Augustin thoughtfully stroked his mustache. "And somehow, he's found a way to block the gifts."

Felix's downcast expression lit up. "We can't hear him, but he's still here! That means she is still alive!" Poor Felix. He must have missed Pepa desperately.

"Dolores, remember the refugees who gathered in my father's house? Before the fireworks started? Are they still in the Encanto?" You crossed your fingers hopefully.

"Oh. Yes," Dolores blinked. "I hadn't thought of that. Yes, they never left. But I wouldn't recognize any of them."

"But I would!" You cheered, enthusiastically glancing at Alma. "I can search the village for them! They must know something about where my father is hiding and keeping the prisoners!"

I need to find the tall girl. Cristina. She'll want to help me.

Alma smiled at your revelation and nodded her consent. "Find out what you can. Felix and Augustin, search the village for hideouts. Mirabel," Alma hesitatingly coughed, trying to find a use for her granddaughter. "Watch Antonio."

Mirabel shot you an irritated look at Alma's mundane task. "Wish I could come with you," she mouthed.

You jogged through the marketplace to your former home, flinging open the door. If they left something behind, I'm going to find it.

"Hello?" A crackly, bothered voice startled you as your hands rummaged through a drawer in your house.

Your head shot up and you blinked in shock.

"Abuela?"