You Are My Encanto

Chapter Seven

Much to your dismay, you woke up in a good mood.

The sounds of the natural setting in your room bubbled and sprung to life around you, and a ray of sunlight peeked through your curtains to hit your bed. You weren't quite sure what time it was, but it was morning at the very least, so you forced yourself out of bed.

Thoughts from last night flooded into your brain as you threw the covers off, and attempted to rub the sleep from your eyes.

You remembered Camilo coming to check on you. You remembered falling asleep on his shoulder in the grass. You remembered waking up in bed with him propped up in a chair to your right, and his ruana draped over your shoulders. You remembered sneaking out of your room wearing it, and finding Tío Bruno hiding out in the walls. You remembered talking to him about why he left...and about the vision of your future that he'd looked into. The two-sided possibility. Joy versus anguish. After that...it was fuzzy. You remembered falling...but how'd you end up back in bed? It surely couldn't have been a dream. It was all too real...

Letting your legs swing out over the edge of the bed, you groaned and took a moment to peek back over your shoulder. Camilo was nowhere to be seen, and the chair was returned to its spot at your desk. You looked down, and realized that you were still wearing his ruana. He was a shape-shifter, so he could pass off without wearing one by shifting into an image of himself wearing it, but you still felt kind of bad for stealing it like this.

Gathering the material in your hands, you hesitantly pulled it up and over your head. A rush of cold air blew down your back and you shivered, setting the brightly colored ruana beside you in a smooth sheet. You traced the chameleon pattern with your fingers before pulling your hand back, and sighed as you stood.

Lights flashed in your eyes as you stood, and dizziness briefly overcame your senses. You braced yourself on the bedpost, waiting it out. When your vision finally stopped spinning, and the lanterns no longer looked like glowing blobs of space, you made your way to your closet and gathered your clothes.

Slipping the soft nightgown over your head was always a dreaded action, and you instantly shivered as the moisture from the dew and the grass chilled the air, and clung to your skin. Smooth skin was a big plus, but the cold was something you struggled to adapt to in the mornings.

First, you slipped on the shorter blouse, adjusting the neck of it so that it didn't dip down, to where it rested just below your collarbones, and just barely covering your shoulders. You smoothed out the ruffles, and pulled up the short, puffed sleeves to where they didn't look so...flat. The cool, creamy white color matched the color of Dolores' blouse, which created a nice flow between the two of you.

Next came the long, layered skirt, which slipped over your head with ease. Patterned with shapes representing that of the sun's rays, the different layers of yellow and orange created a spectacle of golden color, matching both your gift, and Camilo's side of the Madrigal family. Much like your blouse, the skirt had ruffles along the bottom hem, with a color almost like...how the morning sun would hit your blouse. Creamy and white, but with a golden undertone. Then, you slipped your own ruana over your head, which was patterned with golden wisps, similar to your aura of light that had been painted in the mural in the town plaza. It looked much alike to Camilo's ruana, as Pepa had made both of them around the same time, only instead of chameleons and stripes, you had sun rays and golden wisps.

Your espadrilles resembled Mirabel's, only they were an orange-gold color rather than pink. Your hair, as always, went untouched. Sure you would lazily comb your fingers through it every now and again, but it hardly ever made a difference.

There wasn't much to your appearance, but you were comfortable, and it represented your gift well. It was good enough.

Looking into the mirror hidden beside your wardrobe, you took in the sight of messy hair, flushed cheeks, and dark circles under your eyes. You looked as though you hadn't slept all night, when in fact, you had. Perhaps it was the stress of living life as a knockoff Madrigal.