Camilo x Reader -Broken Reflection

Chapter 35 (Damn, how'd you manage to mess it up again?)

Y/N's POV

We awoke to the sound of yelling downstairs. My limbs were tangled in a messy heap of sheets and Mirabel's limbs. Camilo was curled next to me too. After stepping inside from the balcony the night before, we were too tired to even move. Instead of making Camilo travel back to his own bedroom, we shoved all of my sheets and blankets to the floor where we fell asleep next to Mirabel- after all, Camilo did want to have a sleepover. The only difference was that most sleepovers include staying up and giggling, snacking on unhealthy treats, and gossiping about others. We simply fell asleep within a few moments of our heads hitting our pillows.

Mirabel was the first to wake, but it didn't take long for Camilo and I to slip from the world of dreams once more. With hushed feet, we slipped out of my room and padded through the Casita, closer to the screaming voices. They were harsh and full of anger and frustration. I could feel the emotions wafting off from the people who fought and its toll on my body was unpleasant. It made my heart race and my head swim. Sometimes I hated my gift despite how much closer I felt to others.

"And what about Mirabel?" I heard a familiar voice yell. It was Julieta. Immediately, I knew what she was arguing about. It seemed that Mirabel did too, judging by the look on h her face.

"This isn't about Mirabel," I heard another voice retaliate. I didn't even have to guess- I knew the voice belonged to Abuela.

"Of course it is! When will she ever be enough? When will you let her finally be happy?"

"When has she ever been unhappy? Look at all of this!" Abuela gestured to the Casita around her. "She lives in a house full of magic. She lives in a town of Encanto! How could she possibly be unhappy here with her family?"

Camilo and I exchanged glances. We were standing around the corner and peeking out to see the argument take place in the kitchen. We weren't exactly hiding, but we were out of sight. The stove was on and it appeared to be that Julieta had been cooking minutes before. Agustín stood next to her and was glancing worriedly at the stove and his mother-in-law.

I could also see Pepa and Félix in the kitchen, bearing hard expressions on their face. They were stone cold, but it didn't take a gift to know how concerned they were for both parties.

Abuela exhaled a deep breath and rubbed her forehead with the pads of her fingers with closed eyes. "All I'm saying is that we need to focus on what brought us here. We need to remember to honor our gifts and use them with consciousness."

"What if they were gone?" Pepa demanded. "What if we didn't have them anymore?"

"You know what would happen," Abuela said. "We'd lose everything... again." Her face fell for a split second and then hardened again. "I can't let that happen again. I won't."

"Then how can you say such a thing about Mirabel? She is every bit a part of this family just as everyone else, gift or no gift!"

"It's not the same," Abuela tried to reason. I could hear Mirabel whimper beside me.

"And what about you?" Another voice demanded. It took me a moment to realize that it was Bruno's. He was standing next to Abuela, out of our line of view. "All you do is carry that damned candle and shit on the rest of us for not doing what you want us to do!"

Félix whispered his brother-in-law's name in shock but Bruno shook his head. "None of us will ever be enough for you, will we?" His voice broke and he turned away. It was obvious that Abuela had struck a nerve in all of them and Bruno was the first to snap. He was the first to say something that he may later regret, but at that moment, there is no regret in his eyes; only a fiery passion.

"Can you really call us part of your family when you yourself don't have a gift? When you accept a stranger into our home more than your own granddaughter?"

"Enough!" Abuela shouted. Her hand shot out and she slapped a porcelain mug that rested on the edge of the counter. It flew across the room and smashed against the kitchen's wall, nearly inches away from her son's head. Bruno didn't so much as flinch, as if he were used to it.

"Shut up, I swear to the Saints, shut up!" Abuela screamed. Tears were streaking down her face. "You should be the last to speak! When will you ever be of use? When will you ever actually help us, Pedro?" The room fell silent enough that I could hear Abuela's racing heart. She swallowed and stared at her son while her tears dripped down her cheeks and fell to the ground below her.

It was clear that their argument wasn't just about Abuela or Mirabel, or even their gifts (or lack thereof).

From the other side of the room, Julieta was leaning into Agustín. Her frame shook as she cried into his shoulder.

"Mom," Bruno whispered. His voice was softer than the blanket that Camilo, Mirabel, and I had been sleeping on less than ten minutes ago.

Pepa and Félix were the first to leave. Mirabel's parents shuffled after them shortly after, and then it was just Bruno and Abuela left in the kitchen. They stood stiffly next to each other, barely daring to breathe. They avoided each other's eyes and stared into space.

The only audible sound was the soft shudder of her breath, hiccups, and sniffs that came from Abuela's airways. Bruno stiffly left moments later and Abuela crumpled to the ground in a sobbing mess.