timeless memories || mirabel madrigal X female reader

16. you were the sun that provided me with shadow

"I can't go up that stage. Nobody's gonna hear me." Your mother mutters, putting a hand to her throat as she scoffed once again.

"Geez, Mamí, you should have asked Tía Julieta for an arepa !" You sigh. She had refused any help from the Madrigal, sharing the same idea that it was better for her to build up a decent immune system in case something bad happened to the magic. But this time, she could have accepted, just this time, because you needed her voice. And that's what her cold got rid off, as well as any sense of smell. Which is why she couldn't smell your father's bullshit coming.

"(Y/n) can just go !" The man pats, or rather slaps your shoulder, trying to show some support.

You let out a weird exclamation, stuck between laughing and screaming your rage and confusion in his face.

"Sorry ? I think you should go. Clearly I'm not the right one to sell your own work to those people."

He had finished his new set of paintings, and now it was time to sell it. And just renting a nice small shop where people could come and choose whether they wanted to buy it or not was not enough, your parents had found out that auctions worked a lot better. It also brought more money.

But your mother was the one who usually presented it, and she was not able to do that today. People were starting to gather around the small scene Luisa had set up in the morning, and now someone had to go on it.

You were just fine on the good old floor, protected by the house's shadows. The stage, bathing in the sunlight, was as hot as hell to you.

"I can't go there ! I'm socially awkward !" Your father answers, panicked. He was, indeed, extremely awkward, and that wasn't the best to sell his products.

"So am I !" You exclaim. "Besides, that's not my problem. Go make some money yourself." You cross your arms and turn your back to him, immediately turning back when your mother called your name.

"(Y/n)." She looked at you with pleading eyes. "You know if your father goes up on that stage, we're doomed. The twins are too young, Esme is just like him. Only you can do this."

Uh oh. Your mother had spoken facts. You couldn't retaliate to that.

"I..." You start, desperate for any miraculous solution you couldn't find. Having so much people looking at you was really stressful to you, and you know you'd loose your words in front of them. In that sunlight.

You were okay with making class presentations. You were fourteen students, plus the teacher, and everyone knew you. You were okay with being loud, making jokes, with your friends. Because you were at ease with them. You were not at ease in front of dozens of people.

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From the other side of the crowd that gathered before the stage, Dolores anxiously searches for her cousin. When her eyes finally sets on her, she lets out a relieved sigh and puts a hand on her shoulder, startling the fifteen years old with her sudden apparition.

"Mira, (Y/n)'s in distress." She smiles mockingly, seeing her cousin's features turn serious. "Right by the stage. She's about to get on."

The twenty-one years old laughs as Mirabel let's out a strangled scream, knowing all too well about your fear, and runs into the crowd to try and get to you.

You climb up the stairs hesitantly, gravity getting stronger with every step. Would it be a problem if you weren't able to move your feet anymore ? They were suddenly very heavy.

There you were. On stage, near the ledge, in the small part of it that was still in the shadow. People were already looking at you, stopping talking in expectation for your father's new works.

You were about to step into the light and let it consume you, feeling your heart beat in your forehead, when someone beat you to it. You see a flash of blue fabric before a familiar voice sounds, clear and cheerful.

"Alright everyone, welcome to this season's auction ! You may already know me, my name's Mirabel Madrigal, and I'll be presenting today's artworks !"

Mirabel stood in the light as the crowd clapped and cheered for her, responding to her energetic behavior. She looks at you briefly, winking, before returning to her speech.

"Now, I'll be presenting the first painting. Thank you for bringing it on stage, (Y/n)."

Ah, yes. Your father had shoved it in your arms before pushing you towards the stairs, along with a paper that briefly presented the painting and its purpose.

You make your way to the easel that waited at the center of the stage, suddenly finding walking oddly easier. Your place the painting on it, then handing the paper to Mirabel subtly, her hot fingers grazing your freezing ones in the process. This touch finishes to calm you down, and it seems to give Mirabel some more strength as she cheerfully presents the artwork under the crowd's exclamations.

You see a small child make his way to the front, people letting him pass in front of them because of his smaller complexion. The kid waves at you, which confuses you, until he turns into Camilo, standing there with a mischievous grin. Some people grunt behind him, sick of being played by the shapeshifter.

You catch sight of Agustín and Luisa, hovering above everyone. They were both watching Mirabel, confused but proud of the Madrigal. Julieta was probably somewhere next to them, but you couldn't see her, your vision getting blocked by Óscar, who was trying to get on Mariano's, his brother, shoulders. Your classmate catches your gaze and smiles at you before falling back as Mariano couldn't stand his weight anymore.

A small cloud gives away Pepa's position, but it soon goes away as you see Félix hold his wife's waist with a comforting smile. You also notice Dolores standing a bit away from the crowd, covering her ears with a smirk. She winks at you, for some reason. You wink back, shrugging.

Abuela is also there, in the second row, supported by Isabela who flashes you a small smile. She looks at Mirabel with a questioning eyebrow raise, but you can see the corner of her lips move slightly upwards when Mirabel cracks a joke.

The auction goes well, you bringing the paintings on stage and Mirabel selling them for higher prices than your mother ever did, thanks to her outgoing and bright personality. No use to say you were watching her in admiration the whole time you weren't busy moving the paintings around.

She had saved you from such an embarrassment moment. As you step back down to fetch another painting, your mother comes up to you and speaks in her weak, hoarse voice :

"That's the right one, mija."

"Yeah." Was the only thing you could answer, watching Mirabel effortlessly making the crowd react the way she wanted. She turns to you briefly, flashing a wide grin. Her eyes sparkling in joy.

At that very moment, you realized you were ready to give her your whole world.
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