blue

His jacket flowing in the light wind from the holes, exposing his chest. Blue, cold light dancing on his silhouette in a fast tango, his eye twitching on beat.

Carefully, he leads his hand to embrace their jaw in a violent yet graceful grasp, their cheeks pushed up against their nose and lips, plucking them forth.

They don’t scream, no, why would they? They’ve been doing their homework. They’ve been studying his work to the tiniest detail. They know what they’re getting themself into. Or do they?

“Who are you?” He punctures their cheeks red, desperately trying to get their words to bleed out, however their veins of alphabets seem to be drained already.

They only seem to squirm in response. No not squirm. Whine. A whine that doesn’t seem to be a cry of help, perhaps more of a cry of…

“Say something!” Otto shakes the whole of Y/N with a yank of his firm hand.

Their weight balancing on the tip of their toes, squeezed between clenching machines. A lump of salvia getting stuck at the top of their throat. Sweat pumping out as fast as blood runs through from their heart to the tips of their fingers.

“You are… my strange addiction”

Words punched through the layers of spit at the back of their mouth, punching their way through their nearly sealed and chapped lips. Eyes wet with fresh tears, blood vessels beating up against the walls of skin red.

He only hums a grunt in response. Fingers lingering up to the brim of his dark framed glasses, pulling them forward, putting them at edge on his crooked nose. Raw intensity in the deep of his almond eyes. Neither share more of a saying. Their words plastering up the natural waterfalls of sentences, only to keep them thundering inside their head.

His skin gleaming once more before he bashes back in a threatening rage, the metal tentacles rustling further up the bricks, crumbling hitting the top of their head. One stone for every thought that tries to penetrate the blockage. Otto’s hand still limiting the movement of their face to certain extent, though they don’t dare to move. Y/N’s expression barely pulling its eyebrows up in a surprised frown, bowling their tears off the only stopping battier in a strike.

“You’re pathetic.” He growls, lips vibrating lowly with each letter, stretching every syllable, bending them over in ways of justification for his hostility.

Head rumbling with a disturbance of emotional confusion, voices mumbling in rage. Otto’s heart pumping blood out to every inch faster by the second, pushing his chest back and forth. His warm and damp exhales planting upon every inch of Y/N’s already hot rushed face, only for them to give their boiled ones in exchange.

“Otto-“ They stumble on their knotted words, tripping and stuttering ones awaiting to break through.  Heart weighing heavier for every shared breath.

His hand slash down from squeezing their cheeks to grasping their neck. Head flying off like a feather in the wind with a gasp, a desperate attempt to reach for air. Throat quivering underneath his touch. The muscles screaming in agony, echoing from the back of their neck, rushing up to the frontal of their brain. Hurry to panic yet not one movement.

“It’s doc – tor.” The snarl barely makes it through his gritted teeth while Otto corrects his head forward to theirs. His head angled down on their face, analyzing every bit of feature there is to be seen. Smirking once again as he watches Y/N in a rather distressed position, their feet barely hitting the cement, their head turning all shades of red.

They squirm once more. This time it being a softer squeak, followed by the inhaling of his heated breaths. No oxygen to be left in the deep of their lungs, throat choked up with salvia once more, leaving their mouth feeling dry however it’s soaked in drool on the brink of leaking.

Although his mind is at a riot, Otto lets a chuckle escape between his rather chapped lips. He couldn’t deny the warmth their words had brought him. Couldn’t deny the thrill rolling down his spine, leaving goosebumps further down his legs and up his arms.

It’s like his head aches to hear the same words again.

He swallows his pride.

“Say it again.”

His eyebrows at high, fingers pushing his glasses back over the bump of his nose, an impatient tongue sliding along his lips.

“You are… my strange-“

Y/N gasps yet again.

“Addiction.”

“hm?” She turns to look towards the person. Felix. “Yes?”

“Can I get you to go-“

“Woah. I am already getting something for your pregnant lady.” She defensively pulls her hands in the air with a playful smile on her lip. Pepa’s mood had come off on her.

“.. Long time since I’ve seen you seem so carefree!” He notes while he uprights his posture. “But please, señorita, I just need something from the closet by the tower. A mop!”

Y/N looks at her dear male friend. Felix is holding a broom with sweat petals falling off his forehead, his shirt buttoned almost all the way open – he sure looks exhausted and done.

“Okay, fine.”

“Thank you!” he exclaims, buttoning his shirt wide open in attempt to let some cold devour his body, though with the work ahead for him, he is doomed to sweat some more.

Y/N takes in a deep breath before quickly peeking her head in the kitchen, grabbing whatever basket she can, apologizing and explaining to whoever is standing the kitchen without noticing who in an anxious attempt to not be accused of stealing, and then continues back upstairs.

Jumping over the second step, lightly escorting her body up to the second floor, placing this basket by the door into Pepa’s room, and onward to the closet in the furthest back besides the stairs up to Bruno’s tower. Whistling, she pulls open the door, collecting the mop as she was told to do, but something interrupts her high spirit. No, not something, someone. Someone clearing their throat.

She freezes up.

“And who are you?”

This question didn’t sound genuine – this person knows who she is, but it almost feels like they are denying that they do in hopes of hiding… something.

They clear up their throat again.

“Uh- I’m-!” Y/N hurries to get her head out of the closet to look up and back at whoever is talking with her. She knew by the voice, but she must check if she heard right.

And she did hear right. A fragile and formal voice – one that sounds like it has had its debut and now fighting for one yet again. Abuela Alma.

Her face frighteningly judgmental – but not in the way that she is judging, well yes, also in that way, but also in the way that she has already judged. That’s what her tones gives away.

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N- uhm, Pepa and Félix’s’ friend since... long ago?”

She has seen me before… why is she acting so... formal?

“Y/L/N” Her voice almost pierces in the heart of Y/N. “What are you doing in our closet?”

Alma is impossible to read. Maybe not impossible, because there’s no doubt she isn’t in a pleasant mood.  Her eyes are darker than usual, her frown deeper, her tone lower, her shoulders higher and further back, her hands clamped tighter.

“Felix asked me to get something for him.”

“Can’t he get it himself?”

Anxiety growing inside of Y/N’s chest. Somethings off – like she has done something wrong. No, she is sure she has done something wrong; the question is what.

She has never seen Alma be so hostile with another – let alone herself.

There have been times where she has seen Alma yell at the triplets for their wrong doings from inside her own room, and even sometimes right In front of her. The times where Pepa and Julieta made a bit to heavily fun of Bruno to the point of where he has been on the verge of tears or when they’ve been doing everything but their chores – sometimes they even got scolded for leaving their post for 3 minutes. Nevertheless, Alma is never this… displeased.

Y/N is speechless. What is she supposed to say? No? Yes?

The anxiety bubbles and growls drowning any rational thought left.

“Mama! I’m done for today-!” Bruno waddles his way over to the heavy tension. “Wh-whats happening here?”

“Brunito!”

Y/N watches Alma’s attitude change completely. Her shoulders in front, a smile on her lips, eyes wide and awake, hands letting go of each other, and her voice skipping to a higher tone.

What is happening with her?

“...hello…?” He awkwardly responds.

Alma grabs Bruno by his head, pulls him down to kiss his cheeks all lovingly – Bruno highly confused with his face squished in between his mother’s hands.

“I’m just going to get going…” Y/N sneaks her way past the two in a hurried pace, her heart thundering loudly behind her lungs, though it looks as if it was right underneath her skin.

“Wait- mama, I’l be right back-“

“But brunito-“

“Y/N!” Bruno follows the anxious Y/N in a similar pace to hers. He doesn’t know why, but he is doing so for some reason… he thinks.

She doesn’t think twice. She makes her way past Felix, placing the mop by the doorway, and on out. Bruno follows her with no plan thought through.

Y/N goes to the side of casita – the side where there is purely only plants and trees, so she’d be left alone, though Bruno has … other plans?

“Y/N- uh-“

“Why are you following me?”

Bruno freezes in place.

“uh-“ he sure doesn’t know. “uhm-“ what is he supposed to say?

Think, Bruno, think! Come on… come on... what can I say…

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay!”

Yes!

She looks at the bewildered man in front of her, letting her shoulders fall as well as a heartbeat. Staring down Bruno with confusion as the core emotion shining through her pupils.

“…Are you?”

“I uh... guess… yeah...”

Bruno nods to himself, his hands on each his own hips in a confident matter. “Good! … good!” He continues to nod in agreement with his words.

Back again with the pendajo.

“Are you okay?”

The question surprises Bruno.

Why does she are? She cares? I mean I’m okay. Or am I? I’ve been having difficulties. I’m not okay. Or am I? That depends. Does she mean in general? In this situation? Am I overthinking?

Y/N watches as his thoughts tumbles in his head.

“Oh! I still have your clothing! I’m guessing you want them back?”

“what- oH! Oh! Yes! My clothing! Yes!”

It’s like everything clicks in his head. His head pops up from his narrow shoulders and crooked back, his usual awkward smile planting on his face. Y/N giggles at this reaction, leaving his cheeks to… unusually… heat up as well as his ears.

Whatever concern there was before – gone. Worries about Alma. Gone. It’s an indescribable feeling that both Y/N and Bruno are fond of when it comes to simply just communicate together. A unique feeling that they both only meet when it’s meeting one another. Oddly welcoming and warm.

Bruno chuckles, his stomach suddenly bubbling up in a playful way.

“We… can go get it? At my house.” She asks with a slight smile.

“Yes!” It comes out over excited. He clears his throats to hide this. “… yes.”

She laughs yet again. A joyous laugh.

“Okay, Pendajo-“ Her face flushes red. “No! no I didn’t mean it in a bad way! I’m so sorry-“ Y/N is quick to defend her words, hands flaring in the air in panic.

“It’s okay.” He snickers. He actually doesn’t mind. “I’ve been called worse.” Bruno puts a hand to the back of his neck underneath his locks, scratching lightly. “Pendajo just sounds and feel like a nickname by now.”

“oh.” She pulls her hands in to her chest. “I’m still sorry.”

“Apology accepted, señorita.”

Y/N smiles awkwardly towards him. “So… should we get going?”

Pepa smiles at Y/N. “Felix did the sweetest thing!”

“Is that so? What did he do now?”

“Took my chores!”

Y/N laughs at this answer – Pepa sure was an easy woman to please when it was Felix who did it and when she’s close to popping a baby out any moment.

“You shouldn’t be working anyways, Pepa.”

Pepa sits at a chair in the corner, making herself at home in Y/N’s comforting and small store. “You shouldn’t either, can’t you take a day off?”

“Not the first one to ask” The working one stacks her packages on the table closest to the window. “Not possible, sorry.”

“Just one hour?” Pepa pleads, her eyes big towards her friend – the rainbow growing bigger and glowing magnificently more than usually does.

Y/N looks at her with a raised eyebrow with a cloth in her hand, drying them off. “One hour?” She’s almost convinced by this holy angel in front of her. Y/N enjoys hanging out with Pepa, of course she does, but the work is bugging her as always…

One hour won’t hurt…

“Okay fine.”

“Yay!” Pepa sprouts up from the chair – slowly to not hurt herself while having the weight of her belly which almost tips her off balance every second. “Let’s go! Ai, Come on!”

“Okay okay! I just have to-“

“We don’t have time for that!”

“but-“

Pepa drags Y/N out the door, a stubborn woman indeed. She drags her across town towards Casa Madrigal, which is in full gear of everything but relaxing.

Flowers getting replaced and grown by the little Isabela, Julieta standing in the kitchen all exhausted while her husband stands behind her, ready to take over any minute, Felix running around like a dear in headlights, Alma walking across the many floors making sure everybody does their job, and quiet Dolores sneaking around the corners hiding from her cousin, Luisa.

Everyone but Bruno in sight.

Perfect.

“Okay so I was thinking we could do manicures!”

“Pepa, We’re not fi-“

“Ai, don’t be a mood killer!”

“Sorry-“

Pepa continues with dragging her along, pulling her up the stairs and up to her own room. Y/N is a master of not being able to say no, especially to kindness and her friends, which this situation happens to be a case of both.

“What colors do you want your nails?”

“White?”

“No!”

“…Black?”

“No- Do you not know what colors are?!” The pregnant woman stares her down with a frown, arms going from holding her friends to being over cross. Her eyes big and air flowing off her shoulder. The rainbow is gone.

“You didn’t specify!”

“Mhmhm.”

“Mno- Pepa.”

“This is gonna be a long hour. It can’t get worse than this!” Y/N jokes with a hand to her forehead, dramatically throwing it back.

“Ai… Y/N… Be nice to your elders!” She jokes back with rolling eyes.

They join in union of laughter before continuing their way to the front of Pepa’s golden door, chitchatting left and right, completely gone in conversation, unable to notice the mess of a person behind them.

Bruno heard a feminine unknown but known voice and had to check it out to then spot Y/N.

Truth be told, Bruno had spent everyday trying to get a glimpse of her, a bit creepy but what was he supposed to do? Usually he finds approaching strangers easy, knowing the no expectations roaming the air, but this is different. He doesn’t know if they’re strangers – he doesn’t want to be strangers… nevertheless he has no idea how to NOT be strangers with … a stranger – well he does, though something is different about this one, because they’re strangers, right?

Strangers can hug! … And talk!

Although he doesn’t want this to be different… or maybe he does? Maybe he doesn’t want to admit it. It’s a feeling unknown to himself. Not one that has been defined in his head.

He doesn’t want to admit that he has been looking out to the entry to the “spot” every night, while making his usual sleepless night snack. He doesn’t want to admit he has written over 10 ways to start a conversation and practiced them just to make sure. He doesn’t want to admit he forgets to eavesdrop the family’s conversation until the moment her name has been mentioned.

No, he doesn’t want to be strangers. He wants to be friends.

She understood him when they talked - he felt understood.

There’s definitely potential for a friendship!

Bruno decides in his head to approach them, say hi and share a few words, perhaps get a better impression of Y/N with the help of Pepa. But his body decides otherwise.

“hI-“ his voice cracks.

The two turns towards him, their laughs ending, growing curiosity gets placed upon their face expressions as they both lay their heads turned like a chain reaction.

“Yes, mano?” Pepa looks especially curious as well as confused.

“Uh-… What... uh… how’s…the weather?”

That’s weird, he seems oddly nervous… He is never this nervous around me or someone he doesn’t know.

Pepa’s eyes switches from Bruno to Y/N, Y/N to Bruno.

Y/N looks as confused as Pepa, nothing weird to notice, however Bruno on the other hand. His eyes big, cheeks starting to turn red, his hands fumbling with one another, mouth strutting from duck lips to sucked in cheeks and back to his normal awkward smile. He’s lost for words.

“It’s… fine?”

“Perfect! P-Perfect! That’s great. Yep. I’m just going to- The church needs me – you know! Loyal to the church!” Bruno chuckles awkwardly, standing there 1 minute more for a good long and heavy silence, before turning his heels and hurrying downstairs. “BYE-!”

Pepa and Y/N is left there, following the crooked mans silhouette as he leaves casita, mumbling to himself while pulling up his hood.

“Ai… it’s like he doesn’t have a brain sometimes” Pepa shakes her head.

Y/N giggles at this comment. “Oh yeah.”

“… you know?”

“I talked to him once.”

“When?!”

“A week ago.”

Pepa gasps. “And I knew nothing of this?!”

“It’s not a big deal!” Y/N defends herself.

“I know you had a little cr-“

“Okay, enough!”

Pepa laughs with her hand one her belly, eyes squinted, before she realizes the blush that has formed on Y/N’s face and the fact that she is completely silent. It takes her a few seconds before she realizes.

“YOU STILL HA-“

“enouGh- sHHHH!” Y/N interrupt her. “Everyone can hear you!” she whispers while pulling her hood a bit up, trying to hide from the pure embarrassment.

Pepa’s jaw dropped to the floor, she yoinks Y/N into her room – and there the questions flood in.

“For how long?! Why?! … seriously – why?!”

“Dios mío…”

“hm? … oh yeah! Yeah right. Yeah.”

The costumer looks at her suspiciously. “Read it back to me.”

“Jam, Honey, anything jars, roses, chocolates, and hygiene products all collected in one basket.”

“So, you did listen!”

“Yes. But I would advice you to pick apart the hygiene from the food.”

“Hm… I see what you mean...”

Ai, when is this day over…?

“Wake up, tío! Wake up!”

The day just started for the mess of a man, with his niece jumping on the end of his bed in a beautiful purple dress as always. Isabela’s laugh filling the room up.

“erghhh… two more minutes…” He turns over, hiding his head under his flat pillow.

“Nonsense!” The little girl jumps on his back, losing balance and landing right beside him, where Bruno reaches out his arms and grabs her before she Is able to tumble off and hurt herself, pulling her into an embrace.

“Careful, Mi Girasol! You could end up falling!”

“mnO! Because I have an amazing tío!”

“See, I had an exact vision of this!”

“yOU did?!”

“Yes! And you-“ He looks at Isabela, tired, meeting her big joyful smile in return. “-fell!”

Bruno begins tickling his niece, making her giggle and laugh until the point where she is grunting and nearly gasping for air, her tío chuckling in response.

“mnO! Bad tío! Pendajo!”

Bruno gasps loudly. “Who taught you that?!”

Isabela’s arms open wide with an innocent smile, letting her little halo shine brighter. “I heard tía Pepa say it to tío Felix!” She nods to herself.

“You can’t say that!”

“Neither can you! Because you! … You lisp!”

“woAH! Low blow, Mi girasol!”

“Ha! No! You’re just mad because I’m cooler!”

“Since when!”

“since-“ Isabela get’s caught off by her tío starting to tickle her once again, leaving her to laugh loudly as her body cramps together to escape his awful tickles, hiding into his chest and trying to tickle back herself though is left defeated.

In the meanwhile, Isabela is “dying,” Bruno is being attacked by hundreds of roses and other flowers, her powers out of control, drowning both under layers and layers of vines.

“oh no we’re stuck.” He stops tickling her.

“Your fault!”

“No!

“Yuhuh!”

“Nuhuh!”

They break out laughing.

“ISABELA!” A voice from outside yells.

“Shit-“

“gIrAso-“

“soRrY-“

They snicker once again in union, Bruno pushing and pulling the plants off the two of them.

“ISABELA!”

“…ohuh”

“…what did you do?”

“Nothing! It was Dolores!”

He raises an eyebrow at her.

“… it was!”

“Hurry on out before I begin tickling you again!”

“aH-“

And with that Isabela ran out the door, almost losing one of her shoes on the way, though picking them up again with the help of a flower. A graceful move and an impressive way of making running look so elegant.

Bruno left in his usual silent but loud room beneath the stairs up to the vision cave – it’s hidden well, but it sure is there. It being silent in the sense of no life at all besides himself, while the loud sand falls right outside the arch into his room, pilling up almost enough to close the opening yet the sand seems it way to stop right in the doorway.

His room is simple and plain. A one-man bed, that he hasn’t changed since he got his door, with some worn down, green, patterned bed sheets, a side table with a cheerful picture of his family and him back when Isabela got her door, a table with piled up notebooks and regular books, a wooden chair, a red, fabric chair, picture frames and paintings hanging on the walls, and lastly a very old tv-set right in front of the red chair. There is also one more thing to note in his room – besides the many flowers from Isabela – which is the trashcan filled up to the rim with the green glass glistening and luminating that very corner with all the visions he has seen for himself and promised to never touch again.

They aren’t necessarily bad visions, no, they are just plain visions about his own future, but that was perhaps the biggest factor to why he has thrown them out. He’s ashamed of his curiosity, ashamed to have used the power to his benefit, even though it was his and his alone.

The most recent one being one he so happened to have gotten after last night’s events – however something came out of it, he didn’t expect – if he did expect anything at all. The vision was foggy, like the thing he wanted to see was there, but he couldn’t see it, it was too far away and something was in the way, and when he grabbed a hold of the green glass, it was bare and empty – something he hasn’t experienced before.

It might’ve been something with Bruno feeling disconnected yet again from everything – everything being his family, after having been caught by Abuela saying goodbye to Y/N last night.

Bruno thought of all people his mama would understand why he did such a thing as to help her after being the reason to why she had ended up in the situation in the first place, but Alma wouldn’t listen to him. Something had been off with her at that time – Bruno felt invisible towards his own mother, as if his new and fun emotional adventure was … nothing but a … disgrace.

“I can’t believe you, Brunito, I didn’t raise you to be reckless and dumb like this.”

The words circle in his head. Of course, mama had her ups and downs as well as himself, but this felt different – this feels different. She usually never brings up their childhood or the way she raised children.

“Brunito!”

Bruno wakes up from his daze of thoughts, shaking his head as if they were hanging in his uncontrollable hair, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Yes?”

He notices his own lisp; it being highlighted by his niece comment.

“Get up! The town needs you! You can’t sleep all day.”

I can and I want to.

With a foot following the other out of bed, Bruno gets changed from his usual nightwear to a dark dress shirt and dark jeans, rolling up the sleeves to up right before his elbows, grunting his way out the opening and then out to his door.

“I’m up now, mama.”

Alma looks at her son. Softly said, his hair looks like an abomination – a birds nest, if you will. “Ai… mi vida- your hair-“ She tries to fix it for him.

“It’s fine-“

“No.” She continues.

His hair getting fixed to some extent, Alma giving up shortly after a battle with one hair strand, winning, yet somehow the same strand bounces back up to it’s weirdly positioned way of being. A lost cause.

“I’ve tried my best already.” Bruno says trying to lay weight on not lisping, resulting in a weirdly off tone, dark voice that you just hear isn’t his own.

“… what are you doing?”

“Nothing.” His hands fly up, continuing in the same manor with his voice.

“You know I don’t like your whole acting thing, Bruno.”

“I’m not-“ Bruno sighs out. “I’m not…” He abandons it, surrendering to the lisp he always has had.

“Good.” Alma fixes her posture and tries to do so with his. “I have a number of people who wants help with a vision. Start from an end to the other. Here’s a list.”

Why is she treating me like I can’t take care of myself? Like a child?

“But I-“

“But?”

Bruno sighs once more.

Since last night, besides the encounter with mama and the blurred vision, all there has been on his mind has been this desire to go over and talk with Y/N. He feels pulled to it like a plus to a minus magnet, it’s been growing and growing ever since.

Last night while he laid his head on his pillow, he promised himself to go over and check up on her, since her behavior changed from happy to … mentally gone… after that one shower. It might not be a big deal and most likely not his business, but he is still up and about it in his own head.

Nevertheless – Bruno has chores to do, there right in front of him.

Another stressful “costumer. “

I wonder if she’s okay.

“Okay. I need 6 jams, 3 for strawberry, 3 for mixed berries, 2 honeys, uhmmm..” Y/N checks off her list of groceries for each basket.  

“Perhaps a break from work?”

She looks up with a raised eyebrow.

The man she is talking to is her childhood friend, Donatello, the one she mistaken Bruno for yesterday. Their brains work like ying and yang, like a sun on a cloud free sky – They think alike, and they always have thought alike, well, that is what you get when you have the exact same childhood.

“Says you, gilipolat.”

“Woah! That adds to the bill, señorita.” Tello chuckles and fetches the jars she needs.

“Watch it or you won’t get the leftovers.” Y/N rolls her eyes looking at her list once again. “Sirup too. 5.. maybe 6.”

“6?! How many customers are waiting?”

“Enough for me to not have time for your babbling.”

“Okay. Okay! I get it.” He snickers underneath his breath. “It’ll be 35”

Y/N pulls up her pouch and gives him the amount that he needs and a bit more. “Keep the tip”

“Oh, so generous!”

“Shut it, gilipolat!”

She collects her things and puts them in her net, stuffing the pouch back in her pocket, ignoring the big grin that is growing on her friends face for some apparent reason. Not his usual grin – this one seems more mischievous.

“SO…”

“No, Tello! I have work!”

“That’s a lie!”

“Does it look like a lie?”

He shuts up for a moment, tapping his finger on his wooden counter, looking at her from top to toe. The smirk on his face pushing his cheeks further and further apart. Y/N can’t see but hear his foot is tapping too as if he expects her to say something, but she can’t figure out why – or even bother to know why.

“Okay, goodbye, Tello.”

“Mhm. Of course.”

“… Mhm.”

“… So who were you with last night-“

Mierda.

“…what?”

“I saw you walk in wayyy to big clothing.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Mhm, yes I did.”

“He is no one-“

“Okay so it’s he… I see... I see...”

“No-“ Y/N almost throws her arms up in defeat, but the weight from her groceries weighs them back down. An irritated expression appearing on her face. “It’s none of your business!”

“Your business is my business.”

“No it’s not.”

“Do I need to quote our ‘best friend rule book’?”

“Tello-“

“Ahem- ‘my casita is your casita. My head is your head. My secret is our secret.’ Shall I continue?” Tello raises his already arched eyebrow.

“Stop it! It’s nothing.”

“Mhm. Sure.”

“It was just some pendajo who stumbled into me and let me borrow his shower in return.”

“Oh yeah totally believable story.”

“I’m not lying!”

Tello slides over the counter, standing in front of Y/N, grabs a hold of her shoulders and spins her around slowly, checking her pants by pulling and poking. His eyes squinted and his head visible empty with no thoughts behind his almond eyes.

“Your pants doesn’t to be on fire-“

“They’re not.”

“Well you see-“

“Tello.” Y/N smacks his shoulder, looking at him in disappointment.

Donatello has long, dark dreadlocks, a big and wide nose, black eyebrows, deep brown skin color, and a goatee, as well as a horrible style of clothing – or that’s what Y/N thinks, when he is most likely the most fashionable man in town which he happens to be known for, besides of being the store’s owner.

He’s different from the rest, stands out very quick. His parents are refugees that had come to the old village not even close to a month before the attack, where they followed Alma and Pedro to the miracle. They had run away from Africa, to Europe then landed here where they are now – Y/N never got told the reason to why they did so, but it seemed to be something they never spoke about again.

It doesn’t matter anyway, she is just happy that Tello were there when they landed in the Encanto – or were born into the town, because he has always been there for her.

Where Y/N is the helper to the people, directly a people pleaser, Tello was the helper for her and her only, ‘a Y/N pleaser’ as he like to call it.

They’ve been through everything together and continues to go through it together, and so it will always be. They made a list of rules and promises back when they were around 8, that they sure will remember till forever and its end.

One of these rules being to not lie unless their pants are on fire.

“I’m not lying.”

“Okay, fine, I believe you… - If you tell me who it is.”

“Never.”

“Oh no! My heart! It shatters!”

Y/N lets out a light laugh.

“Aha! See I knew you weren’t cold.”

“Okay that’s enough.”

“Fine…” Tello sighs. “Are you at least better now?”

“I guess so…” Y/N rolls her eyes in defeat.

“Yes!”

She’s okay now.

“Yes. I’m cold” She softens her inner voice. Y/N can’t just express that she is pissed in the first place – the man just got done crying, she doesn’t want to be the reason for his third time.

“I would offer my ruana- but you know… heh… it’s uh- it’s covered in mud – and-and I don’t know if that’s better or worse- you know worse than soaked clothing, like-like yours… heh- I mean unless you-“

“No, it’s fine.”

How can she be pissed at him? You can clearly tell he is trying his best.

I’m overreacting again… he is at least trying. Or… well he is trying to try, I guess.

“…I’m sorry – again – I really didn’t mean to-“

“It’s okay, señor-“

“I can replace the book for you! That was what you dropped, right?”

“N-… yes, yes it was.”

“I can buy you a new one! I promise!” He insists eagerly, drying his last tears off his face.

Y/N looks back at him.

His eye looking extremely horrible in comparison to the other, face lightly bloated from the breakdown episode, hair unusually tamed by the dripping mud almost like hair gel would do, and his expression forming into a soft and worried frown.

Something Y/N never will admit, is that she does and has always found this dork of a man, Bruno Madrigal, charming and … “an okay amount of attractive.,” And this attraction somehow raises in this very moment, her eyes fixated on the concerned look. But with her parents hanging around her neck, she never wanted to admit it and sure won’t do it any time soon. If anything, it was only a slight crush that has come and gone, she knew it wasn’t going to be more – she makes sure it doesn’t go further than that.

Though one thing she can’t hide, is the softened feeling of emotions she is having – not necessarily crushing but a more of a friend to a friend troubled feeling. A tiny concern about one another’s’ health.

From a towns person to the other.

“W-why don’t you have sh-shoes on?” She notes.

“Uh- … well- you see-… I don’t really have the best reason, though I’m guessing you would believe me if I did.”

“…w-what?”

“No- I mean- As in IF-“ He fumbles with his words.

Y/N can’t help but to chuckle, a small smile forming on her lips. This makes Bruno nervously laugh along, copying the tiny grin. A light breeze of joy hitting the tension off its balance.

“Uhm..- It was more of a- You.. you know like a sneak method! Like a spy from one of those action movies!” A weight lifts off his heart, making him feel more freely to express himself, the grin only widening as to see her reaction.

“S-so you were s-spying on m-me?” The shivering Y/N giggles.

“N-NO! Not like that- I mean it is like that but not really-“ His words goes from walking to running as well as his feet, making it hard for Y/N to catch up.

“Señor- i-it’s okay!”

“… dios mío, you’re really freezing, señorita”

“well duh, yo-you pushed me into t-the pond-“

“iM soRRY!”

They break out in laughter, Y/n laying a supporting hand on his shoulder, making Bruno blush slightly. Y/N doesn’t notice the red tone because of the light still being nonexistent, but she was more than grateful for that because she’s also blushing lightly, and who were she if she didn’t hide her true feelings?

The two of them reaches the tail of the long grass path and continue towards la casita, everybody else still sound asleep. Their voices automatically deaden as they reach the back door into the kitchen, it swinging open by itself.

“Thank you, casita” Bruno whispers as the lights turns on by itself, letting the two messy looking people get a sight of how much chaos they’ve been through within the last hour.

Y/N still wet as can be, soaked in both water and mud – her face barely visible though her tiny smile making it through the dirt upon her face.

Bruno bruised and his posture weaker than before, also disappearing in layers of mud however somehow his face hasn’t been hit – besides actually being hit – other than phantom trails of tears.

“Yo-You look horrible” She blurt out.

“I-Im sorry?”

“No! not like that! Imean–“ Y/N stops herself. “You need something to eat.”

“Oh… OH! Oh yeah. Yeah. My eye. Right.”

And as it was being said, Casita pushes another batch of Julieta’s wonderful arepa con queso towards the two of them as well as salt. Both grabbing one each and taking a bite – their bruises disappearing as if they were just a sticker upon their skin.

Bruno sigh out, relieved from pain. Y/N’s teeth still chattering.

“oh gee- I’m sorry- do you want a shower? You can borrow ours-“

“No I’ll-“ Y/N interrupts her own train of thought as she catches Bruno’s almost pleading look. She couldn’t say no. “… O-okay-“

“Perfect! UH... I’ll go grab some clothing for you! Wait, you don’t know where the shower is- Uhm- It’s down the- uh-“ He stammers. “Just follow me” He gives up.

And as told, Y/N follows Bruno down the hall and into a bathroom on the second floor, leaving trails of mud and pools of water behind them.

“You just hop in, I’ll slide the stuff in. Take what you need in there.” He insists.

It’s not often Bruno has someone to talk with – someone his age that is – so he leaves quite ecstatic, shoulder up high, leaving the poor Y/N quite confused.

He is so welcoming…

She steps into the bathroom, closing the door behind her, finding her way to the off section which seems to be the shower part.

… and awkward.

Y/N chuckles to herself and goes on with showering.

Perhaps she was getting the break she wanted and so desperately needed anyway. A nice hot shower – in a stranger’s house, no, not a stranger, the Madrigals house. And she isn’t there because of her friend Pepa or Felix, she’s there because of the one and only Bruno.

Her head fills up with thoughts as the mud floods off her body. The warm streams of water tangling from her shoulders down to both her fingertips and toes. Complete relaxation despite the weird circumstance.

Though the moment of relaxation finds its end quicker than she thought it would.

A grunt, as well as a door opening can be heard from the other side of the room. Y/N quickly hides behind the wall, protecting her from exposing her completely naked body. The grunt turns into a toilet seat opening as well as a yawn and humming – the shower still running.

How can’t this person hear that someone is in here?!

This person that has entered the bathroom is Felix – a half awake Felix. A Felix who hasn’t noticed there is someone in there with him. A Felix that is wondering why there is mud flowing the floor and why his feet were now filthy with it. A Felix now noticing Y/N’s remarkable dress.

Such a unique dress she has.

Felix smiles to himself with a nod, finishing his business and washing his hands, still humming quietly.

And there Y/N is, staring Felix down in the mirror, where she is on there for him to see – if he could, which surprisingly, he doesn’t.

Y/N’s heartbeat raising by the second, almost slipping with her feet, and yet Felix simply just walks out, continuing out to his beloved wife’s door like nothing happened. Y/N left in light shock, still processing what just happened.

Is she more surprised that the pendajo didn’t notice anything or is it the Pepa printed boxers he was wearing? No matter the cause, she is still left speechless.

Y/N quickly gets done washing herself, putting on the clothing Bruno has come with. A wine-red shirt of his as well as a pair of new boxers and dark grey sweatpants. She’s hesitant with the boxers though the fact that they look … and smell… brand new convinces her to put them on.

Outside the door is Bruno found sitting and waiting like a guard dog. His head skipping thoughts left and right, slight guilt and unsureness roaming the corners of his brain though at some parts wonderous and joyful.

He has only just met this Y/N that Pepa and Felix has talked so godly about and yet now he wishes to spend more than every minute getting to know her. A rapid curiosity that he has yet to have experienced before, exciting his whole heart, making it pump blood faster.

The thoughts bubble.

What does she do with her free time? Is she always at the pond at night? Who’s her friends? Do I know her family? Have I ever met her parents before? What does she think of me? What’s her favorite song? When is she done showering?

It’s as if it was a queue, for in the moment his thought ends Y/N steps out of the door beside him, dressed in his clothing - something was different about her, something he hasn’t seen before. Her face was rushed red, eyes open wide with a glass like look. Embarrassed.

“…  is-is something wrong?” he asks, the curiosity still popping inside his chest.

A minute went by of silence. Her mood and aura have completely changed. She isn’t wearing her weightless and gleeful face.

“No.. no nothing!”

“oh.. oh okay!” He stands up, looking her in the eyes. Big mistake. The same blush infects Bruno’s cheeks fast and leaving him to a stuttering mess, the confidence he had built up completely gone. “uh-“

“Maybe I should… get going”

“Yeah maybe- I mean- Definitely- no – not like that- I mean-“

The awkwardness lays heavy on the conversation.

“Im just… gonna… go..”

“Yeah totally. Mhm.” He nods, his hand sneaking behind his head.

“… yeah… bye-“

“I will see you! … or not! Or- if you want to- I mean-“

And with that, Y/N awkwardly leaves.

That went… great.

“…Who was that?” A voice sounds.

No… not everybody.

“What if I just… wore silencing shoes! Or none! Then I wouldn’t be noticed. Could that be it?” Bruno argues with himself.

He feels restless as always, though tonight it’s especially hard to sleep for him. Not for any apparent reason he can put words on – It was just hard. Perhaps it’s the burden of knowing what’s to come next – or the exact opposite. Bruno could know what’s t come but he is too scared to see because he knows what happens when people get their future told, and he can’t risk his self-worth any more than he does.

“Where do I even get such shoes? Marco? … heh… Polo?” The man walks around the kitchen chuckling in search of a midnight snack, which in doing so he looks out through the window from where he is standing in front of a kitchen counter.

That’s when he spots the candlelight.

What is that?

Y/N hopping by the last few sprouts that lead up to the small pond, humming and lightly bobbing with her head of course doesn’t notice the middle-aged man. She was lost in thought like a needle in a haystack, thinking about the ways of plants and what not. Everything but work. This is her only break and she sure damn will appreciate it.

She has always felt trapped in stress and pressure from being the daughter of her oh so wonderful parents, but now when mama died a few years ago and papa retired, barely hanging on to a thread, the whole business of theirs and responsibilities were laid upon their kid, Y/N Y/L/N.

Though Y/N never complains, how could she? A well-rounded business with decent pay and a respectable social status just being dropped in her hands without a sweat drop from her. She is grateful, of course she is, but as well as a decent future in front of, there is also a reassured stress to be for every hour awake, and well – being Y/N, kind-hearted, it’s doomed to be hard.

She has a dream of a family, however not just any family – a family LIKE the Madrigals. That doesn’t mean she wants children – or a whole family tree for that matter – Y/N just wants a place to call home where she can hear other sounds than that stupid grandfather clock.  It also means that she doesn’t necessarily want to be a part of the Madrigals, even though that’s what her parents always wanted her to be.

All the times where they tried to convince her to talk with Bruno Madrigal – going all the way back when she was 5, Bruno being 10 at the time – but what did her parents think? Poor Bruno was always occupied, busy – maybe that was why they liked him, because he was and are like them. No matter what it wouldn’t have been something, he was five years older. That difference may look okay now but back then it was a horribly big difference, her parents HAD to give up. And they did.

No, all Y/N wants is peace and silence, and that is what she intended to get here by the pond. Emphasis on intended.

The trees dance in the wind, letting go of their weak leaves and letting them get on with their own short-timed life to create anew. A hoard of pond skaters levitating on the black mirror surrounded by high clutches of bullrushes. Butterflies flying in between the tall grass in search of nectar.

Y/N makes her way through the trampled pathway leading from behind the trees to a dilapidated bench by the beautiful pond. The wooden bench being overgrown in light moss with vines crawling from the feet to the backrest.

The only thing odd about this gorgeous nature scene is the seemingly misplaced picnic basket beside the furthest, steel foot of the bench, though it accents the mood, lightening it.  

The feminine figure sits down and picks this weaved basket up, pulling out a rather thick book wrapped in leather to protect it from the bugs living around the area. Her body going from tense to relaxed within few seconds, placing the light besides her and pulling her hood off.

This is where Bruno, the one and only prophecy man makes a mistake of moving his foot behind the other. He had followed her through the trees as fast and quiet as he could, making an effort in trying out his “quiet feet”-no-shoe method, however the thought had maybe its faults here and there for he had bare feet, exposed to all sharp things – and well he so happens to be in between bushes.

The quiet feet idea perhaps wasn’t the…

“DIOS MíO- OW-“

… best.

In shock Y/N throws her book out in front of her, it landing mid pond, sinking to the bottom in matter of seconds, knocking the light over besides her together with the basket. The candle rolling into the edge of the water, making it go out – leaving the two shocked figures in the dark.

Bruno hopping on one foot, his balance out of control, and Y/N searching for her light source so she can see whoever interrupted her peace. Two does struggling to stand on ice – or rather the mud around the little water hole.

“AI-“

“Where is-“

And there the two clash.

Bruno lost his battle to balance, making him fall face first towards the pond, the poor Y/N mid standing-up motion getting overthrown by the much heavier impact motion landing right in top of her. Her back planting straight down the filthy mud while his whole front body hits hers, rolling slightly off to the side right beneath the tip of the bench.

In response of falling Bruno grabs what’s closest, unfortunately for both Y/N and him – he grabbed onto the person right beside him.

“Get OFF!”

“SORRY!”

Of course, Y/Ns’ body flight or fight reaction activates quicker than any rational thought, so what follows doesn’t hold a single thought-process other than “escape and survive.”

“ArGh-“ Her hand slams harshly into Bruno’s already weak chest, making the poor man cram together, his head hitting into what appears to be “the other persons” shoulder blade.

“AUCH!” His hand pulls towards his now hurt eye socket, dashing Y/ns’ side in the process.

“OW!”

Their screams and yells out of pure pain and panic repeats and repeats until Bruno finally let’s go of her, in which Y/Ns’ body loses all sense of balance, rolling – no gliding - into the pond. Bruno left with both his eye and chest aching in pain, now grabbing onto the bench, grounding and stabilizing him, while Y/N splashes her way up and out of the pond, luckily for her it’s not even knee-deep.

A moment of silence and panting as well as light moaning gets the two of them to a point of somewhat calmness – at least enough to speak to each other.

“Who are you?!” Y/N yells out, rubbing her eyes trying to get a vision of his silhouette, though with the trees above tightly closing in under the sky, the moons light doesn’t reach them beneath.

“Eh-“ He groans in response, head not working quite right.

“Why were you spying on me?!”

“I- You see-“

“No forget that-“

“O-Okay-“

Y/N rubs her eyes again.

“Who are you?! … Is it you Donatello?!”

“Who’s Donatello?!”

The confusion and frustration hanging heavily, though with a bit of luck, the wind takes a hold of the leaves above them, letting the light hit just the right number of seconds for both to see who the other is.

And with that, they call out in union.

“You?!”

You have to be kidding me.

Y/N looks around shortly for her things. All she wants now is a break from this break, to run away and hide, but without wanting to admit it, Y/N was embarrassed rather than pissed, though her words and thoughts convince otherwise.

Bruno on the other hand – the last person to be able to hide his feelings, which is ironic to some points. No, he isn’t pissed, why would he be? However, he was not embarrassed either, no, he is beyond that. An indescribable feeling that builds for every silent moment he feels her eyes eyeing him in raw anger.

“I’m sorry- I’m so so so sorry-“ Bruno apologizes while the pain in his eye starts getting worse.

The light hits him once again, which is where Y/N spots Bruno’s eye. Swollen, starting to miscolor, a sprung blood vessel, and starting to fill up with tears in the corner of both his eyes.

“I’m sorry- I just saw you and I thought ‘Hey Bruno lets go and-“

“Your eye!”

This takes Bruno by surprise. In matter of few seconds Y/N’s face expressions goes from mad to concerned – but not concerned in a way that it seems pretentious or … meaningless. This is a different look. A genuine worried and shocked look. A face he hasn’t seen on a person in years, not one that has been towards himself and not the others around him who’s been a victim to his chaos of a life.

“Are you okay?” Y/N selflessly forgets herself in a act of kindness, moving her body towards him to get a closer look. “It looks serious!”

Bruno is left speechless with emotions overwhelming him more than he already is. The feeling of being overstimulated rushing over him making him break. Tears spilling out in two waterfalls.

“I- Sorry-“ Is the only few whines that is able to leave his lips.

“It’s okay”

And as if you wouldn’t think it’s possible, Bruno cracks open in two once again.

“Do-Do you need a hu-“

And with that, the chaos comes to the last finishing climax. Bruno latches onto Y/N quicker than he is able to think about his actions, pulling her extremely close.

Y/N surprised and concerned returns the favor after a few seconds of reacting time.

The night still young, wind blowing above them, flashing light upon the top of their heads, grass tumbling together with the whistling leaves, though it is as if time stops.

Bruno caught up in emotions trying to deal with them and his aching pain in his eye. And although his body rings in agony, he feels strangely glad. It feels for him that he is finally able to exist, that he is finally more than a miracle or perhaps less of a miracle. Enough to feel human and being so with a stranger.

He feels at home.

“Do you think señora Julieta perhaps some food we could get to heal you…?”

With a smile he goes to her room, carefully tiptoeing not wanting to wake up his goddess of a niece or perhaps it was because he wants to avoid the family. Don’t get him wrong, Bruno loves his family – more than anything in the world, but with being the so-called burden of the whole family, he can’t bear to disappoint more than he already has this very day. Even though he only did good – maybe he wants to savior the moment of an almost victorious stress-free day, maybe not.

Nobody understands him, not even himself. It’s been so for forever. Worse around his oh so perfect sisters (I love them! I do! They love me! … They… love me?) Worse around anyone begging him for a view upon their future (They’re going to hate me, aren’t they? Maybe not hate...! I hope not.)

Though this burning hatred that he has had, and he believes to will be having forever, fades once Isabela is there for him. And with this feeling beginning to be nonexistent in the moment, makes him wonder if there is more out there other than just here.

He loves to love, he hates to hate – like any other human being, however he wonders if this family could be causing more … feeling … or perhaps less than an average person in town?

Of course, Bruno has found Isabela, his safe place and comfort, but was she really going to be the only person out there, there was going to be that?

Bruno’s head full of unanswered questions as he lays Isabela on her bed, tucking her in and then turning his heel once again.

Was she really it? Is this what life had in stall for me? Of course, I don’t mind but… really?

He sighs.

I wouldn’t want to lose what I have. I am grateful with what I have!

He looks back at Isabela. Her hair so effortlessly framing her face gracefully, skin glistening in the dim light, and her cute, little snores almost harmonizing with the sound of her bed swinging back and forth.

Bruno is grateful for her.

“Mi Girasol…”

His heels turning to Isabela once more, hand brushing her hair off her forehead.

I am grateful for you, Isabela.

“That surely did take its time. Ai, Y/N, did you do it last minute yet again?” Luciana can see the stress’ marks that it had left behind on Y/N’s joyful face in all types of ways. Sweat, all kinds of colors stained up her arms and cheeks, dirt almost functioning as natural bronzer, and… was that a tear?

“No, señora, I-“

Luciana sends her a glare, capable of killing a hoard of cows and sure will kill a person, let alone vulnerable Y/N. She crosses her arms and look her up and down. “Dios mìo, Y/N.”

“I’m… sorry.” Y/n hesitates, putting on an angel-like look, the halo barely there to be seen however you can easily imagine one gleaming above her messy up-do of hair. “The… basket? :D”

Luciana grabs the basket by its handles. “Get cleaned up, Y/N, I expect you to be ready in 5”

“5?!”

And there the frightening glare comes yet again. Almost like a laser beam cutting over the tension like it was nothing, though the thickness growing.

“5- 5 is fine! Pshh… easily.” Y/n tries to resurrect her now dissembled confidence.

“4.”

“AI! Okay! I- “

“Hurry!”

And with that, Y/N’s own door gets shut in her face. The clock immediately offering her to dance along to the loud ticking from the grandfather clock, intimidatingly raising it’s whispering for every second that passes, and she has yet to be done. Time pressuring her in between suffocating walls closing around her.

And while Y/N yet again stresses her way through her perhaps last living seconds, life at la casita seems to be for once calmer.

“Dolores, take your cousin Louisa to her room, get her dressed, will you?” Abuela says while she puts out the last few plates on the wooden table.

“Si, abuela!”

“Oh, let med help you, Abuela!” Felix swoons in, grabbing the silverware with his as usual big smile. His curls bouncing carelessly as he hums and sways around.

Perfect melody caressing the already cheerful and calm atmosphere.

The kids playing alongside la casita and changing Louisa, small pep talks and playful aura. Felix helping abuela with the table, chatting about what’s to come. Pepa sitting together with Julieta in the kitchen, exhausted as two pregnant women can be. Agustine running back and forth taking order on how to cook the food by the two women, slightly stressed but in a controlled kind of way.

Everybody was happily helping.

Actually… not… everybody.  

The everybody was missing – and by that, I mean that the everybody we were missing were Bruno. Bruno, the distant and most misunderstood family member. The goofy uncle. The clumsy brother. The “fortune teller.” The only single within his sibling circle, and he sure did make way for that to stay the truth for eternity and on.

Bruno is an introverted extrovert, a man true to his word – literally. He is the Madrigal that can tell you what’s ahead and what to be aware of, and although his gift is as incredible as the others’, people tend to forget he doesn’t control the future, he merely predicts it – and once predicted, there won’t be a lot to do to avoid such circumstance.

Let’s say – he isn’t everybody’s favorite madrigal – if anyone’s.

And the truth is, he is hated for what he can’t change, for what is supposed to be his “gift.” People bothered by him every day, not to mention the long walk up the stairs in his room to then just find out the future isn’t exactly what you hoped.

The only person who doesn’t seem to be affected by this fact is the man himself. Bruno Madrigal. The third triplet.

No, today he is completely unbothered.

Shoulders up high, heel after heel leading him down to the kitchen into the comforting energy and wonderful smell of menu del día. A grin shining from his rather tired looking face.

“Hello there famili-!”

And with that short sentence the atmosphere changes.

“Maldit-“

“Language!”

A pan falls, food flying in the air. Agustine barely on his feet grabbing out and trying to clasp around anything to support him. Rattling kitchen tools landing on the floor, la casita catching every single piece.

“What is happening?!”  Abuela yells.

“Ai, low voice, abuela!” Pepa shrieks as she covers her ears and as she does, tea spills all over her and Julieta’s lap, granted to be a 1st degree burn at least.

“Mi vida-!”

“OW!”

In the background, out from the furthest back of the building in the nursery room, a crying Luisa and a whining Dolores apologizing over and over can be heard as loudly as if they were right in the room beside them.

“Mama!! Tia Julieta! Luisa is impossible!”

“MAMA! DOLORE-“

“SHHH, LuiSA-“

“Girls! Quiet down!” Abuela yells yet again.

“Abuela!” Pepa, Julieta and Felix say in union.

That’s when Bruno reads the queue to leave. The smirk he had washed away together with his uplifting shoulders. Now both were hanging as low as his eye bags. Whatever glee he had saved up to give onto his family is gone.

His heels turning and leading him on out the door, out to in front of the house. La casita making sure the door opens and closes in a quick pace to help him out.

“Way to go, Bruno…” He mumbles to himself while he clenches his fists.

La casita concerningly lift bricks beneath him, nudging him to his sides, a caring move to show that it cares about him. Bruno of course understands this.

“I’m fine, casita.”

The house once more nudges him on. Clinking trying to communicate with this gloomy figure upon its body – trying is the key word.

The man pushes a hair strand behind his ear and fixes his clothing. Pushing his feet into his sandals further just to make sure they were on right. He doesn’t want to make himself look more of a fool.

“Who would ever think that Bruno was ever a good person? Not the atmosphere!” Bruno says to himself, turning his head to the side, kicking a stone off the step.

He puts upon his hood. “We think you’re a good person!” he imitates a strange voice.

“Yes, we do!” Yet another strange voice comes out of him.

Bruno sighs to himself. “Thank you, Hernando and Jorge.” He pulls his hood off again, hair poofing to every direction.

“Who’s… Hernando?” A voice sneaks up on Bruno – No, doesn’t sneak. It has been standing there, watching him the whole time. The time being from when he stepped out to now. And to surprise, this voice isn’t just something he is making up, it’s in front of him. The it being a her, a woman, Y/N Y/L/N.

“Uh- eh-“ Bruno stammers, his hands clamming to each other, anxiously fiddling with one another, trying to come up with a response. “Hernando- is-… eh-“

Y/N tilts her head, looking curiously on the mentally troubled man in front of her. Popcorn thoughts beginning to pop left and right.

God, he looks tired. Is he okay? Is it the way I look? Is he looking at me at all? Do I have dirt on my face? Did I leave the shower running?

“you see... he is- uh- no its more of uh-“ Bruno fumbles with his words, wheeling his now sweaty hands around trying to refresh his brain, start a chain reaction of thoughts in his head, however he is left with an empty mind and one thought alone.

Who is she?

The two staring at each other, silence growing bigger for every awkward “eh” leaving Bruno’s lips. His face copying the tension, reddening every inch of his mocha-colored skin. Y/N’s head building up to a pile of popcorn corns, popping on top of the other, filling up until there is no room for more.

“Bruno?”

“Eh-“ He pulls a hand to the back of his head.

A crowd forms behind the feminine figure in front of Bruno. The towns people carrying sparkling smiles and joy filled eyes as well as a present for each 7th head, all coming towards la casita.

“Oi! Y/N!”

Y/N? Oh! I know! Y/n Y/L/N! Of course… of course…

Bruno claims his mental victory with a small smirk sprouting upon his tomato head, almost forgetting the awful and painful – awkward and confusing – atmosphere. Almost.

“Bruno, what are you tryi-“ Y/N’s head still tilted though now her body turned slightly towards the person calling her name.

“Bruno! Where are you! Bru- Where is he when you need him?!” Bruno hears Pepa speak in a rather defeated tone from behind the doors, the ones he is almost leaning up against in search out of the situation.

“Oh! You hear that- someone is calling- better go now! Sorry!” He hurries to open the door. “Sorry! Sorry!” And as fast as he opened the door, as fast he closes the door. “Sorry!”

“Tïo Bruno!” Isabela exclaims out of surprise looking at her crow-backed uncle hiding behind the big wooden door.

Bruno jolts up and turns quickly on his heels once again. And although he is fast acting, he uses a good 5 seconds before having a reaction to his little niece.

“Tìo-“

“If it isn’t the birthday girl!” His arms spread out, ready to receive a hug from his dear niece. “Come on, give tìo Bruno a hug.”

The girl runs towards her uncle, jumping into a soft embrace leading into a twirl full of giggles and chuckles. Bruno holding Isabela up in the air, acting as if she weighed nothing though his scrawny and thin arms aching to let go.

“Happy birthday, mi Girasol!” He blissfully says with his smile growing wider, examining his nieces gorgeous face decorated in flowers. “What a beautiful get up!”

Isabela giggles. “You’re missing something!”

“Oh?”

And with a swish she grows a flower to put behind Bruno’s ear under his disaster of curls. “You look so pretty! Like a princess!”

“I’m a princess? Mi Girasol, it’s your birthday! You’re the princess.”

“No you are!”

“I am?”

“You are a pretty princess!” Her eyes big with an irresistible pout.

Bruno laughs light-heartly. “Fine. I’m a pretty princess.” He rolls his eyes jokingly.

They join in for another close embrace.

Isabela has always seen the good in Bruno although everybody told her otherwise. When Bruno is at his lowest, she would and still will always come to rescue with her vaguely bad jokes that they - despite the quality of the joke not always being good – will no matter the time or space laugh about and enjoy together. The two of them has always had an unspoken bond that originated from back when Isabela could first understand words. Ironically the most loved and the most … unliked… family member of the whole bunch.

The one thing Bruno has, that no other can claim to have and is envied.

“Awwwww!” The crowd awes in union.

Without the two noticing, la casita had let the doors open wide, letting the town people see the sweet sentimental moment between the two opposites poles.

“diOS Mío!” Bruno clenches on tight to Isabela, hiding her in his arms like he is protecting her as a mother bear would protect a cub from a threat. His anxious heart pounding fast.

“It’s alright, tío Bruno!” Isabela snickers.

“nO-“ His voice cracks.

“We have gifts for the birthday chica, Isabela” Y/N sparkle.

“PRESENTS!” Isabela yells excitedly, wiggling her body out of Bruno’s hug to run out and collect her gifts.

Bruno forced to let go, turning his heels yet again to meet the same face as he did before. The woman he had heard so much about from his sister Pepa and her husband Felix.  Y/N Y/L/N. A name assigned to the right owner, a puzzle piece finding it’s place within the others around.

So, this is Y/N Y/L/N.