Make You Smile (Camilo Madrigal x Reader)

You Have to be Joking

He looked out through the thick mass of trees, contemplating one last time, before getting up and gesturing for casita to help him down back to his room.

You once again struggled to open your eyes as you slowly regained consciousness.

This time, there was no rattling. No bumping, no shaking.

Instead, the smell of old wood and dust hit you like a tidal wave, your senses tingling as you came back to them.

As you realized that your eyes were opening, you noticed there was no fabric. No darkness.

You could see your surroundings for the first time in what seemed like forever. You tried to focus as your fuzzy vision grew clearer.

You were inside a house.

A shed?

It wasn't familiar, but you were glad you were at least given back your sight.

The dark wood around you was old and decrepit, thick cobwebs lining every touching corner. There was one small window at the door which allowed the midday light to shine through. Part of the pane had been smashed.

You couldn't tell if it was a recent breach, but you believed it might have been. The glass shards that lay on the floor were not covered with the dirt that would have collected there if it had been more than a few days.

You attempted to stand, but were not surprised to find yourself bound to an old pipe.

It's pretty old, you thought. Maybe I can pull myself out of it.

You pulled out all kinds of flexibility you had, turning yourself towards the wall and placing your feet flat on the wall. You pushed as you felt your wrists tighten, the ropes resisting as you tried to push away from the pipe.

You could hear faint creaks as the pipes' attachment grew weak, prompting you to push harder.

Almost there.

"Y/N!"

You froze in place, not craning your neck to look back.

"Benjamín," you coldly replied.

"Lower your feet, Y/N," he demanded, his voice still and low.

"Now." Benjamín's voice grew louder, but not angrier. In fact, you felt as though you could hear fear in his words.

You compliantly lowered your feet off the wall, glueing them to the ground.

"Turn around," he continued.

You slowly brought your tied arms over your head, doing the opposite as you did to face the wall in the first place. You sat criss-cross as you let your arms rest behind your back once more.

"Good," Benjamín said, masking his relief with false confidence.

"What's that in your hands?" You scornfully ask, looking up at him through your shabby hair and dark eyes.

Benjamím looked down at the bowl of liquid in his hands, his eyes widening as if he had forgotten it was there.

"This is for you," he said, walking towards you and lowering the bowl down to your mouth.

You pulled your head back, hesitant and resistant to whatever substance he was trying to give to you. It could be poison for all you know. Not that you really cared, you didn't want anything he gave you.

He forced it to your lips, a gulp entering your cheeks. You held it there, giving Benjamín a look of disgust as he watched you with the, still full, bowl in his hands, ready to bring it to your lips again.

You tried to think of anything. Anything that could potentially get you out of there. Anything to create a diversion.

You looked at Benjamín with daggers in your eyes, staring directly at his regretful expression.

The sound of spraying filled the room as you spat the clear liquid that filled your mouth straight at his face.

Water dripped down his jaw, the whole room going still as he processed what had just happened.

Without getting up, he took the bowl forcefully back up to your lips, making you drink it.

Well, that backfired.

"It's water, Y/N," he said with a raised volume. "I'm trying to help you."

You had no choice but to force down the water he was shoving into your mouth.

"You, help me?" You said sarcastically through gulps, water falling out of your mouth.

"It's the best I could do," he replied, a softer hint to his tone than before.

"Really? Oh, that's funny," you said through a scoff. "Kidnapping didn't make that list?"

His brows wrinkled as he stood up, taking the empty bowl with him. He didn't reply to your snarky comment.

"Benjamín," you called out as he approached the rickety door. He froze in place, slowly turning his head to the side to look at you through his peripheral vision.

"How many days has it been?"

He sighed, putting his hand on the doorknob. He twisted it slightly, freezing once again as if he were in a battle with himself.

"It's only the next day. Hasn't even been 24 hours," he said quietly as he made his way out of the shed.

Your heart sang with relief as you realized it hadn't been that long.

You sat with a stressfully relieved smile on your lips, waiting for another chance of escape, waiting until you could not hear him any longer.

Camilo's POV

Camilo lay in his bed. Awake.

He hadn't gotten any sleep that night, no matter how much his body willed him to want it.

Don't get him wrong, he definitely tried. All morning, in fact. It was early afternoon, and Camilo was still laying on his same side, looking at the same spot on his bedsheets.

That was, until the screaming of his abuela could be heard outside his room.

Camilo shot out of bed, darting out of his room and joining his cousins, Dolores and Mirabel, plus his aunt Julieta. Their heads were collectively inclining upwards, all with shocked expressions on their faces.

It took Camilo a moment to collect himself, fully gathering what was going on around him. He joined his other family members in looking up, only to see his abuela with a horrified look.

Something felt different, he just couldn't put his finger on it.

Was it her hair? No, that wouldn't be it. Was it the colour of the window coverings? No, that wasn't it either.

Wait.

Camilo's heart dropped into his stomach while simultaneously climbing up into his throat.

The candle was gone.