Encanto x Reader Oneshots

☽ Left Behind II ☾

❝He left you with nothing but beautiful pain.❞

Bruno; he/him
Y/n; she/her

Warnings: depressive thoughts, intention of self-inflicting pain, tell me if i missed anything.
POV: Second.
JayParksTiddies (original requester)
Tag list:
yasmin_xiumin_yeol
LadyLoki001
_cloudtastic_
greenmxchha

"Happy Birthday, Papa."

   You stood in front of his door, now at the age of fifteen. A dimly lit candle was held in one of your hands as you ran over the door's crevasses with the tips of your fingers.

   You didn't know where he went, if he was alive, or if he'd ever come back. You still held onto the smallest sliver of hope that one day you'd see him again.

   His door was worn out, the light was gone, the doorknob lost its shine. When you walked in, it was as if a sand storm had passed. Sand fell endlessly and his tower was cracked, the bridge broken.

   No one was allowed in there. Abuela refused to let anyone even speak his name.

   "Fifty years old, huh? Milestone." You looked at the carving of your father, treating it as if it was him. "There was a big party earlier. Everyone is exhausted and off to bed already." You never got a proper sleep on his birthday. No matter how hard you revelled each year, his birthday was when he'd occupy your mind the most.

   Apart from your own of course.

   Every time you blew out the candles on your birthday cake, you wished for him to be there when you woke up. To caress your face the way he did when you were younger.

   "Antonio is getting his gift soon. Two weeks from now, give or take?" You wrapped your fingers around the doorknob, slowly beginning to twist it open.

   Despite the fact Abuela told everyone to leave Bruno's room alone, you couldn't help but go in there once in a while. Lay in his bed, dust the furniture and make sure it was still clean. You made sure nothing was moved just in case he came back.

   You walked in, closing the door behind yourself as you made it to his bed, taking a seat and holding the candle in both of your hands. "Everyone's going to be there," you didn't know why you were talking out loud. It wasn't like Bruno could hear you as Dolores could. "His parents," you muttered those two words under your breath, shuffling around to get in a more comfortable position.

   The last gift ceremony was yours. You remembered the way you looked for him in the crowd; hoping that he was there. You couldn't believe that he missed that day, the most important day of your life.

   "If I could have only one wish, I wouldn't want to feel this way. They told me I'd have your memory but all I want is you to stay." Your voice was hushed, "I can't stop my mind from haunting me. It's like a scar on a butterfly's wing." You looked at the photo on his nightstand, grasping onto the frame as you held it in front of you with the candlelight illuminating the image

   You and Bruno; ten years ago at the ice cream shop.

   "I'm sorry, I just... wanted you to know, I guess." You looked at the broken glass that held onto the frame for its dear life, placing it back on the nightstand before taking one of the shards and inspecting it. You glided it across the skin of your arm, watching as your body healed itself instantly without a scar.