Scratches. And scattering. Something was moving from inside the walls.
A crack in the wall presented itself to (f/n), and they eyed it closely, eyes half-lidded. They lowered their head until they met with the fracture in Casita's walls. A flash of green sped by.
They blinked repeatedly in agitation, as they stood back up straight and held a perplexed look on their face. Rubbing their head, they wondered, 'Must be something with Casita's plumbing.'
Quickly shuffling away from the crack, they finished off their empanada and licked their fingers briefly. Looking back up, they saw Mirabel's grandmother holding her hands together and calmly speaking to Mirabel. (F/n) squinted their eyes at the sight. Mirabel appeared to be holding some sort of flower-shaped construction paper with some words engraved on them.
And it was on fire.
Mirabel quickly put it out with her foot and shared an anxious expression. She pushed her lime-green glasses back up onto the bridge of her nose and kept listening to Alma.
(F/n)'s gaze drifted away to another shape in the crowd. Two people, one short and pleasantly plump while the other was tall and lean. Their eyes grew accustomed to all the movement and ruckus and the forms became more detailed. A woman, with fiery-red hair, was dancing bachata with the short, curly-haired man. They held each other close passionately and swung their hips to the beat of the song. That was until the man accidentally stepped on her foot and cried out in pain.
"Ay, Felix! Ten cuidado!", she held her foot in pain, grimacing sourly. A smudge of grey appeared over her head, as she hopped in discomfort - and a full-blown storm cloud which released a big fat thunderbolt over her head. Surprisingly, I didn't affect the woman standing beneath it, who was still busy reprimanding her husband.
'That must be Pepa and her husband. Geez, she's certainly got a bad temper.' (F/n) thought dimly.
Everyone in the Madrigal family had their problems. Mirabel had already informed (f/n) of it. Alma being the one who would constantly guilt-trip people for being an individual and not just 'their gift'. (F/n)'s mind ran back to the memories, the memories of Mirabel running back to them, tears threatening to fall. All because of this family, and Alma.
(F/n) found themselves clenching their jaw with their face flushed just at the thought of it. Such a seemingly perfect family, treating their daughter like an outcast.
Their train of thought was cut short when something patted their shoulder. Their head turned only to see Mirabel, a grin on her face.
"Hey! (F/n), ya made it!" she slipped her hand off their shoulder, and pulled them in for a tight hug. Arms snaking around their back, she squeezed gently and placed her head in the crook of their neck. Pulling away, Mirabel began chatting with (f/n), mostly about how happy she was for Antonio, and how they had spent the whole day decorating.
They both stood, in a corner, talking and giggling like idiots, while the rest of the family entertained the guests. Just them and her, having a nice time.
Word count : 513
//AAAA I HATE THIS CHAPTER. ITS SO SHORT AND BAD. Sorry guys, I needed to get this chapter outta my system cuz I'm starting another story. Hope you enjoyed it though, I'll make sure the next is even greater for you guys!//
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// ᴇɴᴇᴍʏ // ᴄ. ᴍᴀᴅʀɪɢᴀʟ //
Fanfiction"ᴏʜ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪꜱᴇʀʏ." (f/n) is done with the Madrigals, even if they're perceived as the perfect, magical family, does neglecting their daughter make them seem so high and mighty? Mirabel has had to confide in them for what seems like forever, and afte...
