Make You Smile (Camilo Madrigal x Reader)

Impasse

There was not much writing. Actually, there weren't even any words. It was simply a number. One, out of place number. 44.

You froze in place. If hearts could climb their ways through an esophagus, that's what was happening to yours.

"Forty... four?" Camilo said reluctantly. "Are you sure this is evidence, Mira?"

Mirabel's voice bickering with Camilo's began fading into the background, sounding like a distant memory as you got swept up in your own head. 

You couldn't think straight, you couldn't move, you couldn't speak up. You couldn't do anything.

Just like... You tried to get the words out in your head.

Just like... Me? Pá?

You struggled to put your memories in order, trying to grab them as they slipped out of your grasp the more you panicked. 

Forty-four was practically your second name, you responded to it without ever thinking twice about it.

It was the only way your father ever referred to you.

He knew the order of who was most important to him. You were lucky if you were number one. 

He even referred to his top three by name.

Alas, the rest of you were stuck with numbers, growing up like an animal caged at the pound. It was dehumanizing.

"Y/N?"

Your vision was foggy as your head snapped up, focusing back into reality. Camilo and Mirabel shared concerned glances.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" Mirabel asked, putting her hand to your shoulder. 

Camilo's hand twitched. He slightly extended his arm out towards you, as if he wanted to intertwine his fingers with yours, but he let it hang at his side once again.

You fastened your hair-tie before blinking hard, clearing your throat.

"Yeah, yeah," you said, quickly pulling yourself out of whatever rabbit hole you were headed through.

It's probably not even related, you reassured yourself. How could it possibly be related?

"I was just trying to think of whatever this could mean," you lied. "Where did you even find this?" You attempted focusing back on the investigation, snapping yourself out of your flashbacks.

Mirabel, still worriedly glancing at you, retreated her hand from your shoulder. "It was stuffed in the slits of a window-covering," she replied. Your heartbeat steadied as your mind got taken off of that dreadful second name. "Found it at the inn."

You choked once more.

"The one that... I stayed at when I first got here?" You hid the tremble in your voice the best that you could.

You felt a second of Camilo's touch gently brush up against your finger tips. 

Must have not done a very good job.

He narrowed his eyes towards you, a calculative expression seeping onto his face. He was trying to figure you out, but you didn't want him to. Not for this. You didn't want your new life intermingling with the past you were trying so hard to run from.

Mirabel snapped her fingers in an epiphany.

"I forgot you stayed there!" The worry on her face dissipated as she got back into the groove of investigating. "Did you see anything... suspicious?" She lowered the tone of her voice as she finished the sentence.

You shook your head. "No, unfortunately. I was only there for a couple of days."

Camilo suddenly stepped in. "Guys, we don't even know if this means anything," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Mirabel, you found this at the inn. Rooms have numbers. It could very well be related to that."

He made a good point, an excellent one even, which put you at ease. It could be a room number, just simple inn business. The number 44 exists outside of your past.

Mirabel put a finger to her lips, taking in Camilo's point. She nodded her head and hummed in question.

"Wait, no," she suddenly countered. "Encanto is private and local - we don't get many visitors," she said as she gestured around you. "There's like, ten rooms max in that inn, Camilo."

Camilo fell silent as he processed her information, realizing she was right. He raised an eyebrow, searching for a lost explanation.

"The only reason people even go there is for the drinks," Mirabel added to her point. "Then they stay there for the night."

Camilo's face scrunched, his eyebrows furrowing. He knew she was right, but he wasn't yet entirely convinced that this was significant. "Still, it could just be business, Mira." He made a pinching gesture with his pointer finger and thumb, shapeshifting into the innkeeper, Benjamín. "I think we should take it with a grain of salt."

"Maybe," she replied. "I'm still keeping this in case, though," Mirabel affirmed, shoving the paper into her green-luminescent bag.

You felt yourself at an impasse. You had information that the group didn't, but you weren't for certain if it was worth sharing. One, you didn't think it could be related, and two, you weren't necessarily ready to delve into your past with your newly acquired best friends. You liked where you were.

Before you got the chance to come to a decision on whether to speak up or stay quiet, Camilo lightly nudged your arm with his hand. He was checking in on you.

You smiled at him before Mirabel began speaking again. "Let's check around the inn tonight," she proposed. "I didn't look too deeply after finding this."

It was settled. The routine sound of footsteps walking across the bridge rung through your ears, wandering off into the night once more.