we don't talk about us// Camilo Madrigal x oc

I35I

Avon knew Camilo. 

She'd like to argue that she knew him better than anyone, possibly even Dolores. She knew his habits, annoying quirks..everything that made him—well, him. But lately, she sensed that he wasn't feeling like himself. 

It started with the lack of appetite at breakfast. Then it was the absence of snide remarks when she teased him, or made their usual jokes. Avon was shocked to find he didn't say one thing to Dolores about her proposal other than a formal 'congratulations.' 

She didn't know what was wrong, but she wanted to figure it out. 

Avon noticed he spent most of the time trying to get his chores done—entertain the children in the village—help the builders with their construction. He was barely in his own form. She considered that might be what was wrong. 

It must be exhausting to constantly be someone other than yourself. 

"Camilo?" Avon carefully knocked on his door, something she never did. When he didn't answer, she pushed the door open, finding him laying face down on his bed in the starfish position. 

It was morning, so she wondered if he might've gone out to the village—but apparently not. 

He lifted his head, a wave of curls falling into his face. Camilo's expression was uncharacteristically un-Camilo like—it wouldn't be a stretch to say it more closely resembled Pepa's stressed out look. 

Camilo rolled onto his back, closing his eyes. "Ave." 

"Something's up," Avon said, sitting at the foot of his bed and dipping her head down to look at him closely. "Tell me." 

"There's nothing up." Camilo answered, his tone clearly stating that there was. "Everything is down." 

"Like your current mood?" Avon raised her eyebrows. "You can't fool me, Cami. You might be able to fool Alma with your fake smiles but I can tell." 

"Is that a soulmate thing?" Camilo groaned. "Cause it's annoying if it is." 

Avon was not deterred. She narrowed her eyes, thinking. 

"Camilo, will you just tell me what's wrong?" Avon sat closer, resting her hand on his leg. "I can figure it out, but I'd rather hear it from you." 

Camilo huffed loudly, flipping back onto his stomach. He was acting extremely strange and it was honesty freaking Avon out a bit. 

"Mypowersaregone." 

"What?" 

"My. Powers. Are. Gone." Camilo muttered his voice muffled by the mattress. 

Avon rolled him over, pulling him into a sitting position. Camilo reluctantly leaned against his head board, and Avon sat beside him. 

"I don't know why," Camilo continued. "It was fine last night—but when I woke up this morning, I couldn't shift at all." 

"You're overworking yourself, mi vida," Avon said earnestly. "You need to take a break." 

"But I'm letting everyone down," Camilo said, slightly ashamed. His cheeks turned pink and he hid his face in his knees. 

Avon knew that wasn't the only problem. "Cami. Do you think maybe you've been spending too much time as other people?" 

Camilo pulled his head up again. "Don't you understand? I have to! The only thing that's special about me is that I can be anyone else—but me!" 

It was then that Avon realized truly how much Camilo's gift was affecting him. The pressure and expectations—along with the wrong, message he was getting about himself...

"Stop," Avon said firmly. "There's so many more things that are special about you. And it's not your gift, it's you." 

"I don't know who I am." 

"Well, I do," Avon said. "Camilo, you're quite literally my other half. You're funny, smart, kind—and you always make people smile." She sighed. "And you expect too much of yourself. You're a major over-achiever, and work too hard for other people." 

Camilo's green eyes widened. 

"—and just because you don't know who you are..completely, yet, I'll be there for you while you figure it out." Avon wasn't sure if what she was saying was completely cliche, or cringey, but the words sounded okay in her own head. 

Camilo was silent for a few seconds, and Avon wondered if she said something wrong. 

"I love you Avon," he grinned. "Why do you always say the most fucking perfect things?" 

She shrugged. "I'm just that perfect." 

"C'mere," Camilo leaned in, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her.