The Heart of Camilo (A Camilo Madrigal x Reader Fem Y/N Story)

Grounding

I stared at him, not knowing what to say.

"You felt better after throwing the mug, didn't you?" he asked.

I nodded, my head spinning with everything he was saying. I swallowed. "Yeah. It was like it snapped me out of it and I could breathe and think again."

"We need to replace that with a different outlet," he said. "That, we'll talk about tomorrow, so think about what a good one might be." He stood up. "Now, let's go eat something."

"No," I said. "I can't go down there." 

"Okay, again, you're feeling something negative - name it, say it out loud."

I looked angrily up at him. "This is the plan? Every time I'm anything other than happy, I have to list out everything I'm feeling like an idiot?"

"Yes," he said, without further explanation.

I rolled my eyes. "I feel like I'm not hungry."

"Camilo."

"Fine! I feel like I want to die I'm so embarrassed. Dolores heard everything, and I'm sure she told everyone, and even if she didn't, everyone knows I'm up here all day and so something must be wrong. I feel useless. I feel humiliated. I feel like once again, I'm a piece of garbage who can't do one thing right when I'm myself." I paused, running my hands through my hair in frustration. "I feel like ... everyone knows I'm not good enough for her, and they finally have proof of it. I feel like everyone knew I could never be good enough, not after she literally sacrificed herself to save me. How can you compete with that?" 

"Interesting word, 'compete'," my father said. "But not surprising, considering this family has basically had you all competing your whole lives to see who could be the most useful to the family, who could sacrifice the most of themselves." He paused. "I think, deep down, you feel like Y/N accidentally eclipsed you for life in the eyes of the family - and you're right, you can't do more than dying. And you shouldn't feel you have to compete to see who is more worthy," he finished sadly, looking at my mother.

I just stared at him again, feeling overwhelmed. Surprising me, my stomach growled. 

My father sighed heavily. "Let's take a break," he said. "How do you feel?"

"Hungry," I admitted.

"Good," he said, "let's go."

As we walked downstairs, the chatter from everyone in the kitchen died down immediately. I wanted to die, cringing internally, keeping my eyes on the ground as I slid into a seat at the table. Mirabel moved to sit next to me and gave me a side-hug, holding on for quite a while, until I shifted away from her to end it, looking up at her and giving her a small smile.

"Abuela, can we all have a quick talk about something?" my mother said, calling her back from where she had started to head to the living room. Abuela came back into the kitchen, not looking at me, frowning, and sat back down at the table. I could only imagine how furious she had been at what I had done - I just prayed that it hadn't ruined the party and most people didn't know what had happened.

"Felix, Julieta, Agustine and I have been talking," my mother continued as everyone turned to look at her. "Between what Mirabel felt she had to do two years ago, Isabela almost being forced into a marriage against her will before finally breaking down, and now this with Camilo... we don't want the kids using their gifts for a while."

Abuela's mouth dropped open. "What are you talking about?"

"It's a pattern, don't you see, mama?" Tia Julieta said. "The pressure, it's too much for them!"