Bruno Madrigal Oneshots

do you feel ashamed, when you hear my name?

by shrinkydiinks on Ao3

warnings: confrontation, crying (ig?)

summary: Julieta and Bruno have a much needed talk

Their Casita was smaller, when they made it. The foundations were the same—after all, they had been the only thing left, in the rubble—but still, it was smaller. The courtyard was bigger, but perhaps it had only felt that way since the same butterfly-cut tiles as the kitchen had been added along the hallways of the lower floor. Bruno's tower was gone, instead placed back where it had been when they were kids, right next to Pepa's. Each of the bedrooms had been made smaller, too, without Casita's magic making them fantastically huge.

Or perhaps, it was the way Julieta could feel love pouring out from every part of the house their community and family had rebuilt together that made it feel cozy. Perhaps it wasn't smaller at all, but just the atmosphere that made it feel that way.

Either way, Julieta thought, it was a welcome change.

The kitchen, in which she, Augustín, and Camilo currently sat waiting for their tea to brew, had been among the first rooms to be completely finished during the rebuilding. Augustín often joked that she was the backbone of their society, and if nothing he had only been proven right. She had tried protesting when she realised, saying that it didn't matter when the kitchen was finished: her gift had been lost with their original Casita, so she couldn't cook up remedies for the Encanto's aches and ailments anymore. The builders of the Encanto had faltered, embarrassed at their forgetfulness, but all agreed with enthusiasm when Félix hooked an arm around her shoulders and told her with a laugh that it didn't matter her gift, the taste of her food would be enough for them to forget their troubles anyway.

The compliment no longer truly mattered, as Mirabel's doorknob had ignited their gifts again with a spark. Julieta would be up at dawn like usual cooking enough food and coffee for the entire village to cure what injuries they had managed to sustain throughout the night, but her lips still twitched into a smile at the memory anyway. Felix had always had an easier way with words than her Augustin had.

Almost comically timed, the kettle on the stove began to whistle, and Augustín looked up from his book and blankly said, "Ah, the timer's done."

The timer, which Julieta used exclusively for things that went in the oven, sat untouched by the rolling pin. Julieta chuckled at her husband as he stumbled on his own feet trying to stand up, gracefully catching himself by hopping to her side until he caught his balance. With practised movements, he grabbed four mugs out of the cabinet while Julieta turned the stove off, moving around her to place them down. She handed him strainers to put tea leaves in and poured the water in after he moved to her other side, two of them filled nearly all the way and the other two left only three quarters' full, for milk to be added in after steeping.

Usually, at this time, Camilo or Mirabel or Luisa would be picking up quiet conversation with them, asking strange questions like "do ants sleep" (Camilo, a week before Antonio's ceremony) or "why do people give their dogs haircuts, you would think they wouldn't need them since they don't have hands to do haircuts with" (Luisa, yesterday), or telling them mundane gossip and cool facts they learned that day. But it seemed that they had all tired themselves out with the day's work, because even Camilo—who was usually the one staying up the latest, and waking up only when Mirabel banged on his door for breakfast—seemed to be struggling to keep his eyes open.

After a moment of Julieta and Augustín watching Camilo stare at some spot on the floor, zoned out and unmoving, Augustín wrapped her in a hug (gladly reciprocated) and rested his cheek on her head. They stood there, leaning on each other over the steeping tea, and Julieta felt as if she was breathing in fully for the first time that day.