Bruno Madrigal Oneshots

The World Doesnt End (6)

by Lolapola on Ao3

warnings: none

Summary: the half

Julieta wakes up the morning after Mirabel's gift ceremony with a sore neck and a heart as heavy as it's ever been.

She and Agustín had been up late into the night comforting their little girl, and she had finally fallen asleep out of sheer exhaustion, some tears still leaking out from under her eyelids even as they carefully tucked her under her blankets.

Both of them had sat in chairs Casita had produced beside her bed the whole night in case she had woken up again. She hadn't, but it didn't matter. Their aching muscles could be solved with an arepa. Their aching hearts couldn't.

When she walks in the kitchen, she's stupidly moved by the realisation that her sister has got up and made breakfast for everyone, so Julieta doesn't have to do it.

She whispers her thanks to Pepa, who squeezes her hand, and gives Félix a shaky smile, who waves at her from where he's helping Camilo pick out his food. She hopes, privately, with an echo of amusement, that Félix helped with at least some of the food preparation. Her sister's cooking is famously...not great. But it's the thought that counts.

The kids are all seated at the table, subdued. They look up when she and Agustín walk over, mumbling their good mornings.

"Mom," whispers Luisa, "Is Mirabel okay?"

Julieta forces herself to smile, to not cry, and kisses her gentle, compassionate girl on the head.

"She will be, corazon," she says, because she doesn't want to lie.

Luisa nods glumly, looking back down at her food.

At the head of the table, Alma is sitting silently with her café, staring lifelessly ahead.

Julieta hates to see her look so worn down. And she hates that her mother can't pretend that this isn't the end of the world, for her granddaughter's sake.

"Mamá," she says quietly, and Alma startles a little, looking up like she'd forgotten where she was. "Mirabel is still asleep. I wanted her to get her rest. She – she was awake until very late, last night."

"Entiendo," her mother says stiffly, and Julieta nods her thanks before taking her seat.

Bruno's seat, she notices, is empty, and she feels a sting of guilty relief. She doesn't know if he'd have had a vision last night, after the ceremony, but she knows she couldn't deal with hearing about it right now. She knows that her brother has never been able to hide a thing from her in his life, and that one look at his face would've told her whether her daughter's future is in ruins or not.

Right now, if that were true, she'd rather remain in blissful ignorance. Just for today.

Just behind her, Agustín is hovering.

"Um..." he starts, into the oppressive silence. "I might – I want to go and speak to Bruno."

He's speaking, ostensibly, only to Julieta, but he's the only person making a sound, even as he lowers his voice awkwardly as if to keep up the pretence of privacy.

"I want to just – I should apologise. I said – that is, we had some – some words last night. I should really go and talk to him."

"Vale," Julieta says, giving him a tired smile. She'd heard some of what was said, she thinks, but she can't bring herself to worry about it. Her husband and her brother can sort out their own mess.

"Espera, Agustín," Alma says suddenly, and he turns to her. She hesitates, and then sighs. "It's – it's nothing. Never mind."

Agustín nods, a little awkwardly, and leaves the room.