⟨ status: complete ⟩
"They say artists are nothing but sad people, unaccepted by society of who they are. Masking themselves in 'personas' to fit in." She turned to him, placing her beloved paintbrush on the table with her face adorning a beautiful...
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Tack, tack, tack. The sounds of footwear hitting the wooden floor- reverberating throughout the empty halls. Ba-Dump, Ba-Dump, Ba-Dump. The sound of his heartbeat beating erratically as he dragged the girl off to somewhere, he could feel the tepid heat on the hand that held her. It was satisfyingly electrifying. It was a nice sensation.
Once they reach their destination, she stood in front of the glowing wooden door of Camilo's room. Her hand reached to trace the glowing lines, mesmerized at the sight of the illuminated mural, it was the first time she got to see the magic door up close. Camilo couldn't stop the grin reaching his face as he watched the girl be fascinated at the intricacies of his door.
"Wanna come inside, Hermosa?"
Half listening, she nodded- still at awe at the glowing wooden door. She followed Camilo inside his room, fully immersing herself in the interiors of his room, she noted the little details- such as the fact that the boy had one too many mirrors than what is needed; the room almost looks like the backstage of a theater. She noticed that there is another door leading to somewhere, she could only guess that it's some kind of stage, a stadium of some sort.
Her eyes went and found Camilo's, who she wasn't aware is staring at her with an expression she didn't quite understand. Though, the expression disappeared as quickly as it came as he immediately looked away in embarrassment, flustered at the fact that he got caught staring.
"Are you okay?" She asked once more, concerned at her friend's unusual behavior- one moment he looks so despondent then the next he's all sunshine and cheers, and now he's acting like a shy school girl. Just how many personas does this boy has?
"I'm fine! I'm fine, I'm just a—y'know a bit flustered from all that cardio. Phew, really took the breath 'outta me."
Her eyes slightly narrowed as she walked closer to him, her hand raising to place it on the boy's forehead to check his temperature. With a simple 'ah' she checked his temperature, he's perfectly fine, albeit a bit warm but that's probably from the running we did. She thinks, still stoically unaware of Camilo basically steaming with face painted colored with a pretty dark reddish hue.
"I was talking about you staring at nothing by the window earlier, you were looking like a princess waiting for her knight and shining armor to save her."
He scoffed at her statement, and rebutted that he is not a princess but rather a handsome prince. His Mamí said so everyday. She slowly retracted her hand, her eyes never leaving his for even a few seconds.
"From what I've recalled, you had a certain expression on your face,"
Her hands slowly lowering to reach his wrist, making him focus on her. Her thumb gently rubbing circles as if to make him feel at ease, though her face may not show anything, her eyes truly said a different story if you observed hard enough. Her eyes swirled with worry for her friend as she continued.
"like you weren't quite sure what or who you are supposed to be in this Earth."
His eyes widened in shock when she said that, he wonders if he was that obvious that the teen in front of him can read him like an open book. He looked away from her, unable to come up with a cheeky reply. But even if he tried to deny it, the two of them knew that- yes, he is unsure of what he is, what he's supposed to be.
"I'm always needed somewhere different. And eventually I realized- I realized that maybe I was needed to be someone different, too."
The crack in his voice was enough evidence to prove how long he has been holding back, how much he had to hide. His family has been through a lot, he didn't want them all to worry— he didn't want to be a burden. He's Camilo Madrigal after all, and he won't stop until he makes you smile! After all, he is Camilo, and he is a Madrigal. A Madrigal who everyone wants him to be anyone else but him, for he isn't worth to look at anyways.
He was so deep in his inner turmoil that he didn't notice the salty tears that fell from his glistening green orbs. It wasn't until (Y/N) gently wiped the streaming tears with a soft swipe of her thumb, her hand cupping his freckled face was he torn away from his self-depricating thoughts. He looked at the girl in front of her, her eyes filled with concern as the rest of her face remained the same, stoic as she always was.
"Y'know,"
She started softly, her gentle voice soothing his turbulent mind. He cries so quietly, she noted as her nimble hand brushes away the stray strands of his curly hair that covered his face.
"At night, I go outside and lay on the field to count the stars."
"Why count the stars? There's millions out there, it's pointless."
"It's also pointless to count freckles, but I know you have roughly around 23 on the edge of your left cheek."
A small smile adorning her face as she spoke, wait. A smile! She smiled, she smiled at him. He could feel his soul soaring at the rare sight of her smile, it was endearing. How he wishes to take a picture to immortalize this moment, it deserves to be hung in a museum— no, Camilo would prefer to keep it to himself. That smile was for him, and him only. Hmph.
"So you counted my freckles, well isn't that stalker behavior."
Her expression didn't change, still beautifully smiling at him like— like he is someone worth looking at. His breathing hitched at the thought; the butterflies fluttering aggressively in his stomach. People might say that Camilo is the sun as she is the moon, but Camilo would beg to differ.
For she is moon and he is the sky, she accompanied him amidst the darkness that surrounds them all while giving him the stars to remind him of them when they are not around, to remind him that she- although not physically there, would always be there for him.
"Be that as it may, for I think the inspiration—the motivation that I've been looking for has been right before my eyes all along."
She leaned in closer to him, a shiver ran through his spine as he could feel her warm breath tickling his ear as she softly whispered to his ear,
"I know it's not much, but to me, you're enough. More than enough. Worry not about me wanting you to be someone else, for the only one I want you to become is you."
Her voice lulling, calming him to comfort. A brief— a momentary respite from all uncertainty. For a moment, all his insecurities ceased.
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