Chapter Text
THERE WAS ONE TIME SOMEONE ASKED CAMILO MADRIGAL who he was in love with, and it just so happened to make his day (not that it wasn’t already a happy occasion). Almost everyone in town already knew the answer to such a question but having a chance to actually say it himself always leaves a smug grin on the shapeshifter’s face.
He’s not bragging. Really, he’d insist.
It’s just… Do you know how long it took for him to get the girl?
He deserves an award for that.
But shhh, keep it a secret. Dolores would jab his ribs and Isabela would probably smack him with a cactus if they heard that, especially since every member of their family had their fair share of badgering him to just grow a pair and admit it. Not to mention, how in the end, his Corazón ended up beating him to it anyway.
(Details, schemetails.)
The point is they're together and he couldn't be any happier... except maybe today.
It was four years since her sudden confession and his rather impulsive proposal. They're in their early twenties; twenty-three to be exact. And though, they've had both their ups and downs, what matters most right then was the way that they managed to carry through it all. Not to mention, it was easier doing so, considering that they've been best friends for as long as they could remember.
Anyway, the sky is blue and sunny thanks to his mother’s bright mood. The Casita is bustling with people coming in and out, all busy with their respective tasks. Mirabel Madrigal can be spotted just outside their home when she spots a little girl amidst the sea of people.
She picks up Dolores’ daughter out of habit, and her niece tilts her head curiously as she asks, “Tia Mirabel, what happen’?”
“It’s your Tio Camilo’s wedding day,” Mirabel answers with a grin.
“What t'at, Tia?”
“It's when two people who love each other join together and start their own family.”
And the child blinks twice before declaring, “I want t'at too.”
“You want what?”
“Wedding!”
The woman blinks twice before erupting into laughter at the young child’s response.
‘Wait ‘till Dolores hears about this,’ she thinks, but instead, she focuses on the three-year-old in her arms, assuring the kid with a kiss on the forehead, “Well, someday you’ll find your media naranja, princess.”
“What t’at?” the toddler babbles.
“A half-orange. It’s what you call someone you love, Chiquita.”
“Who your orange?”
The question makes a smile creep up her lips, and she chuckles lightly at the familiarity of it.
Though, as heart-warming as their conversation was, it was cut short by the girl’s mother who finds them outside their Casita.
“Mija?”
Mirabel crouches down to let the girl run to Dolores, though as soon as she does, the kid might as well have jumped out of her arms.
Dolores looks at them both, before asking her daughter, “What are you doing here, Mija? I’ve been looking for you everywhere and you’ve been quiet. Were you hiding from me again?”
“Tia told me about oranges, Mami,” she embraces her mother and the woman hoists her up but not without glancing at the other figure among them.
Mirabel and Dolores take a moment of silence. The latter narrows her eyes, scrutinizing the woman as she recalls hearing the sound of her cousin’s voice in a different room at that exact same moment.
It takes a beat before she guesses, “Camilo?”
The shapeshifter transforms back to himself as soon as his sister catches him red-handed, “Aw, you found me out.”
“Tio!” his niece claps her little hands together in awe of his miracle.
Unlike her daughter though, Dolores is less amused by the thought. She crosses her arms and nags her brother the moment he shifts back.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing? You’re not running out on your own wedding, are you?”
“What? Of course not!” Camilo defends himself. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this day?”
“Apparently, since you were five,” Dolores teases. “Papá won’t stop telling the story.”
“Yeah, it’s embarrassing.”
“Hmm, well, it’s good that you’re not getting cold feet. If you ever did hurt my sister-in-law I would have made sure to spill all of your secrets to the entire Encanto,” she threatened.
“For the last time, Sis. I won’t,” her brother swore. “Relax.”
Honestly, she was perfectly convinced that Camilo wouldn’t do such a thing even if she brought it up. I mean, before he even dares do such a thing, their mother would have flooded the entire Encanto. But the threat of his family aside, Camilo Madrigal wholeheartedly loved his best friend and the Madrigals had the honor of witnessing him pin over the girl for years.
So, instead of pressing on that subject, she averts it to one that she was actually curious about. “What are you doing out here then?”
“Well—” Camilo began to explain himself. “I wanted to see my bride but Mirabel kicked me out as soon as she caught me trying to sneak in. And Mami threatened to blind me with lightning because—”
“You’re not allowed to see the bride in the wedding dress until the ceremony,” the two siblings recite in unison; Dolores with a hint of amusement and Camilo with evident displeasure.
“So, I went to the kitchen but Tia Julieta caught me eating and threatened to kick me out too and Luisa literally did kick me out,” he continued.
His sister snorts at their cousin’s actions, “You had it coming.”
Camilo rolls his eyes at her response before eventually asking, “How did things go on your side?”
“It’s perfect!” Dolores smiles excitedly before prattling on. “There are just a few more adjustments left but Isabela has it covered. Abuela told me to check on you while they finish the preparations, and then I definitely had to come because I overheard them say you were missing.”
And speaking of the devil, their younger brother runs up to them at the entrance of their Casita, having just arrived home from town.
“Dolores! You have got to help me,” Antonio pleads.
Despite the way the boy turned to his older sister, it was Camilo who asks, “What’s up?”
It takes a beat before the younger Madrigal realizes that the missing groom-to-be was here this whole time, and at that, he reprimands his older brother, “Camilo, what are you doing here? Tio Bruno and Tio Agustin were searching everywhere for you— I even had the birds looking for you!”
“My point exactly,” Dolores agreed.
“Well…”
“I hope you're not forgetting this is your wedding, Hermano,” the thirteen-year-old crosses his arms at him, and it makes Dolores wonder who truly was the older one between her two brothers.
“Relax, Toñito. I was just taking a break,” Camilo waves him off.
Dolores doesn’t fail to chime in, “You mean sneaking off to see your bride.”
“You know, it’s not too late for me to elope with my bride—”
“Nice try,” the woman nudges his side, causing him to recoil in pain, “I think you're forgetting that if she hears about that, Abuela would go ballistic and send the whole town looking for you—”
“Guys!” Antonio exclaims reminding them of their priorities.
Being the more rational one, Dolores turns to their brother to ask, “What’s wrong, Antonio?”
“Papi is drunk.”
“What?” she looks at him incredulously. “I thought you and Mariano were watching over him?”
“Yeah, but Mariano’s drunk now too!” the teenager groans. “Something about wanting more babies with you.”
“I get more brot’er and sister?” the toddler in Dolores’ arms asks innocently, speaking out of the blue.
“Ay, Dios Mío,” Dolores lets out an exasperated sigh.
“Not yet, Mija,” She turns to her daughter first and then, averts her attention to her brothers to complain, “I can’t believe Dad’s the handful today. I bet my chances that Mom would have caused the hurricane.”
“Well, have you seen him at your wedding?” Camilo snickers, recalling the way their father had bawled his eyes out at his only daughter’s wedding.
But his brother wasn't buying it. The man was clearly stalling.
“Camilo!” Antonio reminds him with simply two words. “Your. Wedding.”
“I’ll handle those drunks. You go back to our uncles and get ready,” Dolores instructs, letting out a huff. “Thankfully, when all of this is over, you are officially your wife’s problem and not ours.”
“Oh, please. You both love me.”
Dolores and Antonio equally give him unamused expressions.
“Okay, okay!” Camilo raises his hands up to surrender, “I’m going.”
To their surprise, before they go on their separate paths, his niece squirms in Dolores’ arms, trying to free herself by saying, “Mami, wait. I wanna talk to Tio Cami’o.”
Dolores lets her daughter down, and the toddler runs up to her uncle who crouches down to meet her eyes.
“What’s up, Chiquitita?”
Still dwelling on their earlier conversation, the child reminds him of the question he was unable to answer, “You haven't told me about who your ha’f orange, Tio Cami’o?”
The corner of his lips quirk up to form a smile, “You know the pretty lady I’m always around with?”
“Tia Mi Amor?”
He doesn’t know whether to burst into laughter or feel guilty about the way that his niece doesn’t know the name of his wife-to-be thanks to all the pet names he calls her.
In the end, he responds with a nod and a stifled chuckle, “Yup.”
Camilo motions for his niece to come closer, and when she does, he whispers, “Don’t tell your Tia Abuela, but she’s the lady that makes the best arepa in the village.”
Dolores, who obviously overheard what her brother had told her daughter, warns him from behind them, “Camilo, if you don’t get ready right now, I’m telling Tia Julieta.”
“I’m going, I’m going!”
If someone told five-year-old Camilo Madrigal that he would be standing in front of the altar, marrying the girl of his dreams eighteen years later, he would have been ecstatic. Now, if you told him such when he was fifteen, he wouldn’t believe you at all.
But here he was standing in front of the altar, watching people walk down the aisle until it was the long-awaited bride’s turn.
His Corazón is at the center of the church, dressed in white. Despite the veil over her head, he was certain that she looked as beautiful as ever, almost as if an ethereal being descended from heaven— He’s a sap. He knows. But could you blame him?
For once in his life, he couldn’t be any happier being himself because he was the one who was going to marry her; his childhood friend, his closest companion, his Corazón.
Don’t tell anyone but he teared up at the sight of her walking down the aisle; and if that doesn’t prove how damn happy he was, then he doesn’t know what can.
Sometimes, it takes two halves to make one feel whole.
The woman walks down the aisle with one of her younger brothers by her side to give her away in place of their father. He smiles at the sight of Camilo, teasing the couple as he hands her over to her groom, “No returns and no refunds, okay?”
His sister doesn’t hesitate to smack the back of his head.
“I was kidding!”
The woman rolls her eyes at her brother as Camilo takes her hand, smiling at his brother-in-law proudly, “I don’t plan to give her back anyway.”
“Love you, sis,” he tells her sister before turning to the man beside her, “Take care of her, Camilo.”
When they’re finally alone in front of the priest, standing side by side, Camilo whispers, “Was it worth the wait?”
As the priest began the ceremony, his best friend shrugs. She tries her best to keep her voice soft as she teases him, “Eh, it took us more than a decade to confess our feelings. I could’ve waited a few more years to get married.”
“I offered to do this four years ago. And you want me to wait longer? How heartless of you, Mi Vida,” he feigns hurt.
“Right, you proposed before you even admitted how you felt for me,” she deadpans. “That is a noteworthy achievement even for a Madrigal.”
“Hey, after today, you’re officially Madrigal too, Corazón,” the shapeshifter grins.
“About that… How would you feel if we took my last name?” She asks, suggesting such just to mess with him.
Instead of earning a response from Camilo though, they both hear Dolores squeak from behind them, having evidently heard their conversation.
The couple gives their all to suppress their laughter. The shapeshifter grins and the woman bites her lip.
“Suit yourself,” Camilo challenged. “Abuela’s going to freak.”
“I was kidding,” the bride speaks softly, just to make sure his sister wouldn't jump to any conclusions.
“Of course you are. I already told my parents you’d be a Madrigal when we were five,” he counters. “I called dibs, Cariño. It’s too late for you to take it back.”
Like she would take it back.
She would gladly have Camilo Madrigal for all he was, all other conditions included. And that was a fact that the woman had assured him of through all those three years of being together.
So all she does is smile, a soft gentle smile from behind her veil that somehow gets him to fall for her all over again.
And looking at the woman beside him right then, Camilo remembers how they came to be— how he always kept searching for her half-orange when it turned out to be him all along.
Standing beside her in front of the altar, he couldn’t help but think about how happy he is with the way turned out to be.
He always knew he’d marry her someday since the first time he bragged about it to his mother.
He always knew that no one can make him feel happier than his best friend turned lover.
He always knew that the woman in front of him was his media naranja—
And damn was he right.
FIN.