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To say Camila Noceda was shocked would be an understatement. Surprised, bamboozled, confused, even flabbergasted didn’t cut it. Nothing could compare to what she felt when Luz - oh, her darling Luz! - and four other wounded teenagers had shown up at her door. But that was almost a week ago now, and Camila was beginning to sink into her new normal, or so she told herself.
The teens were apprehensive at first, but it felt like they were beginning to warm up to her. Gus (the youngest of the group) was simply enthralled with everything human. The blender, rubber ducks, giraffes (he was always talking about how he wanted to ‘re-establish contact’, whatever that meant), absolutely everything had him in awe. Camila was refraining from using electronics around him, since the last time she did, he almost passed out from sheer excitement.
The girl with the dark hair was called Willow, Camila soon discovered. She was always tending to the garden. Camila wasn’t sure whether it was a magic touch or just a green thumb, but her plants were looking better than ever. She was kind and strong, though her eyes seemed fractured behind those rounded glasses. Despite this, Willow would always look up and wave a muddy hand every time Camila passed her. Such a sweet girl.
Then there was Amity. She was quiet, but never seemed rude, somehow. She and Luz were basically attached at the hip, and they would both go a deep shade of red whenever Camila walked into a room where they were alone together. Once she left, she could always hear whispers behind the closed door. And Camila would smile to herself; Amity was surely an awesome girlfriend, even if she and Luz weren’t ready to tell her yet.
Finally, the blond boy. Scars littered his face and arms, and Camila didn’t even want to think about what the skin that wasn’t exposed looked like. Whilst she felt as if the other kids were warming up to her, Hunter still seemed as cold as ice. He avoided Vee like the plague (there seemed to be some tension between them, it seemed?) and was a bit… too polite with Camila.
There was no good way to explain it, but something was definitely off about him. The other kids (oh, god, she tried to push that fact from her mind) were haunted, but his magenta eyes seemed to be filled with an entire graveyard’s worth of ghosts. Everyone else called her Camila (even a few mom’s had slipped out) but Hunter was still adamant about calling her ma’am. He woke up early - though Camila doubted if he even slept at all - and didn’t seem to touch any food that wasn’t served to the whole group. Not only that, but he flinched every time she walked by.
Camila was awoken from her daze by a voice, a recognisable one at that.
“Oh, hi, Hunter,” she smiled at him, looking up from the bacon she was frying. And there Hunter stood, in her late husband’s flannel pants and white t-shirt. They were creased, thanks to having been folded up in the attic for so long, but they were the only clothes in the house that fit him. Well, ‘fit him’ was a bit of an exaggeration, the shirt was more of a dress and the pants dragged on the floor behind him. Hunter shifted from foot to foot.
“Is there anything you need assistance with, Ma’am?”
That was another thing to add to the list of why this child needed therapy ASAP - he was so formal, never dropping his guard.
“No, no, I’m good,” she paused for a moment. “Actually, could you turn the radio on, please? It’s too quiet in here.”
“Of course,” he said twisting the dial. “Ma’am.” he added hastily. Camila frowned, the sound of sizzling bacon and a pop song she didn’t know in the background.
“You don’t need to call me ma’am, you know,” she told him. At his confused expression, she explained, “we’re family, and families typically don’t call each other sir or ma’am.” The knot between his eyebrows only became more pronounced.
“Uncle had me call him sir,”
“Well, mijo, I don’t know who your uncle is but -”
“Emperor Belos,” Hunter swallowed. “My - uncle? - is - no, was Emperor Belos.”
Camila froze, staring at him whilst he looked anywhere but her. The red cardinal (Flapjack, its name was?) chirped sadly from its perch within his blond hair. Camila had never met this Emperor Belos man, but Luz had told her all about him and, well, he was nothing but trouble.
“Oh,” was all she could manage. She turned off the stove and, in her fluffy pink slippers, shuffled over to Hunter. “Oh. I’m sorry, mijo.”
“It’s nothing,” Hunter laughed, a slightly maniacal edge to his voice. “He wasn’t that bad. Not until recently…” But his hand betrayed his words as it reached up to the pink scar tissue on his cheek. Camila spread her arms and he flinched.
“C’mon, it’s okay, he can’t hurt you anymore,” she said, offering him a hug.
He stared at her, eyes wide. His lips were slightly parted, showing the gap between his teeth.
Suddenly, his face hardened.
“No,” he said, backing away.
“Mijo -”
“I am not weak, I am not a child who needs to be comforted.” He drew himself up to his full height. “I am the Golden G- I - I.” His breaths were quick now, panicked. He was trying to look intimidating but it came across more as some cornered animal’s last hurrah.
“Hunter, shhhhh, look at me,” Camila said, grabbing his shoulders. His eyes darted around, looking for an escape, weapon, anything.
“Hunter,” she repeated. “You’re not weak for being scared.”
“Uncle - uncle always said -”
“It doesn’t matter what that son of a bitch said,” Camila had to refrain from snarling. Shocked by her anger, Hunter froze.
“Don’t… don’t hurt me,” he whispered.
“I would never,” she assured him. Her expression softened. “Now, c’mon and eat before the bacon goes cold.”
He nodded, trying (and failing) to subtly wipe his eyes on his sleeve. He stared at it for a moment, and, suddenly, something clicked for Camila.
“It’s not poisoned,” she said. “If that’s why you weren’t eating before.” Nobody should have to worry whether or not their breakfast was poisoned, but it seemed that was what had been bothering the poor boy.
He looked at her sceptically before picking up his fork and taking a bite. His eyes lit up and Camila smiled.
“Flapjack, you have got to try this!” he said - or at least that’s what Camila thought he said, as his mouth was too full of food for her to properly understand him. The little red bird chirped, hopping around on the table.
Yawning, Luz entered the kitchen, Amity at her side.
“I smell foo-ood,” she called. She blinked at Hunter gobbling down his breakfast. “Wow. Must be good.”
“Well, I’d hope so because it’s what you’re getting,” Camila replied with a smile, setting two plates down in front of the girls. Hunter put his empty plate (eating that fast can’t have been good for his digestive system, but Camila didn’t say anything) in the dishwasher. He hesitated before giving her a hug then, face beet red, he left without a word.
“Did… something happen whilst we were asleep?” Amity asked.
“Oh wow, so he won’t give me a hug but he’ll give you one, I see how it is,” Luz said, but there was no malice in her voice. Camila laughed them both off. Hunter was still a long way off trusting her, but this was a good first step, at least.