Work Text:
It was a Sunday evening in her village.
She offered her a candle. Except her friend didn't say a thing. Alma briefly thanked her, making her way through the crowd.
A soft guitar could be heard in the background. One solitary, golden butterfly stretched its wings, and - at a leisurely pace - flew away from the crowd, not looking back. Alma grinned, stepping up onto the lower roof of a bungalow just a metre away, trying to get a good look.
A man on the opposing roof stared at the butterfly, watching as it drifted by, making its way towards him and then disappearing. He looked around, candles illuminating across their village, their home, beacons of joy. He met eyes with Alma. The man waved.
She waved with her free hand, the hand previously on the pole, resulting in her slipping off.
He giggled, before Alma introduced herself, him following suit.
It shifted to them talking and eating by a fountain, the water drizzling and glowing in the moonlight. Neither of the couple had ever been so happy before, beaming, talking about their future together and telling jokes, Alma laughing uncontrollably.
It shifted to their wedding, them kissing, and then preparing for a photo, a photo of which was to be placed on their bedside table.
Alma lifted a cutout, in the shape of a baby, showing him she was pregnant, Pedro now overjoyed. Then she stretched it, showing three babies, and he pretended to faint, falling to edge of the bed, before Alma joined him, them bursting out laughing.
It shifted to them with their triplets. They smiled, looking at their newborn.
They shifted their gaze to see a fire and men on horseback. Their smile turned into a frown as they realised what was going on.
They looked down in sorrow, leading their village to safety. He looked behind to see the three men on horseback from before again. Everyone began rushing away.
"Alma, mi amor, I have to go," he said to his wife, handing her their wedding candle.
For the last time, he kissed each of his babies and his spouse.
He barely mustered a half-smile, Mirabel watching as he surrendered, the love of his life crying like she never had before.
"Pedro! Please, don't go.."
She fell forwards, their wedding candle placed right in front of her. The candlelight glowed stronger, giving birth to an explosion in which blew away all the men on horseback and brought now-rising mountains around her and closing off the river where he died.
Everyone in the village began walking towards her."
"So.. Abuelo Pedro was killed?"