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1
The smell of sancocho filled Casita and Camilo’s nostrils. He and Antonio had been playing football outside but he was drawn to the food being cooked on the other side of the house. Call it fate or a curse, but he could sniff out food like a predator. However, with Tía Julieta out of commission with a cold, he wasn’t expecting such delicious food to be whipped up in her absence. Perhaps Abuela had dusted off her skills to take her daughter’s place for the time being.
Either way, he was sneaking a bit of the meal before dinner started.
But, as he entered the kitchen, there was quite the unexpected sight.
Mirabel, covered in flour and her mother’s apron, hair in a high ponytail with wisps falling out of the tie, glasses askew, and running around the kitchen to finish dinner.
“Uh… Mirabel?”
She snapped her head up from the stove, eyes bugged and mouth hanging open, “Huh?”
It all clicked.
Mirabel, the over-achiever, had taken it upon herself to do all the meals for her mother. Even Tía Julieta, who had cooking down to an exact science, had helpers in the kitchen at times. But for some reason, Mirabel didn’t ask anyone else for help. Probably to not ‘bother’ any one and to prove her worth.
Typical.
Even after the fall two years ago, she still had the trauma ingrained in her.
Camilo cleared the distance of the kitchen in the blink of an eye. His arms wrapped around her waist from behind and he rested his chin on her shoulder.
“It smells amazing in here… but you need help.”
“No, it’s fine! I can-”
He silenced her with a sweet kiss on the cheek. “You have nothing to prove, Mira… Come on, at least give me an opportunity to burn Casita to the ground.” The tiles on the counter tapped in a frantic protest, making both teenagers laugh aloud. “It was a joke Casita,” he said with a playful eye roll.
“I promise we’ll get out of this intact, Casita.” Mirabel turned her head and grabbed his hands, smearing flour and some other thick liquid on him. “Together.”
They split up. Mirabel finished off all of the chicken quarters and soup, while Camilo committed to the arepas and rice. He seasoned the rice and piled it into a bowl next to giant pot of the main dish. While he pulled out the bowls to split up the portions, he spotted her out of the corner of his eye.
She was carefully lifting the chicken out of the oven, tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth. Her disheveled appearance was so endearing, as it showed how passionate and committed she was. There wasn’t a single moment in her life where she slacked off in making every moment worth it. Even if it wasn’t enjoyment for herself.
Suddenly, a slap of flour hit him square in the chest. Mirabel looked around innocently, “Oops.”
They had a bit of time before dinner started. What was a little childish indulgence? “Oh, you’ve started a war, mariposa,” he replied, grabbing a sliced tomato as she moved to duck behind the island counter.
Well, sometimes that enjoyment was for herself and the people around her.
2
Mirabel threaded her sewing machine.
It was in the middle of the night and she needed to work on Dolores’ wedding dress in order to have it ready before the end of the month. That would seem like plenty of time but she also had to work on the commissioned school uniforms for the new elementary school and mend Camilo’s old clothes for Antonio and organize the party for Christmas that was coming up and still make time for her chores at the house and-
“Mi vida,” a warm, baritone voice sang from outside her window. The tiple cords accompanied the impromptu music session from down below. A small smile crept upon her fatigued face. “I know you’re not in bed, my sleepy lady.”
With an eye roll, Mirabel stood and walked over to the window to sit on the sill. Camilo was staring up at her, his long hair pulled into a low ponytail and wearing a light blue dress shirt. Of course he was wide awake at this hour. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
“I could ask you the same question,” he continued to sing with random cords thrown in. “I didn’t steal Lola’s tiple for a lecture.”
There was something hilarious about his actually nice musical accompaniment juxtaposed against his silly singing. The thought made her burst into a fit of giggles that was only ceased by his continued song. With a few more beautiful licks, he smiled at her and spoke normally.
“You know, this was spur of the moment. I had a feeling you’d be up slaving away like a little worker bee.”
“Don’t say that too loud, Pa might hear,” she joked, both knowing about Agustín’s fear and allergy of the little creatures.
“Ah- he’d probably be more concerned about me wooing you outside your window,” Camilo grimaced. No one knew of their relationship yet. And the last person he wanted to alert was her father. Agustín was a kind and gentle man, but he did not hold back when it came to his daughters. Camilo could still remember the colorful words he had given Abuela after Mirabel ran off when Casita collapsed. That was not a wrath that he wanted to face. He’d rather deal with Isabela, who, now that he thought of it, probably inherited that fire from her father.
“I think you’re underestimating his fear of bees.”
“And you’re underestimating yourself, queen bee,” he flirted lowly with a wink.
“Interesting. I don’t feel like I’m 10 times the size of everyone else in the family,” Mirabel bantered, trying to not let her heated cheeks be so obvious. They always played back and forth like this, but genuine, romantic affection was still so new to her.
“Size doesn’t matter. You’re my miniature queen bee… That sentence sounds really weird out of context.”
Mirabel chuckled at that, trying to keep her voice down to not wake anyone. After all, everyone else was, like they were supposed to be, sleep.
“Come on, you deserve a night off. Leave the worker bees behind and feel like the queen you are for a night,” he said with outstretched arms, letting the guitar rest behind him on the strap. He really looked like a prince trying to woo a princess out of her castle, corny speech and all. “I’ll sing again.”
His threat made her snort and she swung her feet outside the window to join him, “That won’t be necessary for now… But I may request a song later. You know, royalty honoring and all.” Mirabel wasn’t going to let him know outwardly that his voice was like butter and she couldn’t get enough of it.
Not yet, at least.
3
Camilo could remember their first kiss like it was yesterday.
He was so nervous he was sweating in places he didn’t know he could sweat.
Somehow after losing their magic they were surrounded by butterflies. The two of them left the church they were staying in so he could show her the beautiful sight. The imagery was beautiful.
Mirabel, in a flurry of yellow butterflies with her hand on his chest. She didn’t look as nerve-wracked as he was. Her big hazel eyes were framed by her adorable round glasses. They fit her so well that he hardly ever noticed they were there half the time. Now he was realizing all the little treasures that made her Mirabel and holding them in his heart for safe keeping.
As she tucked a small lock of curly hair behind her ear, she closed her eyes and closed the space between them.
Sweet.
She was so sweet and soft.
Her lips were covered some sort of peppermint balm that was practically inviting him to venture further.
But, she beat him to it.
Mirabel turned her head and licked the seam of his lips, begging to be let him. After getting over the shock of her taking the initiative, he parted his lips, allowing her real taste to graze his tongue. Her arms were wrapping around his waist, certainly not where he expected. So, he followed suite and let his own arms cradle her neck.
And he could almost pass out by how delicious she was. Their tongues shyly tangled together before Mirabel, the bolder of the two, whimpered as she sped up her motions. She lapped at his mouth, savoring every millimeter of him.
Camilo was smitten.
She was putting him under a smell with the just her intoxicating taste.
He could kiss her forever.
Just as he thinking of keeping his morsel of heaven on his tongue for the rest of his life, she pulled back.
As he opened his eyes, he realized they weren’t in the forest surrounded by butterflies. They were in her room and he was kissing her goodnight before he left.
A smile crept on his face.
“What?” she asked with a hint of suspicion. His mischievous streak was still there despite their aging.
Camilo cupped her cheek and grazed her with his thumb gently, “Everytime we kiss it’s like the first time all over again.”
4
He was gorgeous.
He was pretty.
He was too cute.
He was handsome.
There weren’t enough words to describe how she felt about how Camilo looked when he danced. He was theatrical and an absolute clown, but he had a grace about him that could charm any woman in the vicinity.
Even now as she watched him at Dolores and Mariano’s wedding reception, he was going through girl after girl. Family members, friends, girls who were interested in him, all were getting a turn at dancing with the extroverted shapeshifter.
Of course, she wasn’t sitting around idly the entire night making it obvious how hard she was pining. Mirabel was also dancing with everyone around, talking and drinking along the way.
But, there was only one guy she was interested in dancing with.
She had taken a break, hiding in a dark corner nursing her wine while she watched the scene.
There were times like these she did feel a little insecure.
The frumpy cousin who was secretly dating Camilo. Why would he even bother with her when he could have any other girl in the Encanto? Would he possibly be more interested in someone else after seeing how it could be tonight? Was he even thinking of her at all that night? She wasn’t crazy. He didn’t need to spend every waking moment worshiping her, but it would be nice to know that he had been stealing glances at her like she had at him. Did he even remember their relationship? Was he-
“Mirabel?”
At some point in her internal rambling, he had walked up to her in the corner. She glanced up at his jade green eyes. The same eyes she had been staring at all night. There was almost an ethereal glow around his dark auburn hair that crowned his head. The goatee and mustache he had grown coupled with his slightly unbuttoned dress shirt that allowed a few chest hairs to peek through gave him the appearance of a man, not the young boy she had known for so long.
“You’re gorgeous,” she blurted out, making his eyes widen slightly. He laughed lightly and took one of her hands to kiss her knuckles, keeping eye contact with a smirk.
“Likewise… May I have this dance?”
She couldn’t remember a single doubt she had before that.
5
Camilo never understood why Mirabel was so adverse to holding hands.
He tried on many occasions but she always broke the hold mid-conversation.
Today, she wasn’t getting out of it.
They walked through the forest at sunrise, having spent the entire night after the wedding dancing in the woods and singing to each other. It was amazing how every single moment together felt as if they were on their first date again.
Just as she was telling him about Tío Bruno’s first time doing the tango with Félix of all people, he gently laced his fingers through hers, still paying attention intently and watching her excited facial expressions. However, all of a sudden, she seemed to clam up and bit her lip. So much for not making her nervous and being subtle. “S-So then he says that it wouldn’t be forbidden if people who were supposed to dance together always did it. And-”
“Why do you never want to hold my hand?” he asked quietly. Camilo always felt like their hands fit together perfectly. Mirabel was small in all the places he was huge, a fact that made him giddier than he could freely admit. But, her reluctance to do such a tiny act of intimacy made him worry that he had done something wrong. “Did I-”
“No. It’s not you.. It’s just,” she trailed off and sighed. She suddenly stopped walking, “You know the first thing Tío Bruno said to me?”
Camilo raised an eyebrow, “You mean after you chased him down like prey in the walls?”
“Yeah… He, uh, he said I was really sweaty,” Mirabel said while pulling her hand away from his and fidgeting.
“That’s weird to say after you were running around but, okay… And?”
“I have sweaty hands,” she confessed quietly.
“…So?”
Mirabel donned look of irritation and confusion, “What do you mean ‘so’? It’s gross! I don’t want you thinking I’m all nasty and sweaty.”
“Mirabel, you really think me, of all people, would care about that? I’m not exactly known for my sparkling cleanliness,” he raised his voice with exasperation. “Besides, I love you. All of you, including your nasty, sweaty hands.”
To prove his point, he grabbed her hand and smeared the layer of sweat on his own hand. “Camilo! Really?”
“It’s like a blood pact, but with sweat.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re sweaty. See? We’re made for each other,” he purred, pulling her in for a hug. Her hand was still trapped in his and his other arm held her firmly around her waist. They both knew she wasn’t going anywhere, but it helped to ground her as much as possible when she got insecure like this. “Mira, I love every part of you. Touching you is like a dream, no matter what part of you it is.”
Mirabel looked up at him, a small frown of disbelief darted across her features before she sighed. “I should have known… By the way, I like touching you, too.”
“Who wouldn’t?”
She smacked his chest and they both laughed lightly, basking in the glow of the morning and the precious gift of touch they’d given to each other.
+1
Something was wrong.
Every single one of her family members was not in town, save for Antonio who was at her side. None of the villagers had seen them for a few hours and now they were headed back to Casita. The sun was setting, sure, but it was still not right that the two youngest Madrigals were the only ones who weren’t home.
Mirabel tried to stay calm. She tried to not think about the horrible conclusions she could draw from this situation. She tried to push down thoughts of some terrible accident happening and nobody wanting to tell the two of them. It was difficult to not consider that the magic might be in danger again.
No. She had to remain calm.
She wiped her sweaty palm onto her yellow skirt. Camilo had gotten it for her for Christmas, after which she embroidered it to make it her own. The color was now bubbling up her panic in her throat since it reminded her so much of him. Hopefully Camilo and everyone else was alright.
As she and Antonio briskly walked up to the doors, they opened to reveal her two tíos, dressed in all white. It was bizarre enough to see Félix dolled up, as he was the life of the party, not necessarily a formal man. However, seeing Bruno in a crisp white dress shirt nearly sent her into another dimension from disbelief.
Antonio ran through the doors and left Mirabel there staring at the two men who both offered her their hands to guide her through.
“Umm, what’s going o-…. on?”
As she entered, she was stunned into silence. The path was littered with rose petals and lined with little candles. Much like at each ceremony, Casita had made a staircase that led to the second floor. Tía Pepa was in front of her directing her towards the path with a flourish of her hand. She had a rainbow gleaming above her.
“Like a river flows,” Isabela, also dressed in white, sung at her right side alongside the path.
Mirabel was confused at this point. But before she could ask again, Luisa on her left sung as well, “Surely to the sea.”
She recognized this song.
It was an American song that she and Camilo had fallen in love with when they got the record through trade. Never did she think it would be sung to her like this.
“Darling so it goes,” Dolores and Mariano sang in harmony at the bottom of the staircase. Mirabel climbed the steps, overwhelmed by the entire ordeal. Had they really done this all for her?
“Some things are meant to be,” her parents sang. They were on either side of the staircase at the top.
In the center was Camilo.
He wore a dark blue guayabera and slacks. For once he even had dress shoes on to compliment his formal look. If she didn’t know any better she’d think he had a tear in his eye. “Take my hand,” he sung to her in that baritone voice she loved so much. His hand was outstretched, taking her own as she reached the top of the stairs. “Take my whole life too. For I can’t help falling in love with you.”
Mirabel’s eyes were welling with heavy tears. She had to close her eyes to not completely break down and felt his warm hand caress her cheek. So he had told the family about their relationship? Everyone? Even her father?
Before she could take a glance to see if her father was seething at Camilo for whatever reason, he brought his attention back to her, “Mirabel. I… Wow, I had everything planned out and just seeing you. Whew… Ahem, okay. Mirabel, I really don’t know how I got this far without having you by my side. You are the most… selfless, kindest… drop-dead gorgeous woman I have ever met. I know I could never measure up to you, but I hope you’ll give me a chance to try.”
As he took a step back from her, he dropped down on one knee, stealing her breath away. Camilo shook violently as he pulled the ring out of his shirt pocket and presented it to her.
This should have been obvious with the setup, but just the vision of him down there to…
Mirabel lost control at that point and began to cry ugly tears that almost drowned out his next words.
“Will you marry me?”
His face was contorted in a fit of nervousness that seemed so uncharacteristic of Camilo. His bravado was always on full display. He was carefree and boisterous.
This man in front of her was terrified of rejection.
She wouldn’t dare consummate those fears.
With a giant sniff and a deep breath she finally found her voice, “One condition.”
Camilo’s eyes doubled in size, “Anything.”
“You take my last name.”
He burst into a loud laugh, finally breaking his air of tension. “Absolutely.”
“Then, yes,” Mirabel said, her glasses nearly falling off her face as he shot up and spun her around.
“Haha! Yes! Tío you were right!”
“I’m always right,” Bruno yelled out with a smile.
“Look, everyone, I have a fiancé!” he shouted.
It suddenly hit her, “We’re engaged. We’re getting married!” Mirabel clutched his shoulders tightly and squealed at the realization.
When her feet hit the ground, she stuck out her finger to finally accept the ring. The family was surrounding them with congratulations and hugs.
But, she was only fixated on one.
Luckily, she was all the he focused on as well.
Earlier she had sensed something was off. And she was right. However, instead of something terrible, it turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to her.
🦎🦋