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A mug of xocolatl warmed Bruno’s hands as he stared out of his bedroom window. His mind too active to let him rest, he’d settled on sitting up on his bed while staring at the split mountain in the distance. Not even the monotony of reciting the Rosary could lull him to sleep. At least he didn’t have a headache tonight. He liked to think that the joy of spending time with his sobrinos every day had made him a little healthier from the inside out. That his first vision since coming home had been a good one was a pleasant surprise, too.
Mamá and the village council had asked him about the consequences of having a split mountain. The villagers were understandably worried about the chaos from outside breaching their Encanto. In the vision, Bruno had seen the violence beyond the mountains continuing for more decades, but he’d also seen new people fleeing that violence and finding the Encanto. Families from Bogotá and beyond would find safe haven in the Encanto and help the community grow in return. Seeing bloodshed was and would never be a fun experience, but Bruno was pleased to know that throngs of people would be able to escape and find peace. Mamá looked forward to meeting these people.
Bruno did, too, but he was secretly disappointed to not have seen a particular individual in his vision. He closed his eyes, and amber eyes and curious hands danced across his thoughts. Thinking about Aya had never stopped being painful throughout his stay in the walls, but since learning that she had left the Encanto altogether, the agony of missing her flared anew.
Bruno sipped on the rapidly cooling chocolate to bring him back to the present. He had been tempted many times to look into the future to see if she would return. But the fear of seeing the worst kept stopping him. Julieta and Pepa had no idea where Aya had gone. Ten years was so long to be away from the Encanto. Anything could have happened. Anything bad could have happened. He didn’t want to see. If she were alive and happier outside the Encanto, outside of Colombia, he could be happy for her. If she were happy with someone else, he might be able to accept that, too, but seeing it would certainly break his heart.
The full moon was lighting up the valley so brightly. Bruno couldn’t help but smile remembering how Aya loved looking at the moon. He loved those nights the most. He didn’t need candlelight to see all of her. The cool, gentle glow allowed him to watch her writhe in response to his touch. He missed gliding his hands across her skin. He missed the tickle of her hair against his skin when she spread kisses on his body. He missed just being with her. He missed seeing the way she smiled while watching the fireflies glittering. He missed the way her holding his hand while she talked about exploring the world outside the Encanto. He missed the way she would cling to him when he would sing to her. He missed hearing her sing the songs that she had learned from her parents. It was easy to remember one of his favorites.
La rosa enflorece
En el mez de Mayo
Sufriendo del amor
Mi alma s'eskurese
Sufriendo del amor
Los bilbilikos kantan
Suspirando el amor
I la pasión me mata
Muchigua mi dolor
Mas presto ven, palomba
Mas presto ven a mí
Mas presto tú mi alma
Ke yo me vo morir
He was tipping the mug towards his lips when he heard his own voice humming an old tune. The mug was empty now, and Bruno hadn’t even realized that he’d started singing while lost in thought. Bruno went back to bed and hoped that she was enjoying the moonlight, too, and that she was happy. That thought eased the ache in his heart.