With Such A Hell In Your Heart And Your Head, How Can You Live? How Can You Love?

Hijo Del Corazón

Ship: Camilo/Mirabel

Tags: Fluffy, Late Night Conversations, Implied Cousin Incest.

Warnings: Incest, Cousin Incest.

Synopsis: Little Oscar's two favorite people are his sister Mirabel and his cousin Camilo. And after a nightmare, it is logical for the boy to look for them.

Also posted on AO3

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 At the age of four, Oscar knew that one of his favorite people in the world was his sister Mirabel.

He knew very well that his mother was Julieta. She was the best mother in the world and made the best arepas in the universe... but she was not Mirabel. Mirabel, who knew how to give the best hugs and how to scare away the monsters that sometimes appeared under the bed or insisted on coming out of the closet. It was Mirabel who told him stories before going to sleep no matter how tired she was. It was she who came to his aid after a nightmare and let him sleep in her bed, no matter how much space he took up or how much he moved during the night. Mirabel was the one the boy turned to every time he got hurt, so that she could give him a little kiss on the bruise, which worked almost as well as his mother's arepas. He loved the fact that his older sister always had time for him, no matter how tired or busy she was. There was always time for a hug, kiss or conversation. She paid attention and spent time with him as if he was the most important person in the world at that moment. Mirabel was truly amazing.

He also knew that his other favorite person was his cousin Camilo.

Just as he knew that his mother was Juliet, he also knew that his father was Agustín, and that he was also a wonderful person... But he was not Camilo. Camilo, who in the summers took him fishing and never got angry, even when he talked too loud and scared the fish away. Camilo, who was teaching him to ride a bike and always encouraged him to try again, no matter how many times he fell. It was Camilo who had taught him how to tie his shoelaces, after attempts and attempts at disastrous knots. Mirabel could tell the best bedtime stories, but it was his cousin who made them real, acting out and transforming himself into each of the characters. Oscar wanted to be like Camilo when he grew up, a person who was always concerned about making others happy, and who wouldn't give up until he made you smile.

At the age of five Oscar got his gift. At first he did not understand very well how it worked. Every time the boy held someone's hands, he saw images, like a movie inside his head. They were scenes involving the person whose hands he was holding. Oscar did not yet know how to control what he saw, so the images were random.

They soon realized that the boy's gift was to see into the past, and when he started asking certain compromising questions to some people in the family (Mira, when did you have a baby? Why doesn't he live here with us?), they realized that they would have to do something so that Oscar would not be able to use his powers all the time. For the sake of the child himself, who sooner or later would end up seeing something inappropriate for his age, but also to spare the adults from other embarrassing situations.

The solution found was a pair of gloves. Little black gloves. As long as Oscar was wearing them his gift did not work. It was not a perfect solution, as the boy constantly forgot to put them on, but in time he would learn.

It was late at night, and that day Oscar could not sleep. He had forgotten to put on his gloves when he left home earlier that day, and ended up taking the hand of a man who helped him up from a fall. He didn't know the man, but he didn't like what he saw. The scene was chaotic, with screams, some people running, others being killed. It all lasted no more than five seconds, but it was enough to imprint those terrible images in the mind of the child, who now, every time he could sleep, had nightmares about what he had seen.

The third time he woke up crying and with his heart racing, he decided that he no longer wanted to sleep alone. He left his room, stopping first in front of his parents' room, but giving up just before knocking on the door, heading for Mirabel's room. Once there, he knocked on the door, as lightly as possible, and called softly for his sister. But there was no answer. He knocked again, but there was no answer. He then decided to open the door, only to see that the room was empty.

He didn't understand. Was Mirabel not there? But she was always there when he needed her. Where could she have gone?

He then went to his second option, Camilo. He knocked on the door again, and this time he got an answer. But it wasn't who he expected.

"Oscar? What happened honey?" - Mirabel answered in the middle of a yawn, stooping down to stand at the boy's height. - "Couldn't sleep?"

"You weren't in your room. Why weren't you in your room? I was scared, I thought you were gone." - He began to cry again.

"Shhh, it's ok, I'm here now, aren't I? Sometimes I don't like to sleep alone too."

She noticed that Oscar was without his gloves and was careful not to touch the boy's hands as she picked him up and carried him into the room. She then laid him down on the bed, between her and Camilo, who had woken up with the noise.

"What happened?" - Camilo asked.

Mirabel shrugged lightly, she didn't know either.

"I had bad dreams..." - Oscar replied, snuggling into Mirabel, who hugged him.

"It's all right now. They were just dreams, no one can hurt you here."

Camilo moved a little closer to the two, stroking Oscar's curly hair. The three of them stayed like that for a while, Camilo and Mirabel even believed that Oscar had managed to sleep. Until...

"Mira... can you sing me a song?" - The boy asked, now calmer.

"A song? Which one do you want?"

"Any one."

She thought for a moment, and finally began, in a sweet, soft voice:

Hijo del corazón Deja ya de llorar Junto a ti yo voy a estar y nunca más te han de hacer mal

Tus ojitos de luz El llanto no ha de nublar Ven mi amor nadie nos ha de separar Si te vieran como yo Te darían su calor

Oscar yawned, he could barely keep his eyes open.

Todo aquel que te hizo a ti llorar Te tendría ahora entre sus brazos Hijo mío, mi amor No me importa el sufrir Cómo un sol, tu me das luz y das calor a mi vivir

Mirabel ran her hand through the boy's hair and kissed those auburn curls she loved so much.

Todo aquel que te hizo a ti llorar Te tendría ahora entre sus brazos

Hijo mío, mi amor No me importa el sufrir Cómo un sol, tu me das luz y das calor a mi vivir

Mirabel finished the song. Almost sleeping, little Oscar, nestled in his sister's arms, whispered, before finally falling asleep:

"I wish you were my parents..."

Mirabel and Camilo looked at each other, a little surprised by the boy's speech.

"Sometimes I think he knows more than he lets on. - Camilo said, also almost asleep.

"Who knows?"

Camilo didn't answer, fixing his gaze on the boy his cousin was hugging, at the same time lightly caressing Mirabel's face. They stayed like that for a few minutes, until Camilo kissed her cheek lightly, said good night, and closed his eyes, only to open them the next morning.

Mirabel stayed awake for a little more time, smelling the childish scent that her "brother's" hair exhaled, until she finally fell asleep, with a tiny smile in her lips.

Sometimes people don’t want to hear the truth because they don’t want their illusions destroyed.

Friedrich Nietzsche

i’ll be with you every step of the way. i hope you know that.

“The past doesn’t need you anymore. Your future does.”

— Unknown (via resqectable)

“Get yourself a best friend that will love you when u don’t know how to love yourself and one that will stick by ur side even if u make shitty decisions.”

— Unknown (via stay-close)

“One of the hardest lessons in life is letting go. Whether it’s guilt, love, anger, loss or betrayal, change is never easy. We fight to hold on and we fight to let go.”

— Unknown

AI art and humanity

We are products of our past but we don’t have to be prisoners of it.

Rick Warren

“A falcon who chases a warlike crane can only hope for a life of pain.”

— Gabriel García Márquez, Chronicle of a Death Foretold