PAIRINGS: Pepa Madrigal & Her Gift, Bruno Madrigal & Julieta Madrigal & Pepa Madrigal
TAGS: Pre-Canon, Childhood, Snapshots, POV Third Person Limited
Light Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort
Fluff, Sibling Bonding, Protective Siblings, Sibling Love, Emotions, Minor Pepa Madrigal & "Abuela" Alma Madrigal, Pepa Madrigal-centric, Hopeful Ending
Pepa Madrigal Has Weather Powers, Pepa Madrigal Needs a Hug, No "Abuela" Alma Madrigal Bashing, "Abuela" Alma Madrigal Tries
WARNING: Not Beta Read
Pepa opens the shiny, bright door of her new bedroom to a wide meadow, bright green grass going on and on and around the lake with shiny, clear water. Tall trees with green leaves surround the lake and stand at the sides of the room, colorful flowers among the leaves. Flowers add colors to the green grass too, purple and pink and orange and yellow, prettier and shining under the clear sky. There's a house in the middle of the meadow, its walls made of windows like the house señora Ozma keeps her garden in, and she can see her bed and desk and wardrobe inside, with a carpet on the floor.
Pepa's jaw drops, standing stunned only a step inside her room. Then she grins as wide as she can. "Mamá!" she shouts in glee. "Bruno, Julieta!" She hurries to take off her shoes, almost falling, then runs inside her room, laughing. She spins on herself, the grass and flowers soft and fresh and ticklish under her feet, the dirt prickling her skin, taking her room all in even as it spins with her, then jumps in place fast and excitedly, squealing. "Mamá, come see my new room, quick, quick!"
"Mamá, come see my room!" Juileta shouts too. "It's so big! Bigger on the inside!"
"Mamá, sand!" Bruno shouts. "So much sand!"
Pepa giggles, happy they all have bigger on the inside rooms, special ones for each of them too, and lets herself fall on her stomach on the floor. She rolls on her sides back and forth in the grass, breathing in the sweet, flowery scent all over her room.
Her mamá gasps. "Pepa!"
Pepa scrambles to her feet, absentmindedly noticing the taller grass and flowers in full bloom, and the fruits on the trees. She spreads her arms wide. "Mamá, look!"
Her mamá is looking, standing in the doorway, but not at her room. She's looking straight at her—no, above her, her hand covering her mouth. Pepa looks up too.
A white cloud is above her head, with a sun shining above it, hidden a little behind the cloud at the bottom. Not above her head as in the sky, but right above her head.
[A white cloud with the sun shining above it—happiness.]
Pepa's jaw drops again, her eyes widening. Her mouth and eyes stay wide open, but a slow, amazed grin pulls at her lips as she watches a rainbow appears over the white cloud, the purple stripe first, then the indigo, blue, green, yellow, orange and red one.
[A white cloud with the sun shining above it, with a rainbow over the cloud—wonder.]
Pepa kneads her dough more forcefully than necessary, but still distractedly as her attention keeps slipping somewhere else. Bruno mixes his own dough next to her, careful to add just the right amount of flour and water. Julieta sits across from them at the table, carefully going through her own dough, putting one arepa after another on the baking sheet next to her, while their mamá is cooking the arepas they've already made at the stove.
There's both some of Bruno's arepas and hers too on the baking sheet, and her arepas look the worse. They're too thin in the middle with most of the dough gathered on the sides, or not round enough, the dough all over the place in a weird shape, or something, every time.
"The one on the far left looks just like you," Bruno whispers, leaning in.
Julieta giggles, and though a smile pulls at Pepa's lips too, her lightning still strikes down between Bruno and her. "Shut up."
Bruno jumps, then makes a show of putting distance between them. The burnt wood where the table was hit smokes, a shadow softly cackling above her, and she kneads her dough even rougher.
[A dark grey cloud lighting up with lightnings—frustration.]
Pepa swipes her hand and fingers on the edge of the bowl to get rid of as much dough as she can, then ducks under the table, coming out on the other side next to Julieta.
Julieta protectively slides her bowl closer to her, frowning. "No way, Pepa, you're dirty now."
"I'm not," she says, elbowing her in the side. "I didn't touch anything." She covers her hands with a bit of floor, rubbing them against each other's so they won't stick to the dough, but Julieta covers her bowl with her arms when she reaches for it.
"My dough."
"Come on, Juli! Just one, I know I can do it right this time."
"No way, you didn't wash your hands."
"They're clean!" She reaches for the bowl again but Julieta pushes her hand away with one of hers, tugs at Julieta's arms but she doesn't budge, then tries to take the bowl away from her entirely.
Julieta holds on strong, and they tug at her bowl back and forth between them. "No, Pepa, I said no! You don't even know how to do it!"
"Mamá, they're fighting," Bruno says.
"No fighting, niños," their mamá chides them gently.
"Yes, Mamá," they say, but neither of them give in.
Pepa pinches Julieta's arm hard, and wastes no time pulling her bowl to her when Julieta yelps, letting it go. She plucks a bit of dough for herself before Julieta forcefully takes her bowl back.
"Pepa!" she shouts, upset, but Pepa only grins. Julieta puts her bowl on her other side, protectively holding onto it. "Just this one, even if you don't do it right."
"I only need this one anyway, because I'll do it right. Bruno, just you watch this."
Pepa carefully, carefully shapes the dough between her hands the way she's looked at Julieta do it, rolling it between her hands, watching the amount of strength she uses and where the dough gathers so she can spread it to where she wants it to be. She slowly lowers her hands, and holds her breath as she opens them on her arepa.
It doesn't look good, curly at the edges in a not round shape, and bumpy because of the dough gathered together at different places.
"See?" Julieta says, pleased, while Bruno laughs.
Pepa slams her arepa on the table, her lightning striking down strongly on it in the next instant, the white light blinding her, and the sharp noise making her jump. Her arepa explodes, and they scream as bits fly in every direction, Bruno falling from his chair. Her lightning catches on to the tray with the baking sheet, jolting it from the table and clattering it against it, and Julieta's arm strikes out in surprise, shattering her bowl on the floor.
There's a second of stunned silence, then a smile pulls at Pepa's lips, laughter about to tumble from her lips just like the other times before, the same expression on Julieta's face when she looks at her—
"Pepa!" Julieta's face falls, worry taking over, and Pepa's stomach twists. "Oh, Dios mío, Brunito!" Their mamá hurries to Bruno's side, Casita moving the floor to get the shards of glass out of her way, then kneels in front of him to help him stand up. "Are you okay?" she asks, running her hands over his body, through his hair, then cups his face. "Does it hurt anywhere?"
"I'm fine, Mamá," Bruno says, his voice small, glancing at her.
Their mamá sits him back on his chair, then kisses his head before coming to them. She runs her hands down Julieta's arms, then turns them this side and that side to look at them. "Julieta?"
"I'm okay too, Mamá," Julieta says, her voice small and quiet like Bruno's.
"Pepa?" Her mamá asks, lifting her face with her fingers under her chin. Pepa just shakes her head. Her mamá breathes out, and kisses their heads too before putting her hands over her heart, taking them in. "Gracias. Gracias a Dios…"
Pepa waits for the rest to come, wringing her fingers. The electricity in the air tingles her skin and makes all of their hair sticks up in all directions, but it's not so funny anymore, and neither are the burnt marks on the table, or the cracked bowls, or the burnt bits of dough everywhere in the kitchen.
[A thin-like, dark grey cloud spreading above her head—shame.]
Her mamá puts her hand on her hip, letting the other one over her heart, and purses her lips. "Pepa… this is dangerous. You could have hurt any of us, your siblings, even yourself! Do you understand?"
Pepa widens her eyes, snapping her eyes to Julieta and Bruno, then back to her mamá. "Mamá, I didn't—!" She stumbles over her words, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, I—"
[A dark grey cloud like it's about to burst and fall on her head, heavy, sticky air clinging on her like a blanket trying to suffocate her—guilt.]
"I know, Pepa, I know, but…" She glances up, then down at her again. "We can't let your cloud be all the time, do you understand? You can't let it be all the time."
Pepa feels struck. Her mamá has said to her before to be careful with her cloud, careful with where she is and with who she is depending on the weather of her cloud, but it's the first time she tells her to stop it.
To stop her cloud, but her mamá has said it appears when she feels strong feelings, and she doesn't know how to stop feeling. And she's been trying to learn, has been trying to control her cloud all this time when her mamá was only telling her to be careful with it, but it appears all on its own whether she wants it to or not, and disappears all on its own too whether she wants it gone or not.
She looks down, tears prickling her eyes. "I'm sorry, Mamá."
It won't be the last time she'll apologize for her cloud.
Her mamá sighs. She sounds gentle then when she speaks, her hand soft as she pets her hair, but Pepa's tears still keep welling up in her eyes. "Maybe you should leave this to us, Pepa. Wait with Casita until we're done. We need to figure out how Julieta's gift works, it's important. We'll call you when it's done so we can eat the arepas together, alright?"
"Okay."
Pepa leaves the kitchen, but stands in front of the doorway, figuring out she can at least watch and still be with her family like that. But the sight of them cooking without her makes tears drip down her cheeks, and when her cloud starts raining, she runs to her room before either of them can say anything.
It won't be the last time she hides her cloud in the safety of her room.
[A raining dark grey cloud—sadness.]
Pepa sits in front of their rooms with Bruno and Julieta, their legs dangling over the courtyard, squeezed between the bars of the railing. They're barefoot, Pepa's dress, Julieta's skirt, and Bruno's pants hiked up so they won't get wet.
The rain falls hard and heavy and dense, sounding like an off-tune, muffled drum as it hits against the courtyard, the clouds and sky dark as if it'll soon be night. Pepa leans her head against one of the railing's bar, pouting. So much for them playing outside today.
[A small dull grey cloud—disappointment.]
"Are you doing this, Pepa?" Bruno asks.
Pepa punches his arm, and he cries out.
Julieta laughs, reaching behind Pepa to pinch him in the side. "You deserved that."
"Ow!" he says, arching his back away from her, cradling his arm. "What? It could have been her." He shoves Pepa with his shoulder, hard enough she shoves Julieta in turn without meaning to.
"Hey, Pepa?" Julieta asks.
"Yeah?"
"Maybe it really could have been you?"
Pepa frowns. "What do you mean?"
"Maybe one day you'll be able to control the whole sky like that too," she says, framing the sky with her arms through the railing's bars.
Pepa frowns harder, dubiously looking at the sky. It's wide, and spreads over the whole world, doesn't it? "I don't think so."
"But you do it in your room," Bruno says.
"It's just my room," she says, shrugging. "And I'm sure it's only because of Casita. Because of the candle."
"Maybe when you'll be older," Julieta says.
"What if she gets older?" Bruno asks.
"Because older people feel much, much more than us, don't they? Mamá always say she loves us more than anything in the world."
"So?"
"Bruno," Julieta says, awe in her voice, leaning back so she can look at him past Pepa, holding onto the railing's bars, "if she loves us more than anything in the world, then it means she loves us more than all the things in the world. All the things," she says again, freeing one of her arm to spread it wide in an encompassing manner. "And all the things in the world put together makes the whole world. So it means she loves us as big as the world is!"
"Ohhhh!" Bruno drawls out in realization and excitement. "Then, Pepa—"
Pepa flops down on her back. "I don't want to be able to do that."
"Why not?" Julieta asks.
Pepa shrugs, but she knows why. Her cloud gives everyone enough trouble as it is, so if she could control the whole sky? She doesn't want to even think about it. She can't even control her own, little cloud after all.
"I still think it'd be cool if you could," Bruno says, lying down next to her.
"It's dirty, you know," Julieta says.
"'It's dirty, you know,'" Bruno and her repeat in a mocking voice, then laugh.
Julieta slaps her thigh. "Hey!" Casita opens the door of their rooms slowly, making them creak in a drawled out, sad noise. "Oh no, Casita, lo siento." She gently pats the floor. "I know you stay very clean for us."
Casita closes the door of their rooms, and happily clacks the floor in the courtyard, jolting the floor in a wave underneath them, and they laugh. Bruno and her exchange a knowing look when Julieta lies down next to her too, and she elbows her in the side as they do.
"I'm bored," Bruno says soon enough, breaking their comfortable silence. "Hey, Pepa?"
"Yeah?"
"Maybe you can make it sunny just for us?"
Pepa frowns, opening her mouth, but Julieta shots upwards, pulling her legs away from between the railing's bars so she can turn to her. "Oh, he's right! Pepa, what if you make just your cloud sunny? Then we can play outside underneath your cloud, and still stay dry!"
"Right?" Bruno says, sitting up too. They both grin excitedly, but Pepa isn't so sure about their plan.
"I don't know," she says, sitting up slowly, looking up at her cloud. It's back to her normal cloud, but smaller than usual, and still light grey. "You know I can't control it."
"You just have to be happy," Bruno says.
Pepa huffs, crossing her arms on her chest. "What if I'm not happy right now? It's not easy, Bruno."
"I know, I know," Bruno says apologetically, raising his hands in surrender. "But I'm sure you can do it! You're the Weather Goddess after all."
A startled, delighted laughter tumble from her lips, but she purses them then, still trying to look upset. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah, Pepa!" Julieta says, leaning into her in a side hug, holding onto her shoulder and her arm. "You can make any type of weather you want, I know you can do it too."
Bruno clasps his hands together, closing his eyes. "Weather Goddess, Weather Goddess, please, give us a sunny sky."
Pepa laughs again, playfully shoving him.
"You can always try at least, Pepa," Julieta says. "Don't you want us to play too?"
Pepa looks at them back and forth, their grin and excitement getting to her before long. "Fine, I'll try. But don't get mad if I can't do it, alright?"
"Promise," they say right away.
Pepa grins. "Alright, let's go!"
They cheer, and all three of them hurry on their feet and put on their shoes, her cloud blowing a breeze around them. They run down the hall then down the stairs, and stop short of stepping into the courtyard, away from the safety of the ceiling above them. Casita still jolts the floor underneath them, pushing them back, and they fall on their butts.
"Casita!" they groan at the same time.
"Ow, Casita," Julieta says, standing up while rubbing her butt. "We're not going to walk under the rain, okay? Promise."
"Yeah, Casita," Bruno says. "Mi hermana favorita, Pepa here, will give us the sun first!"
"I'll try."
They slowly step to the edge of the hall again, looking down at the floor, making sure Casita won't push them back again. Pepa breathes in deeply and exhales slowly, then closes her eyes, absentmindedly wringing her fingers.
"Sunny cloud, sunny cloud," she whispers to herself. "Happy, bright, sunny cloud. White cloud with a bright sun so you can play. Happy thoughts, you're happy now, Pepa, sunny cloud, sunny cloud…" She squeezes her eyes tight, imagining a clear blue sky with a bright big sun.
Bruno gasps.
"Pepa!" Julieta calls out excitedly, holding onto her arm, then jumps up and down. "Pepa, look, look!"
Pepa snaps her eyes open, looking up. Her cloud is a bit grey still, the sun shyly peeking above it, but it rises fully and brightly above her cloud in a blink as she laughs, grinning wide, her cloud turning a pure white, growing wider until it covers all three of them.
"I did it, I did it!" she shouts, jumping up and down, looking at Julieta and Bruno back and forth.
"You did it, you did it!" they echo her, jumping up and down too.
"Come on!" Bruno says, pulling at her arm, and both him and Julieta stay close to her as they walk into the courtyard, holding onto her arms.
Her cloud holds strong above them, the rain falling all around them, but not one drop rains down on them. Pepa's neck starts to hurt as she keeps looking at her cloud, but she doesn't care.
[A white cloud growing taller in height, with the sun shining above it—pride.]
They walk further into the courtyard, giggling at the fact they stay dry despite the rain, throwing a hand or foot out under the rain to drive that fact even more home, and giggle harder when they catch each other's eye.
"This is nice, Pepa, but we still can't really play like that, you know," Bruno says. "We don't have enough space."
"Then why don't we play at…" Julieta marks a purposeful, dramatic pose, grinning under their curious eyes "...pushing Bruno away so Pepa and I have more space!" she finishes, reaching behind Pepa to push Bruno forwards.
He stumbles half under the rain, yelping, almost taking Pepa with him, and quickly backs against her again, back under the safety of her cloud.
Julieta and her laugh, and Bruno turns to them, grinning. "You're so on, Juli!"
They take chase, running after each other and spinning her between them as they do, neither of them letting go of her arm or willing to step away from her cloud. They reach for each other trying to push the other away, pushing and shoving her back and forth between them.
"Hey, don't push me!" she warns, but it's lighthearted, her laughter mixing with theirs.
They inevitably do push her right on the wet floor, the water splashing on her face, and instantly seeping through her dress, cold against her skin. Julieta and Bruno yelp, Pepa's cloud having followed her on the floor away from them, screaming under the rain. They're soaked when she sits up and looks at them, their clothes and hair sticking to their skin, their arms above their heads, but it doesn't do anything.
They hurry to crouch under her cloud again, but she pettily stands and moves away from them.
"Pepa!" they shout, hurrying back under her cloud, but there's laughter more than anything else in their voice.
Pepa sticks them her tongue out, then takes off running.
"Pepa, wait!"
"Pepa!"
Pepa bursts out laughing, just as loud as Julieta and Bruno, and they chase each other until their mamá tells them to go back inside.
[White clouds with bumpy bottoms as if carrying something, with the sun shining above them—love.]
"Come on, Juli, just try it," Pepa says, her top spinning on the palm of her hand.
"I already said no. You just want to laugh at me anyway."
"Not true." She pulls at the string, twirling her top around her hand and down her arm, the string unfurling from around her arm, then sways the top a bit between the two strings before throwing it in the air back on her palm. She grins at Julieta. "Cool, right? I can show you how to do it."
"Yes true," Julieta ignores her, throwing her top forwards, letting it spin a bit on the floor before pulling it back to her. It's the only thing she's been doing with it since they've left home. "And you wouldn't even care that I'm the one carrying the basket." Pepa gives her a disbelieving, pointed look. "What? It's true!" Julieta defends, pointedly rising her arm with the basket hooked at her elbow, but she's fighting back a smile. "It makes it more difficult for me to use my top."
"Oh, buenas tardes, Julieta, Pepa!" señora Ortiz greets them from her window.
"Buenas tardes," they greet back at the same time.
"Where to?"
"Señor Vásquez's sick," Julieta says. "We're bringing him some arepas."
"My back could use some of your arepas too," she says, then laughs loudly at her own joke.
Julieta and her giggle, waving goodbye as they walk past her house.
"Come on, Juli, I'll teach you how," she says, bumping their shoulders together.
She does her corkscrew trick from the beginning again, slower and pausing between the different steps, walking Julieta through it as she does. Julieta fails her first attempts, the top almost hitting Pepa in the face, but only needs a few more pointers to do it right the next time.
She beams at her, jumping a little. "I did it!"
"You did, you did!" Pepa praises, jumping too. "Okay, now try to do this one." She wraps the string back around her top, and is about to throw it again when Julieta makes a strangled, surprised scream. She falls on her face, the arepas falling from the basket and rolling away on the street. "Julieta!" she shouts, kneeling next to her. "Are you okay?"
"The arepas!" Julieta leans on her arm, reaching out with the other one, but the arepas are all dirty now, and the basket is empty. "Oh no, Pepa, what are we going to do?"
"Julieta, you okay?" Señor Bello kneels next to her on her other side, and helps her sit up. "Okay, let me see what we've got here?" he says, gently dusting her clothes. Her legs are scratched but not bleeding, her arms and face dirty, but not hurt. "Ah, just a graze, that's great," he says with a smile, reassuringly patting her back. "It's too bad for the arepas, but you can always make more, right?" He helps her stand up. "Come on, let me make your wound all better, and maybe you'll smile again then, eh?"
He nudges her face playfully, but Julieta doesn't smile, doesn't even look at him. She still looks at the arepas on the floor, wide-eyed, a wobble in her lips, lines creasing her forehead.
Pepa doesn't look at the arepas, keeping her eyes on her as they walk to señor Bello's house. Their mamá would have brought the arepas herself to señor Vásquez, but Bruno's sick too, and she's told them to be careful, but now they have to go back home so Julieta can cook other arepas again, and tell their mamá what happened to the ones she'd already done—
Pepa bites her lip, swallowing thickly, wringing her fingers.
[A shapeless, dark blue-grey cloud, cold air making her shiver—fear.]
Julieta doesn't talk, not even thanking señor Bello after he took care of her scratches. She says nothing when Pepa takes her by her hand either, leading them back home, holding onto the basket with her free hand, their tops inside it.
Casita opens the door for them, and Pepa stops them in the courtyard.
"Julieta, Pepa, are you back already?" their mamá calls out.
Julieta squeezes her hand tighter, pressing against her. Pepa takes half a step in front of her, straightening her back, then lifts her head high, squeezing her hand back.
[Rays of sunshine piercing through a shapeless, dark blue-grey cloud—bravery.]
Their mamá comes out of Bruno's room, climbs down the stairs, and frowns at Julieta's legs as she walks closer to them. She kneels in front of her. "Julieta, what happened to you? Are you okay?"
Julieta nods, her head bowed down.
"She fell, Mamá," Pepa says.
"Really? That's not like you, mamacita." She brushes the band-aids on her legs. "Who did this?"
"Señor Bello," Pepa says.
"Then I hope you made sure to thank him, Juli." She stands, kissing the top of Julieta's head, then takes the basket from Pepa. "Is señor Vásquez better now?" She turns back, walking away, but turns around again when neither of them say anything. "What is it?"
Pepa's voice is small and strangled. "The—the arepas fell too, Mamá."
"What? How?"
"They fell too when Julieta fell, all of them, so she needs to cook some again before…"
Her mamá frowns, opening her mouth again but says nothing, looking at them back and forth. She looks at the basket, frowning deeper as if she only now really sees their tops inside. "Were you playing around again?"
"It's my fault, Mamá," Pepa hurries to say. "I was playing with my top, and was making Julieta look at me—"
"Pepa." Pepa snaps her mouth shut, almost stepping back. [The rays of sunshine in her cloud dim.] Her mamá puts her hand on her hip. "I told you both to be careful, didn't I? There's a time to play around, and a time to be responsible with the miracles the candle gave you. Now señor Vásquez will have to be in more pain while Julieta cooks again, did you think about that?"
"Mamá, don't be mad at her, it's my fault!" Julieta says suddenly, stepping forwards. "It's my fault!"
Their Mamá blinks in surprise, then frowns in confusion, and Pepa tries to not let it hurt her. "You, Julieta?"
Julieta bursts into tears, falling on her knees. "I'm sorry, Mamá, I'm sorry! I wasn't looking, and there was this bump on the road—"
"No, Mamá, it's my fault!" Pepa shouts, stepping forwards too. "I'm the one—"
"Enough, enough!" They fall silent except for Julieta's sobs, and Pepa tries to blink her own tears out of her eyes, her sight blurry. "I will not stand for lies from my children. I want the truth, do you hear me?" She sternly looks at them back and forth, her hand raised in front of her. "Whose fault was it?" Pepa opens her mouth. "The truth, Pepa."
Pepa closes her mouth, swallows thickly. She nods. "It was my fault, Mamá."
Her mamá looks above her.
[A dark blue-grey cloud spreading above her head, heavy, sticky cold air clinging to her like a blanket trying to suffocate her—fear and guilt and shame.]
She looks back down at her, pursing her lips.
Pepa's breath catches in her throat, her mouth falling open, her eyes widening. She stumbles back, a coiling weight in the pit of her stomach.
She'll never be able to lie to her mamá—to anyone ever again.
[A heap of patchy, dark blue-grey clouds spreading high, towering above her, cold air making her shiver—distraughtness.]
Pepa stands on top of the church's stairs, the villagers gathered together inside, the just-married couple, Bruno, Julieta and their mamá at the front. The sky was cloudy when they all gathered together for the ceremony, but now it looks like it's about to rain any second now, or worse, strong winds blowing. It's up to Pepa to bring back the sun so they can celebrate at the town square, or at least so señor and señora Díez's candle won't flicker out as soon as they step out of the church.
She now knows she can control the sky too on top of her cloud, part of it anyway that follows her wherever she goes, has done it before, but it was never on purpose. Her mamá nods encouragingly, smiling, the villagers nodding and smiling encouragingly too, some of them cheering her on out loud. Except…
Except they don't look so encouraging when her cloud is bothering them. Pepa knows their smiling faces, but knows how they look when they're not smiling too because of her rain, or wind, or lightnings, even when she does her best to make it stop, even when she always agrees to move away from them, taking her cloud with her until she can make it stop.
The rain starts falling, slow and little at first, and she hopes it won't worsen, but when everyone falls quiet behind her, it turns heavier, the sky turning darker. Pepa's stomach twists in knots, but she isn't sorry.
[A line of dark grey clouds touching with each other, lighting up with lightnings—resentment.]
Her cloud can rain, and blow wind, and make lightnings too, but they're never so encouraging when it does, never so patient, never wants her to just let it go away on its own the way it appeared on its own in the first place. Even her mamá always pushes her to learn to control her cloud, would rather she doesn't have her cloud at all sometimes even if she's never said it like that, unless they need her cloud, and then it doesn't matter if it doesn't go away right away, or if it does too much of what they need, or if Pepa just lets it be above her head.
Which is it?
Which one is it they'd rather she does with her cloud?
It isn't fair they want her to do both, but are only happy with one of these.
Lightning bolts strike from the sky and her cloud, muffling the surprised screams behind her, the rain falling heavy from her cloud too. The wind blows stronger, her dress billowing around her legs and her hair getting in her face, the doors of the church banging loudly against the walls.
[Dark grey clouds rising high together like a tower, raining and thundering, a strong wind spinning around her—anger.]
"Pepa!" Bruno shouts, and her wind slows down.
Next thing she knows, Bruno is tickling her. Pepa jolts, squealing, arching her back, instinctively moving away from him, but Bruno follows her, quickly moving his fingers along her sides.
"Bruno!" She turns to face him, laughing, but now Bruno can tickle her belly too. "What are you—doing? Sto—" Her voice catches on a squeal turning into a burst of laughter, Bruno tickling the crook of her neck.
Pepa frantically twists away from him, trying to shield herself from his hands, and they inevitably fall, slipping on the wet floor. Bruno still doesn't stop for a second, grinning down at her, tickling her sides and her belly, and the crook of her neck and under her chin. Before long she's laughing at the top of her voice until it almost hurts, tears rolling down her cheeks.
"Stop—it—!" She's breathless, weakly trying to shield herself from him. "Bruno, stop! Stop!" She lunges at him, successfully pushing him on his back, and it's her turn now.
"Wait, Pepa—" She doesn't, tickling him everywhere she can reach, and he laughs very loud right away, has always been the most ticklish of the three of them. "Wait, please, I'm sorry—" Yes, he will be. She tickles him even harder. "Pepa, the sun!" he cries out suddenly, and she freezes. "The sun," he breathes out again, catching his breath. "Look."
The sun shines down brightly on the street to the house across from the church, the puddles from her rain gleaming under it. It's sunny only as wide as the house is, the rest of the street shadowed by the dark sky and clouds above, though it stopped raining, but Pepa was never meant to bring the sun back to the whole sky anyway.
"Oh, you really did it, niño!"
Pepa startles. Everyone got closer, squeezing in the doorway behind her mamá and Julieta, peaking their heads outside. They look up at her cloud, then confidently spill outside at the same time, cheering and smiling and laughing with each other.
"Thank you, Pepa," señor and señora Díez say, señora Díez stroking her hair, and it's a relief to see their candle is still lit.
"Well, are you planning to just stay on the floor?" their mamá says, her hands on her hips, but she's smiling. Julieta is beaming next to her, grinning from ear to ear. Bruno and her stand sheepishly, and try to adjust their clothes even more sheepishly, their soaked state and dirt marks even more visible on Bruno's white clothes. "No, I don't think there's anything left to do at this point," their mamá says, crouching in front of them, hiking up her dress a bit as she does. She looks at them up and down, then laughs, shaking her head. "Niños."
They let themselves laugh a little too. "Sorry, Mamá," they say at the same time.
"It's fine, but we need to find you other clothes." She tucks Pepa's loose strands of hair back into her braid, then cups her cheeks. "You did good, Pepa."
Pepa beams. "Thank you, Mamá."
[Light strands of a white cloud, with the sun shining above them—relief.]
"Señora Alma," someone calls out.
"Sí," their mamá says, then kisses the top of her head as she stands, and Bruno and her turn to watch her walk away.
Julieta steps next to her on her other side, and bumps their shoulders together, still grinning. "You did it, Pepa."
She grins back, and bumps her shoulder against Bruno's. "Only thanks to Bruno."
"Eh," Bruno says, shrugging, but he smiles bright too, and bumps their shoulders together with just enough strength she bumps her shoulder against Julieta's again.
Pepa's smile falters a bit. "I still have to keep it that way for the whole day."
"No hay problema," Bruno says confidently, crossing his arms on his chest. "I know a lot of other ways to make you happy."
Pepa laughs, wrapping her arm around his shoulders in a side hug, and holds him tight. "Thank you, Bruno." She knows he does.
[White, circular clouds on top of each other's, wider than the one above from top to bottom—gratefulness.]
"...Fin," their mamá says, closing the book, then puts it down on the nightstand.
"Thank you, Mamá," they say at the same time, sitting next to each other on the bed, leaning against the wall, a blanket wrapped around them.
"You're welcome, mis pollos. Come on, time to go to bed."
Bruno and Julieta pull the blanket away from them, and they crawl to the edge of the bed, getting on their feet.
"Mamá, I'm not tired," Pepa says just as Julieta yawns hard.
"You will be once in your bed, mami," her mamá says, standing up from her chair, running her hand through her hair. She walks in front of them, leading them to the door.
A burst of wind makes her stumble, and she leans on Julieta to catch her balance, almost making her fall too. Their mamá turns around, looks at them, then behind them, then back at them again.
She smiles, kneeling in front of them, and pulls them in her arms. "It's just Bruno."
Bruno stands still in the middle of the room, his eyes wide open and glowing green. The wind blows around him but reaches the whole room, the furniture lightly knocking against the walls and against the floor, Casita jolting the desk so nothing fall from it, closing the doors and drawers of the wardrobe whenever they open, and throwing the blanket and pillows back on the bed when they fall from it.
Bruno's vision doesn't last long, but he stays frozen a moment even after his eyes stop glowing and the wind stops blowing. He blinks back to reality then, stumbling back.
"Bruno?" their mamá calls out softly.
"Bruno?" Julieta and her say too, their voices small.
Sometimes some of his visions make him sad, upset, and he doesn't always like telling them what he saw.
Bruno catches her eye, and her mamá's arm around her tightens. Bruno beams.
He runs to her, grabbing her shoulders, almost nose to nose, and shakes her excitedly. "You're going to be happy, Pepa, I saw it, I saw it!"
Pepa blinks. "Me? You saw me?"
"Yeah, and you were really tall and dancing! And your cloud was raining, but you were happy and dancing!"
Pepa frowns. She's never really happy when her cloud rains. "Are you sure?"
"Pepa, I saw it!" He shakes her more pointedly. "Come on, be happy, you're going to be happy!"
Pepa huffs, stomping her foot. "But you said my cloud was raining!"
"Brunito, where was it?" their mamá asks.
"Right here, Mamá. In the casa."
"Really? You saw Casita?"
"Yes, Mamá, I'm sure."
A short laugh escapes their mamá's lips, and she puts her hand over her heart. "Pepa, did you hear your brother?" she asks, cupping her cheeks, a big smile on her lips, but her eyes shine a little. "You're going to grow up and be very happy and dancing." She laughs, something so happy Pepa can't help but smile too, and then her mamá plants a long kiss on the top of her head.
"You really saw Pepa, Bruno?" Julieta asks.
"Yeah, and she was happy!" Bruno says, just as excited as he's been since his vision.
"But you said her cloud was raining."
"You did," Pepa says, turning to him again.
Bruno shrugs. "You were still happy, smiling very, very big. You were even dancing! Come on, Pepa, I know how you look like when you're happy."
"Pepa, that's great!" Julieta says, grinning, grabbing her arm, and she shakes her too. "You're going to be happy even with your cloud! See? We keep telling you that."
Pepa looks at them back and forth, a slow smile pulling at her lips. "I will?"
"You will, I saw it," Bruno says, nodding.
Pepa grins, then jumps on Bruno, bringing Julieta into the hug too. They stumble, almost falling, and laugh as they catch their balance. "Then it means we're all going to be happy!"
"You think?" Julieta asks.
"Of course!" she says, pulling back. She holds onto their hands, jumping up and down, and they move in circle like that, Bruno and Julieta jumping up and down too. "I can't be happy if you're not happy too."
Their mamá laughs. "Your sister's right." She pulls them into her arms, and kisses their heads each in turn. "If Casita was there, it means you're all going to grow up safe and happy. And that's all I've ever wanted for you." She holds them tighter, burying her face in Pepa's hair.
Pepa squeezes her arms between Bruno and Julieta and her mamá so she can hug her back tight too, smiling against her chest.
[A rising sun over a white cloud—hope.]
Pepa sits away from the others, her grey cloud above her head. They're playing marbles, but her wind got too strong, and she agreed to make it stop before keeping playing with them. They can't play marbles with the wind blowing anyway, and they could fly in their eyes or something else like Reyna said, and Pepa doesn't want to hurt anyone or ruin everyone's fun.
But that was minutes ago, and though her wind stopped quickly, now they're worried about her rain as her cloud has turned grey. She's been trying to turn it white again ever since, but it only seems to turn greyer as she watches them play and laugh together, missing parties after parties, a cold fog growing thicker around her. Sometimes she catches them looking at her cloud then back to the game, her cloud clearly still not white and sunny enough, and it growls softly with her lightnings every time.
—A grey cloud turning greyer, with a cold fog growing thicker around her and blocking her sight: loneliness.—
Pepa closes her eyes, pulling her knees up against her chest tighter. "Sunny cloud, sunny cloud. Happy thoughts, Pepa, you're happy now…"
"Pepa, isn't it working yet?"
Pepa squeezes her eyes shut tighter. "Go away, Bruno."
"But it isn't as much fun without you."
"Liar." They've been keeping playing and laughing together just fine without her, she'd know, she was watching them.
"Not at all." He says nothing else, but she doesn't hear him walk away. "Your cloud is really grey. Are you annoyed about something?"
"You're annoying me, Bruno!" she shouts, standing up, and Bruno startles. "I said go away! I'm trying to make it go away, okay?"
—A dark grey cloud lighting up with lightnings: frustration.—
Bruno frowns, blinking, but then laughs. "I know that, Pepa." He looks up at her cloud before looking back at her again. "You've been in a bad mood all day, that's why it doesn't work, right? Didn't you sleep well last night?" She says nothing, but he puts his hands on his hips, puffing his chest out, grinning. "Don't worry, tu hermano favorito, Bruno, will tell you his latest funniest joke."
—Her lightnings strike inside her cloud, her wind picking up around her, and the shadow of her cloud grows wider.— "Just go away, Bruno."
Bruno opens his mouth, looking up at her cloud.
Pepa shoves him hard on the floor.
"Stop it!" she shouts at the top of her voice. "Stop looking at it!"
"Pepa!" Julieta shouts, running to Bruno's side.
"Stop looking at my cloud, just stop it, stop it!" Pepa shouts again and again, doesn't know what else to say, don't want to say anything else but tell them to stop looking at her cloud.
That's the only thing everyone ever does, looking up at her cloud much more than at her even when they aren't even close to each other or talking together, even when her cloud is sunny or does nothing at all, all the time, and she hates it.
Their friends back down, the older villagers hurrying to them, alerted by her screams—no, her cloud. She thinks they say something to her, but she can't hear them because of her wind strongly spinning around her, of her lightnings striking down on the floor around her.
None of them are looking at her, only glancing down at her before looking up again.
—Dark grey clouds rising high together like a tower and thundering, a strong wind spinning around her: anger.—
"I'm sorry it's here, I don't want it to be here either, but I'm trying!" she keeps screaming. "I'm always trying! Just stop looking at it, don't look at my cloud!"
Tears spill out from her eyes, and her clouds surround her in a swirl, dark grey, her wind spinning around her too. The part of the sky above her rains heavily all around her, replacing her lightnings, but she stays dry, no rain falling right above her.
It just isn't fair everyone else can just see her cloud when they don't even like it, when they'd like it better if it wasn't there at all, and she hates that they can, hates the way they look at it, hates how she has to change her cloud because of that when it's not even to help the villagers or their Encanto. They never ask anyone else to do that.
And she's been trying to change it even when Pepa didn't ask for her cloud either, and they don't know how hard she's been trying even if they can see her cloud too, and she's tired of trying.
—Dark grey clouds surround her in a swirl, strong wind spinning around her, rain falling heavy from the sky, but she's kept dry and untouched by all of it in the middle of her cloud: hurt.—
Pepa can't bear their looks a second longer, and she runs away from Bruno and Julieta and their friends, away from the villagers and all the ones she come across as she runs in the streets, would run away from her cloud too if she could.
Her cloud's raining, and she knows it's because she's sad, knows it's sunny when she's happy, windy when she's excited, stormy when she's angry, cold and snowy when she's scared, but so does everyone else too.
Casita barely opens the door in time for her to burst inside, and if her mamá notices her or calls for her, Pepa doesn't hear her. She runs to her room, slamming the door behind her, then runs to her bed.
Her bright green grass, pretty colorful flowers and tall green trees shrivel and rot, the floor shaking and cracking open everywhere. The sunny blue sky turns dark and cloudy like she switched the light off, and the rain falls heavy and loud, her lake overflowing and streaming down the cracks on the floor. The windows of her glass house rattle under the wind, blowing so strong it pushes her back and almost knocks her off her feet.
She slams the door of her glass house behind her too, but it rains and winds inside too because of her cloud.
"Go away!" she screams at it, swinging her arms through it from side to side. "I hate you, I hate you! Go away!" It doesn't, and she curls her hands into fists at her sides, stomping her foot against the floor with all her might. "Go away!" she screams at the top of her voice, closing her eyes.
A lightning bolt strikes down so loud in the sky, lighting up the sky and her room with its white light, the floor rumbling when it hits it like it's about to crumble under her feet. Her wind spins so fast around her, almost making her fly, and so strong it crushes the floor around her.
—A thick, big cloud rising high above her, dark grey but flashing white because of the strong lightning bolts inside, a tornado spinning around her: hate, hate, hate.—
Pepa falls on her knees, feeling the hard floor on her landing now her bright green grass and pretty colorful flowers are gone. She curls up on herself right on the floor, the muddy dirt dirtying her clothes and hair and face. She sobs particularly hard, and it's like something inside her breaks, her wind and lightnings gone from inside her room at least, and she's left only with her rain and tears.
Heavy rain pouring, pouring, pouring down from thick, cracked, dark grey clouds—heartache.
Pepa thinks she might have fallen asleep, but she isn't sure. She's cold, but doesn't really feel it at the same time, a headache pulsing at her temples, her eyes heavy and stinging and swollen. Her room is still dark, and she can still hear a soft rain, and her lake spilling over to her room, but no wind or lightnings. It doesn't rain inside her glass house, her cloud not raining on her anymore, but it still shadows her, and it's dark underneath it in a way that tells her her cloud is still dark grey.
She sniffles, but doesn't think she can cry again even if she wanted to, and it would probably hurt anyway with her eyes the way they are. She's still curled up on herself, doesn't think she's moved at all since she curled up on the floor, and she feels stiff, but doesn't really feel it either at the same time.
She doesn't know how long it's been since she ran inside her room.
She hopes she didn't hurt Bruno when she pushed him on the floor, hopes she didn't hurt anyone or the village with her cloud.
"Pepa?"
Pepa shots upwards, banging her head against something above her. She blinks up at the umbrella, cradling her head, then at Bruno and Julieta. They sit next to each other, wrapped in their cloaks, Bruno holding onto the open, disregarded umbrella.
"Bruno, Julieta," she says, utterly dumbfounded.
"Hey, Pepa," Julieta says, smiling.
Bruno smiles too, but smaller, shyer.
Pepa glances to the door then back at them. "When did you…?"
"Just a bit after you," Julieta says. "We ran after you."
Pepa opens and closes her mouth, not knowing what to say, but then the umbrella catches her attention again. She snaps her eyes back to them. "Why did you only bring one umbrella? You're gonna fall sick!"
Julieta and Bruno exchange a glance.
Bruno shrugs. "We have our cloaks."
"Yeah, Pepa," Julieta says, smiling, then shrugs too. "We just didn't want you to get too wet."
Pepa's lips wobble, tearing up again even if she was sure she wouldn't be able to cry again. "Juliiiii…" she drawls out tearfully. She hugs her around her waist, settling against her, still half lying on the floor.
Julieta hugs her back silently, and gently strokes her hair. Pepa reaches for Bruno, and quickly grabs on his cloak when he backs away, then pulls him against Julieta so she can wrap an arm around his waist too.
"Where are you going?" she mumbles against Julieta, holding tight onto him.
"Oh, no—I just—I thought—" He laughs, a happy sound to it, then adjusts himself more comfortably against Julieta. He rests his hands on her arm, squeezing. "I'm going right here."
Pepa cries again a little, and she's not very comfortable in her position, but she doesn't care. She doesn't move even after her tears dry out, and neither Bruno nor Julieta make her.
"Do you feel better?" Julieta asks, still stroking her hair.
She sniffles. "Why?"
"Mamá said we have to make sure you change clothes as soon as you can, or you'll fall sick."
Pepa's stomach twists."Is she mad?"
"Not at all, just very worried. Casita wouldn't open the door for her."
Pepa frowns, but brushes the words away. "I don't want to see her yet," she admits, her voice small.
"I'll tell her," Bruno says.
Pepa quickly lets go of them, sitting up. "No, Bruno—"
"Oh, no, I meant—" he says, quickly waving his hands in front of him. "I'll just tell her you don't feel ready to talk yet. But I'll tell her you've stopped crying, and I'm sure she won't mind waiting a little more, so don't worry, okay? Just wait for me near the door!"
He stands before she can say anything else, and she watches him leave her room without finding anything to say.
Julieta stands, picks up the umbrella, and helps her stand up too. "Come on, I'll lend you some of my clothes."
Bruno comes back quickly, and they stop by Julieta's room for her to pick up clean clothes. They wait for her outside the bathroom, and she takes her time just a little, only realizing how cold she feels once the hot water hits her skin, and how much dirt there is in her hair once she tries to clean them up.
She steps outside the bathroom wearing a coat too, all three of them wearing pants, and they nudge each other in the side as they've taken the habit to do when they're matching clothes, smiling at each other.
"Here," Bruno says, holding out a bottle of water for her. "Mamá said you have to drink all of it, and that it'll make you feel better."
Pepa doesn't feel thirsty, but then takes a very long sip.
"And here," Julieta says, opening the tied up tissue she's holding, then gives her an arepa. "Mamá did them just for you."
Pepa takes a bite, and Julieta isn't the one who made them, but it still makes her feel better.
They walk back to her room, Bruno opening up the umbrella again as she opens the door, but all three of them freeze in the doorway. It doesn't rain anymore, but it's the least of the problems of her room.
Her room looks about to fall apart any second now, deep, long cracks on the floor. The floor's much more visible now that the grass and flowers rotted and died, the bare, broken branches from the trees replacing them. Some of the three burnt and cracked too, and most of the water of her lake is on the floor more than in the lake itself.
"We—" Julieta starts, then has to start again. "We can go to my room instead if you want."
"Or mine," Bruno says.
Pepa shakes her head. "It's fine."
She steps inside, both of them following after her, Bruno closing the umbrella as he does. They stop again in the doorway of her glass house, her bedroom looking as bad as her room.
Somehow her bed still stands, though soaking wet, but everything else is broken, her desk and wardrobe, some of her clothes on the floor, her carpet burnt and overturned and torn apart.
"That's weird," Bruno says. "Why doesn't Casita—"
"I'm sure Casita will get it back to normal soon," Julieta cuts him off, then runs her hand up and down her back comfortingly. "So don't worry, Pepa, okay?"
"Yeah, thank you. It's fine," she says again.
They climb up her bed, wincing and laughing at each other as it squeaks and spills water under their weights, then sit next to each other, leaning against the wall. Pepa opens the tissue with the arepas again, putting it on her lap. She gives one to Bruno and Julieta at either side of her, then takes one for herself.
They silently munch on their arepas, sharing the bottle of water between them, Pepa letting her eyes wander on her destroyed bedroom and room, and it really is fine, it is. She even likes the sight of it in a way.
She thinks she'd actually feel upset if they still looked like her beautiful, green, colorful room. She doesn't want green and colorful right now, doesn't feel green and colorful. Her room is broken and sad looking and abandoned, but it looks… right. And feels right.
And even if her room looks like that, she feels better inside now.
"Hey, Pepa?" Julieta asks eventually, once they put the arepas aside.
"Yeah?"
"I like your cloud."
"Liar."
Julieta gently bumps their shoulders together. "I like your cloud. Even when it rains, even with its wind or lightnings."
"Why would you?"
Julieta shrugs. "It's your cloud. And your rain or wind or lightnings don't bother me. And I don't like when you're alone with your cloud when it doesn't make you happy. I don't want you to be alone with it when it doesn't make you happy, okay?"
Pepa smiles a little, bumping their shoulders together again, but it's the most she can give her. She pulls her knees up against her chest, and wraps her arms around them. "I just don't like it when it bothers Mamá and the others. When it bothers everyone."
"Not true," Bruno says. "And look." He jumps from the bed, picks up the umbrella, then twirls around to face them. He points the umbrella in front of him. "Umbrella!"
The corners of Pepa's lips twitch. "What about it?"
"Because you don't like it when it rains or snows or anything else on other people, right?" He opens the umbrella, holding it above his head, then jumps up and down. He points to the umbrella with his free hand, grinning. "Ta-dah, umbrella! We just have to make our Encanto an umbrella village, to give everyone an umbrella! And then…" He closes the umbrella again, then pretends to walk casually from side to side, whistling. He gasps, looking up, then whips his head to her. "Pepa's cloud needs to cry, quick!" He opens the umbrella, holding it above his head, then swipes his forehead with the back of his hand, sighing. "Or!" he says, breaking character. He only lowers the umbrella again this time, gasps again, looking up, then whips his head to her. "Pepa's cloud needs to cry, quick!" He leans on the bed, holding the umbrella above her head as best he can despite the wall behind her.
Julieta cheers, clapping, and a grin pulls at Pepa's lips. She laughs, straightening against the wall so she can clap too, stretching her legs in front of her.
Bruno bows, holding the umbrella open above himself, but then puts it aside again. "Hey, Pepa?"
"Yeah?"
"I like your cloud too." He stands awkwardly, not quite meeting her eyes. "I like it when it's all white and sunny, because then I can be happy with you. And I like it even when it rains, and even with its wind or lightnings, because sometimes you don't want to tell us when you're upset or you hide it, but then I can still be sad with you or try to cheer you up. And I like when it's all grey, because then I know you're annoyed, and I can annoy you even more," he jokes, grinning a little at the corner of his lips, and Julieta and her laugh. He stands more comfortably after that, speaks more lightheartedly. "And I like it when it's all grey, because then I know you're really annoyed, and… I can stop and apologize." Pepa's eyes widen, and Bruno shrugs a little. "I'm sorry, Pepa, I wasn't trying to make you mad. And if you don't like people looking at your cloud, then I swear I'll never look at it again!" He looks up at her cloud just as he says that, and quickly looks back down at her. "Starting right now, I swear."
Julieta giggles while she laughs, though a bit strangled, and she hurries off her bed to pull Bruno into a hug. "I'm really sorry too, Bruno. I didn't mean to push you."
"Eh," Bruno just says, hugging her back. "I'm fine."
"Did it hurt you?"
Bruno suddenly lifts her off her feet, Pepa squealing, then spins her around. "I already said I'm fine!"
Pepa laughs, and lifts him off his feet right back when he puts her down, spinning him around too. They pull away from each other, Bruno spluttering things she doesn't understand, and she laughs harder.
She sits at the edge of her bed, but then quickly stands up again to grab the umbrella. She twirls it in her hand. "An umbrella village?"
"Wouldn't that be cool?" Bruno says, grinning.
"What about my wind then?"
Bruno blinks, opens his mouth, closes it, looks at the umbrella, then back at her. "Umbrella?"
"No way," she says, playfully stern. "The umbrella will fly away."
"Oh, I know, I know!" Julieta says, hurrying off her bed. She twirls in front of her too, then spreads her arms wide in a grand manner. She jumps up and down. "Coats!" she says proudly, then turns on her sides back and forth to show off her coat to her.
"Okay," Pepa says. Then she grins challengingly. "What about my lightnings?"
They both blink, then look at each other.
"Ummmm…" Julieta hums, clearly not knowing what to say, both her and Bruno looking around her room for an answer. Julieta suddenly holds her hands above her head like she's holding something between them. "Thunder shield!"
"Thunder shield!" Bruno repeats, showing her with his arms, grinning at her.
Pepa wants to grin wide too, but she holds herself back, instead crossing her arms on her chest. "Thunder shield? What even is that?"
Bruno and Julieta look at each other again.
"What is that, Bruno? You tell her."
"Me? It's your thunder shield, you tell her."
"Your turn."
Pepa bursts out laughing, and her room is still broken and sad looking, but doesn't look so abandoned anymore, sunlight shining behind the dark sky, patches of grass and flowers growing along the cracks on the floor and from within them, Bruno and Julieta smiling bright at her.
A/N: I'm obsessed with Pepa's gift, so I just had to explore it a little. And thankfully making her cloud different for each stated feeling wasn't as much a struggle as I was fearing, but I still allowed myself a bit of unrealistic-ness here haha. Also if you're wondering about a timeline, I'd say across a year, give or take? Yeah, a year feels right.
About that scene where Pepa says she'll never be able to lie to anyone ever again, obviously (or at least I hope it is lol) it wasn't her saying she wanted to be able to become a lying liar if she wanted to lol. It was "lie" as in "keeping things for herself and herself only" (which doesn't necessarily involve lying), especially in a situation like the one in the story where she just wanted to help/protect Julieta. And, you know, I figured realizing you don't have the luxury of processing your feelings before doing anything with them, if anything at all (and seemingly will never have it), would be pretty distressing. (Also when I wrote she felt fear and guilt and shame, it wasn't because of Alma, but lying isn't exactly a feeling lol, so I figured that's what lying in that situation made her feel.)
About Alma, hopefully I found the right balance with her? If you think I didn't, know that I tried, and that I certainly wasn't trying to villainize or demonize her, so I hope it doesn't come across that way at the very least.
Also I kinda peppered Spanish here and there where it felt right, but I'm sorry if it was off. Also sorry if I'm totally off the mark here with my child speech/tone so to speak, writing children is really one of my weaknesses haha.
I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Any and all review are accepted.
Thank you for reading!
- Hope