Encantober 2024 Bingo Prompt: Relaxation
The celebrations had been going on for so long Bruno had lost track of them. At some point he'd fallen asleep, been woken up, had a chance to change, and had gotten so turned around he couldn't even remember what meal it was he'd eaten last. If one thing could be said about the citizens of the Encanto, it was that they knew how to party.
Mirabel was dancing with her sisters in the courtyard, all three of them covered in pollen and laughing. He'd lost track of Antonio, but with a jaguar as a bodyguard, Bruno saw no reason to worry. Camilo was sneaking around the corridor, and Bruno couldn't tell if it was to set off a prank or to avoid his mother to hide the bottle of aguardiente hiding in his pocket. Dolores had passed out, her head in Mariano Guzman's lap as he held the pair of earmuffs Mirabel had made her for her birthday to her ears, his foot tapping softly to the music.
His mother was still making the rounds with the other townspeople, and Bruno ducked away, not wanting to get roped into any more reintroductions. He'd been back for months now, but his mother insisted, making up for lost time. Casita's tiles seemed to sense that he'd hit a limit, and he found himself zipping away toward the cocina, rescuing a tumbler of whisky that threatened to fall from a dresser as he went.
There was a shout and a chuckle to either side of him, and he found himself sandwiched between his cuñados, Agustín in shirtsleeves and trying not to spill his bottle of costaño, Félix chuckling as he held some ridiculous iced cocktail aloft.
"I think even the house is winding down," he laughed. "The kids are still up but Pepi ran off an hour ago, all weathered out."
"Juli too. I haven't danced this much in years." Agustín laughed, slipping as the tiles clattered and grabbing hold of Bruno's shoulders for balance.
"Casita keeps pulling me places," Bruno grinned bashfully. "Guess she doesn't want to lose sight of me again."
Félix slapped his chest, laughing before resting his chin on Bruno's shoulder tiredly, "'Ahh, we don't either. Come on, there's a patio with the Madrigal boys' names on it, and even I'm dead on my feet. Let's go take a load off."
"I'll drink to that," Agustín smirked, raising his bottle. Bruno couldn't help but grin. Raising his own glass to clink against his cuñados, some of his oldest friends, was another in a long line of silent welcomes home that he didn't know he'd needed.