you infuriate me - camilo madrigal x fem!oc

chapter 3

a/n: I'M SO SORRY I'VE JUST BEEN SO BUSY WITH EXAMS AND I JUST HAVEN'T BEEN ABLE TO FIND THE TIME TO KEEP WRITING BUT IT'S HERE GUYS! I HOPE YOU ENJOY AND I'M SO SORRY AGAIN

natalia's pov

the next morning, i am incredibly grumpy. this is because i got exactly 23 minutes of peaceful, uninterrupted sleep last night before mamá burst into my room at 06:58 and cheerfully yelled, "¡buenos días mi amor! estamos desayunando huevos y tocino, ¡tu favorito!" (translation: "good morning my love! we're having eggs and bacon for breakfast, your favourite!") before exiting promptly, leaving me attempting - whilst half asleep - to untangle myself from the sheets. it's currently 08:13 and i'm already on my fifth coffee. my brain feels like it's slowly unravelling. 

the reason for my aforementioned 23 minutes of asleep is that all night (and early morning) i was preoccupied with staring up at my ceiling, attempting unsuccessfully to rid from my mind the image of camilo's face when i reminded him of what he did when we were five. it was like that mischievous spark in his eyes faded, and he seemed to physically droop. i may not be conjuring the most flattering image here but i swear it was sadder in person. somehow it actually made me feel ... bad. which is stupid, because the whole thing was his fault in the first place. but still. i couldn't help it. he looks really cute when he's sad.

i'm gonna be totally honest here. it's not that i'm, like, incredibly traumatised by it or anything, but more just that it's an incredibly embarrassing memory for me (in all seriousness, who the actual fuck almost drowns in water less than a metre deep. it literally makes me cringe every time i think about it - if i could have just put my fucking feet down it all would have been avoided) and i and i would rather he feel bad about it than use it as a way to tease me. so, to summarise, i ended my friendship with milo due to me almost drowning in water almost as shallow as my bathtub. but saying i can't forgive him because he almost killed me sounds better. i'm not exactly proud of it, but there are bigger problems in the world. 

as i gulp down my coffee, i remember with a start that mira told me (through antonio, who told it to ale, who told it to me) to come to her house at 08:30 today because she has to tell me something "super super important" (ale's words). it is now 08:19 and casita is a good 20 minute walk away. perfect. absolutely fucking perfect. i'm gonna have to run. through crowded streets. in 37°c heat. accepting my fate, i throw open the door and begin the exceptionally reluctant jog up towards casita. 

i get there 16 incredibly painful minutes later, feeling like my lungs will collapse at any moment and sporting a bloody knee (there was an unfortunate incident with a loose cobblestone - honestly, i'm just glad i got away without a broken ankle). mirabel is standing outside anxiously and greets me in an excited tone. "come on! i have to talk to you about something! it's like, super super super important!" (maybe not just ale's words, after all). she grabs my hand and drags me inside. i'm greeted by julieta, who gives a small gasp when she sees my knee, sends a disapproving tut mira's way, and drags me into the kitchen (jesus, i'm getting dragged by the madrigal women everywhere). 

i stand rather awkwardly while she runs around trying to find "las magdalenas, necesito las magdalenas" (translation: "the muffins, i need the muffins"). mira stands impatiently in the doorway, tapping her foot. after a particularly loud clatter from julieta, camilo (not milo) appears next to her, his eyes widening slightly when he sees me, before drifting down to my knee. "your knee is bleeding," he says, as if we're not all very obviously aware of that. i stare at him disbelievingly. "no fucking shit," i deadpan. he opens his mouth to retort but at that moment julieta manages to procure the aforementioned box of muffins with a cry of "aha!". he is, of course, immediately distracted and has already inhaled two of them by the time i get there. 

as i'm chewing and washing it down with a glass of water, antonio skips in holding a distinctly mangy-looking cat that he's clearly just found outside. "look! i just found this cat outside! isn't she adorable?" he beams. i take a closer look, and after careful examination i conclude that a) it probably has fleas, and b) it looks as though it has charged face-first into a brick wall. "looks a bit like talia," camilo says through a mouthful of muffin. i choke on my water and mira has the nerve to laugh. traitor. 

by the time mira and i are finally sat down in the nursery, i'm feeling slightly exhausted, but she's too wounded to notice. "okay, so you know how at toñito's gift ceremony casita started cracking and stuff and it was like this huge disaster but i was the only one who saw it and abuela didn't believe me so now i've got to figure out how to fix it without my family's help?" she says in one breath. i'm fairly sure my dumbfounded silence speaks volumes. "okay, well, that happened, and now i need your help, because i can't fucking do this on my own." i am incredibly unconvinced. "please? it'll be so fun! we'll be solving a mystery together, just the two of us. mira and talia!"

i'm not entirely sure what witchcraft pushes me to say yes, but i do, and then mirabel is jumping up and down and squealing, and i share her excitement until i remember that abuelita will whoop. my. ass. 

i'm contemplating this when camilo walks in, still looking smug about his cat insult. when mira doesn't tell him to leave, i look at her questioningly. "the fuck is he doing here?" she looks back sheepishly. "so you know how i said we'd be doing this on our own and that none of my family wanted to help?" oh, fuck no. "well, turns out milo was actually quite happy to help us as long as "us" included you, and i maybe kind of said he could." he grins at me. "you'll be seeing a lot of this gorgeous face from now on." i flip him off. "you infuriate me, you know that?" i say. he grins again. "i consider it my job at this point." he ruffles my hair, and that's when i know that this really isn't a good idea, because for some insane reason my heart is racing like i just ran a fucking marathon and my stomach is performing a series of complex back flips.

fuck, i'm in trouble.