we don't talk about us// Camilo Madrigal x oc

I33I

Alma sighed loudly, placing her head in her hands. "Brunito. Can't this wait until after the dinner?" 

Mrs. Guzman was looking extremely frazzled, anxiously spooning potatoes into her mouth. Mariano chewed slowly. 

"This is normal," Camilo leaned over, whispering to Mariano past Dolores. "Welcome to the family, bro." He smacked Mariano on the back. 

"Shut it, Camilo," Dolores hissed. "Ignore him." She said quietly to Mariano. 

"The prophecy, Mama," Bruno said urgently, holding it up higher. 

"Yes, we all see it," Pepa said, breathing heavily. "Clear skies, clear skies, clear skies..." 

Alma placed her head down on the table. .

_ 

"That was certainly interesting," Camilo said, propping himself up on his elbows. He leaned backwards off his bed, looking at Avon from upside down. His hair fell in his face, obstructing his vision. Ungracefully, he slid off the bed, nearly landing on top of her tiny mattress. 

"I bet Mrs. Guzman's really pleased that the crazy in this house has wrecked a second proposal dinner," Avon said, smirking. Her smile faded when she thought about Dolores. "I wonder how your sister's holding up." 

"To be honest, I don't think she really wanted to get married in the first place," Camilo said thoughtfully, crossing his legs. He tilted his head to the side. "And what about you?" 

"What about me?" 

"Do you ever think about marriage?" Camilo tried to play the question off as a joke, but Avon could tell there was meaning behind it. 

"Oh," She raised her eyebrows, frowning slightly. "Yeah, I guess so...not much though." Avon grinned. "I promise, if I ever do think about it, you'll be the first to know." 

Camilo narrowed his eyes mockingly. "I would hope so." 

"STOP FLIRTING AND GO TO SLEEP!" Dolores hollered from outside. 

Seconds later, Mirabel barged in, tripping on Camilo's ruana, which was strewn half-hazardly on the ground; she went tumbling onto the ground, landing on her back. 

"Ouch," Camilo said, leaning against his bed. "How's it going, Mira?" 

Mirabel looked up at him, glaring. "Who put that there?" 

"I did," The curly haired boy said cheerfully. "Specifically so that you would trip on it." He smiled playfully, tipping his head to the side. "Or maybe it was Hernando." 

Avon coughed, lowering her voice. "I am Hernando and I'm scared of nothing." 

"The rats are going to tell Tio Bruno you said that," Camilo looked at her. 

She shrugged. "I hope they do." Avon flipped her hair, which was loose for once. "My acting talents need to be appreciated." 

"Clearly," Mirabel said dryly. "I'm here because of the prophecy." 

Camilo paid no attention to this. "Ave, can I braid you hair?" 

"Sure. Don't fuck it up." 

Mirabel cleared her throat. "Don't either of you care about the fact that the mountains around Encanto—the only thing protecting us from a potential battle—might be coming down?" 

"Hah, coming." 

Mirabel rolled her eyes at her cousin. "You—are the most immature Chameleon I've ever met." She rolled her eyes again. "You have the humor and brain capacity of a 12 year old boy." 

"He is a twelve-year old boy," Avon said, completely serious as Camilo split her hair into three sections. 

"In all seriousness, the prophecy could be wrong," Camilo said. 

"Like the last one was?" Mirabel said grimly. 

"Oh." 

"Yeah, oh," She continued. "I for one think we should do something." 

"You for one are alone in thinking that," Camilo said. "Everyone's going to be really focused on Dolores and Mariano right nows." He nodded, as if agreeing with himself. "Maybe you should wait until after the wedding." 

"There isn't a wedding," Avon pointed out. "So that kinda extends the waiting period a lot longer." 

Mirabel sighed to herself. "Pointless. Completely pointless." She pursed her lips. "Oh, dios mio, are you two going to help me or not?" 

Camilo and Avon looked at each other. 

"Sure."