// You are Camila's sister in this imagine and Lauren is her best friend. You and Lauren decide to pursue a relationship behind her back because of the fear of bad judgement. //
• • •
"Y/N," Camila yells from the foot of the stairs, hoping to wake you up from your slumber without actually having to climb the stairs, "get your ass down here. Breakfast is ready."
"Karla," your mother yells from the kitchen as she scolds your sister for her unnecessary addition to the sentence, "language please!"
You stir from your sleep as the loud, thunderous steps of Camila making her way up the stairs echo through your room. You groan audibly as you dig your face deeper down into the pillow, pulling the leftover sides up to cover your ears.
The door to your bedroom swings open quickly and hard enough to knock a hole in the wall on impact as your sister comes striding through the door. You nearly fall off the bed from the initial shock of her scaring you half to death and you rip yourself away from the pillow. Now you sit in the middle of the bed, staring back at your sister with wild eyes.
"Jesus Christ Camila," you groan, running a shaky hand through your hair. You turn to go back to the pillow that you were sleeping on, but as soon as your face hits the soft cushion, your sister rips it from underneath your head. It causes you to hit your head on the wooden head board rather violently. "Fuck!"
"Please get your ass up and out of bed so I can finally get some food," Camila chants, throwing the pillow at your backside, you assume, playfully. Instead of obeying, you pull the covers over yourself and bury down into them comfortably.
"Mila," you whine, but it comes out muffled from you being under the blankets. Digging yourself even deeper into the bed, you take repeated hits from the pillow Camila is now using as a weapon, "can you please get out?"
"No," she rebuttals, still attacking you with that damn pillow. "I'm hungry and mom won't let me eat until you're at the table too."
You groan loudly, throwing the covers off of yourself rather hatefully and push up off the bed with your forearms. You make sure to snap your head back in her direction disgustedly as you do so. She smirks, holding the pillow high over her head tauntingly and you raise your eyebrow in challenge. Eyeing the pillow cautiously, your eyes switch to the door as you prepare to make a mad dash to the kitchen.
Camila notices this sudden notion and begins to fling the pillow in your direction, but it is no use. You are too quick and already halfway to the door when the pillow makes contact with the now empty mattress.
"Fucker," you hear Camila curse as she makes a quick decision to trek behind you in an effort to, possibly, push you down the stairs.
You run as if your life depends on it and you cannot help but laugh as you do so. Your sister, however, does not find it the least bit funny.
In one piece, you manage to make it downstairs and into the kitchen with Camila close behind. She is still fuming with anger, but you know well enough that she will get over it. She always does.
Moments later, yourself and your family are seated around the dining room table with plates loaded up with bacon, eggs and pancakes, in front of you. Camila wastes no time in digging into her food, which you expect, but you being a not-so-morning person, you are not too hungry at the moment.
