#Carmen took that shit personally | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wtfsteveharrington · 1 month

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after midnight | carmen berzatto x reader

summary: chicago is expensive, okay? so you pick up a job outside of the restaurant which just so happens to involve your camera. everything's fine until richie stumbles upon the website and shares it with camry.

contents: perv!carmy, male & female masturbation, sex toys, dirty talk, cam sex, slight dub-con kinda if you look for it. carmy’s honestly a wreck. mentions of unprotected sex, choking, oral sex, overstimulation. please note!! no formal intercourse takes place yet but it's cuming coming but ya girl wants a slow burn

reader description: she/her pronouns, there is semi a hair scene but i use no real descriptors so still vague!

word count: basically 3.9k

author notes: first fic in a year baby and boy did i lose the plot!! filth!! also i sure love saying fuck in this so enjoy that

part two

★–————————–

Richie’s voice is annoying. It echos, ricochets off the walls, and can’t be contained by even the highest quality of sound proofing. Which is why, at 8 in the morning, Carmen’s already considering having to take Excedrin as Richie bursts through the doors.

“Carmy, Cousin, you’re never gonna fuckin’ believe what I found last night.” He’s out of breath after running in, fumbling around with his phone in a rush to pull something up. He’d spent all night contemplating if he texted Carmen or waited to show him in person. Ultimately the urge to see his reaction won but that didn’t stop Richie from waking up before his alarm out of excitement. “Listen, we’re both grown ass men so I’m gonna say it -“ he’s glancing around to make sure they’re alone, “- So I’m laying there and jerkin’ my shit, right?”

Carmen’s wincing, pinching the bridge of his nose and contemplating every decision that brought him back to Chicago.

“Dude, fuck off. I don’t wanna hear -“ Richie tsks, cutting him off.

“Nah, shut the fuck up because you wanna hear this. In fact, you’re gonna wanna fall to your knees and kiss my shoes and praise my ass as a thank you for finding this.”

He’s holding up his phone, an iPhone 8 he refuses to upgrade, and illuminated on the screen is a video of you. You, on your knees, in lingerie. You, with your fingers dragging down your chest, across the lace that covers your breasts. Your head falls back as you run your thumbs across your nipples. A sound so angelic coming from your lips that Carmen starts to understand why people spend so much time at Church. He’s convinced you’re hand carved by God, or Buddha, or whatever might be up there.

Carmy’s instantly feeling a rush of heat across his chest and his cheeks as he takes the sight of you in. It feels wrong but at the same time the coiling in his stomach feels so good he can’t look away quite yet. “Why the…” He’s cut off by a whine coming from Richie’s speaker as you keep teasing yourself. His brain is frying for a second as he tries to focus on finishing his sentence. “How the hell did you find this?”

“Listen, sometimes I get bored on the same ole sites, okay? Clicked an ad to see who was live and ended up here. Now I stopped watching, obviously, out of respect but this? I’ve known you long enough to know when you gotta thing for someone and you’re not gonna act on it. Also, I caught you staring at her ass as she filled the deep freeze the other night. Kinda gave it away. So this is the way you can still get some pussy while being a fuckin’ pussy.” Richie’s punching the air, clearly proud of himself.

Carmy’s smacking him upside the head, his body now torn between lust and annoyance. “Watch your mouth, alright? That is so fucked, Richie. Put that shit anyway and I better not see you tell a single other person this exists.”

And yeah, he took note of your screen name before he walked away. Don’t judge him.

———★–————————–

Look - There have been a lot of times in his life where Carmen hasn’t been proud of himself. But settling back into bed, hooking his thumbs on the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down to rest under his balls? Yeah, he’s not proud to say the least. After seeing even just the glimpse of you this morning though it’s been all he could think about. The. Whole. Fucking. Day. He watched out of the corner of his eye while you bent over the line to scrub down the wall behind your station tonight. Burning to memory the way your ass just slightly jiggled from the aggressive motion of wiping down the surface. A soft grunt coming from you as you reach for something just a little too high. He finally snapped out of it when the smell of the chemicals he sprayed down on his own surface got a little too strong and refocused.

He wasn’t proud when he ran to the restroom and contemplated just jacking off over the toilet to get some relief. You were clouding his brain, only the rush of the evening giving him some small relief.

You seemed vocal in the small clip he saw. He’s wondering if you would have asked him to cum for you. Would you think it’s a waste that he’s cumming down the drain instead of covering your ass with it? Filling your mouth and making you swallow every drop around him? Or, Jesus Christ, would you wrap your legs around his waist and beg him not to pull out?

So yeah. Carmy’s had quite the fucking day to say the least.

He’s finally home and running straight to bed. His stuff dropped in a heap by the front door and was easily forgotten. Throwing himself back onto the mattress after ripping off his shirt and his pants. Left just groaning into the empty room, his cock twitching at the thought of you. Your page has been sitting on an Incognito tab all day and it’s finally, finally being loaded up. This feels like an invasion of privacy in a way but Carmen can’t quite think logically with how heavy his balls feel and how painfully hard he is. There’s not much time to spare so he clicks the first video you’ve uploaded that he can.

And there you are.

Sitting in the middle of a big bed and rubbing your hands along your thighs, smiling at the camera. His heart is twitching, cock is twitching, everything is fucking twitching. And you’re just sitting there, licking your lips and sliding your hands under the thin material of some weird lace one piece he wants to rip off.

“Hi there, Pretty Boy.” Your voice is music to his ears and Carmy can’t take it any longer. His fist is wrapping around his cock, a broken moan filling the room as he finally gets some relief. “I’ve been waiting for you to come home all day.”

Sue him, but he’s skipping ahead a little. There’s not much time until he cums and he needs to see you. All of you. He’s gripping his phone with one hand, bringing the other that’s around his cock up to his mouth to spit in. His thumb is haphazardly trying to keep the phone balanced while scrubbing through the video until he thinks he’s at a good spot. You’re laid back now, thighs spread for the camera and pussy on display. Carmen’s muttering to himself about how gorgeous you are, longing to tell you in person. You’re holding this royal blue dildo in your hands that’s suddenly his biggest enemy. He deserves to be there, not this stupid, useless chuck of silicone. There’s a whimper from the speaker as you take the toy and slide it along yourself, tapping it twice against your clit. “Fuck, I need you.”

Fuckin’ hell does he needs you too.

His fist is clamped around his dick once again, fucking his hips up into the the slick, tight grip. You’re still teasing yourself by sticking just the head of the dildo in before gasping and pulling it back out. “Please, Baby. I need you so bad, need to come for you.” His brain is breaking. An animalistic urge taking over to fuck you until you can’t move, can’t think, just a blubbering mess begging him for more. Without warning you push the dildo all the way in, throwing your head back with a pleasured scream.

Carmy gasps, hips sputtering and losing their rhythm as he watches you fuck yourself. He’s stroking himself at the same pace you’re moving the dildo, imaging it’s you he’s fucking into. Picturing you laid under him, your breasts covered in hickies because he hates the idea of these… Perverts watching you get off. He wants to mark you, claim you as his. His balls are tightening and he can’t think of the last time he came this quick. It’s almost embarrassing - What are you doing to him?

Your free hand comes up to shove two fingers in your mouth, lewdly sucking them for the camera. The sucking noise now accompanying the wet, addictive sounds of your pussy being fucked. Carmen whimpers, actually fucking whimpers, and twists his wrist over his cock to get a little more friction. Your voice hits him once again as you slide your wet fingers out of your mouth and down your throat. “Oh fuck I’m so close. So, so close. Are you close, Baby? Want you to come with me.” You’re lightly choking yourself, a whining mess.

Carmy’s aware he’s talking to an empty room but he can’t stop himself. “Fuck, oh fuck. Gonna come for you.” And his stomach coils, hips sputter, the phone falling to the bed as he has to let go of it as his orgasm washes over him. He’s slack jaw, warm cum landing on his chest and the sounds of you finishing at the same time ringing out from his phone.

Oh he’s so fucked.

————–——★–————

Carmy slept well for once in his life. His orgasm lulling his body to sleep, dreams filled of you. How beautiful you look sucking his cock. The way you must sound while he eats you out. And he takes his time in his dream. Tongue dragging between your folds as his rough hands hold your hips in place. You’re powerless, made to lay back and let him eat you out for his own pleasure. Tongue circling around your clit but he waits until you’re close to tears to stop teasing. He’d praise you. “Look how fucking wet you are, Princess. You’re already getting the bed wet, aren’t you? Gonna have to lick you for hours to get you all cleaned up. Can you say please, huh? Ask me to suck on your clit, Baby. You know you need it.”

He woke up hard and overstimulated, rolling over onto his stomach and pathetically dragging his hips against the warm bed to get some much needed friction along his cock. Carmy’s telling himself how pathetic this is and forcing himself to push off the bed and get into the shower before he’s late.

Yes, he jacked off in the shower before work.

He had to.

Carmy can’t decide if it’s heaven or hell when he walks in to see you standing in the kitchen.

You’re on your tiptoes, balancing haphazardly as you’re reaching up to change the light. There’s a wobbly step stool under you. Everyone keeps saying it needs to be replaced but it continues to live on. Your face is scrunching up in concentration. Carmy’s chuckling at the sight and ignoring the way he feels his balls tug at the sight of you. “What’re you doing there, Chef?”

You huff in annoyance, finally untwisting the light cover from the ceiling. “Damn light went out right as I started veggie prep. Hate to be a bother but will you come spot me while I’m up on this thing? I’ve seen Fak bust his ass one too many times to trust it.”

Carmy can’t verbally respond at first, instead stalking over to stand next to you. His hand comes up to cup the back of your knee and he’s lying to himself saying it’s for your own safety. To keep you balanced. “Yea well something tells me you’re less clumsy than Fak. I’ve seen that guy fall over while just standing still.”

And you laugh.

You laugh. At him. At his joke. He, Carmen Berzatto, made you laugh. The sound filling his ears and now his damn heart and balls are both reacting to you and what the hell is he supposed to do with all these emotions.

“Don’t distract me up here, Chef.” He doesn’t mind taking commands from you. Silently reaching up to hold the light fixture you’re passing him as you change gears to switch out the lightbulbs now.

And maybe his eyes are wandering around the kitchen to see who else might catch a glimpse of you two together. Everyone who’s in so far is honed in on their prep task and Carmy thanks God that Richie hasn’t shown up yet today.

He’s become quite faithful since he started falling for you it seems.

It happens, by chance, that you feel a little unsteady and Carmen tightens his grip on the back of your leg. Fingers digging into your soft skin. He’s looking down at the stool to make sure it’s level before looking up to take in the sight that is his hand around your leg.

And he stops looking there.

Okay fine that’s a fucking lie - he’s looking up. Eyes trailing up your thighs, following along the curve of your ass. When you have to lean forward just slightly to twist in the light cover he’s convinced he can see the outline of your pussy through the thin material of your leggings. He’s contemplating his options - If he could, would he lean in and lick over the outline? His warm mouth teasing you through your leggings. Through your underwear. Are you wearing underwear? He’s torn between picturing you with or without them.

Or would he slide his hand up your leg, palming your thigh as he goes. Cupping over you and dragging his middle finger across the shape of you. Memorizing the feeling. Would you whine? Grind down against his hand? He doesn’t think you’d shoo his touch away.

God he just knows you’re a needy little thing.

He wonders what it would feel like for you to lick your own wetness from his jaw after he’s decided he’s done savoring you. To taste you on your own tongue when he kissed you after. You’d look so pretty with his cum dripping down your lips too. All fucked out and exhausted and full of bliss.

“Okay, I think I got it fixed, Carmy.” God, he’s so fucked for thinking of you like this as you’re innocently changing the light. Just trying to improve the kitchen and he’s thinking about ruining you. He was so caught up in daydreaming that he didn’t even feel you take the light cover back out of his hand and screw it into place again.

You’re beaming down at him, using his shoulders as arm rests as you bounce down from the stepping stool. His hand grazes your ass - A total accident. He swears it. You reach behind him to sit the screwdriver down, your chest firmly against his. Nothing thinking anything of the personal space violation as you’re used to it from so many slammed nights in the kitchen.

“Thank you for helping me. Sorry it was basically just five minutes of my ass in your face.” Carmy chokes.

His cheeks are hot.

Fuck is he blushing?

He’s sputtering out of his words. “It uh, it wasn’t in my face. Not that I looked, y’know. Just uh… Just - just trying to say that I’m happy to help.” He sounds like an idiot

You’re cocking an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “Holy shit, Carmy.” You pat your hands against his chest, not knowing your touch was like fire on his skin. He grabs the screwdriver and makes a beeline to the office to put it away for you.

Sure he grabbed a rag on the way. No it’s not for him to jack off into while he thinks of you.

Okay fine, it is.

“Fuck me.” The only thing Carmy can risk trying to say as the door shuts heavy behind him and his pants hit the ground.

———————–★–———

Carmen doesn’t avoid you now but he certainly makes it hard to get close to you. He’s too distracted when you’re around. Maybe there’s a bit of guilt mixed in too at his new night routine. Leave the restaurant, load your page, and wait to see what happens. New videos? New pictures? You were wormed into the back of his brain and it had to stop.

So your station got moved further down rotation. You’re at the end of the line on the left, he’s at the start on the right. It helps clear his mind, lets him hone in on perfecting what goes to the floor.

He’s able to move quickly, shifts blowing by as the restaurant’s rush takes all his attention. The clock clicks down two minutes till close, everyone working in silence to get the place flipped and go home. He’s wrapping up with Syd, helping her make a few adjustments to expo before grabbing a dead plate off of the end of the line and heading to the office with his food and a cup of water in hand. He needs a mental minute, a bite of food, and to let his thoughts all catch up.

The door’s already cracked and he’s halfway through the entry way when he registers you. Sitting there. At his desk. Your legs are crossed, a cool damp towel resting over your eyes. He wants to turn on his heel and retreat but decides that he can’t treat you any differently just because he’s developed some silly little crush. Running away would be treating you different.

“You good, Chef?”

To which you groan. Different from the ones he’s used to - This one is guttural, pained. You press your hands flat against the rag and will the cool temperature to help the pressure in your head. “Killer migraine, that’s all. Shit was moving so fast tonight and I wacked the back of my head on something in the walk in. Sorry for being in here, Carm. Just uh, needed a second.” You should push up out of the chair, show your respect. But right now you’re half convinced that standing up would be detrimental so for now you’re cemented to the seat.

“Heard.” Carmen nods to himself, sitting down the plate before opening up the desk drawer as quietly as possible. Your knee is pressing into the side of his thigh, grounding and warm. He fishes out a bottle of medicine, shaking out two pills. “Hold out your hand.”

You take a second to brace yourself for movement, sitting up and moving the towel off your eyes. Letting it pile up into a clump on the desk besides you. There’s no way around it - You look pitiful. Pouting up at Carmen as he hands over two pills and his cup out water. You take the pills diligently, taking a few gulps and letting your eyes fall back closed as you will them to kick in instantly. “Can I ask a favor?”

“Anything, Chef.”

Slowly, so not to shake yourself up, you turn the chair until your back is to Carmen. “Will you see if I gotta bump back there? Kinda terrified I gave myself a concussion but I don’t wanna believe it was that hard.”

He snickering, a grin pulling up the corners of his mouth as he steps closer. “Well you’d absolutely fuck me if you needed to file workmen’s comp so I’m gonna need you to be fine, ‘kay? Way too much fuckin’ paperwork to do on a Friday night.” You start to laugh but it’s quickly cut off into a small groan of appreciation as you feel warm, rough hands clasp either side of your shoulders.

Carmen works his way up your neck and catches himself holding his breath as his fingers brush along your scalp. He’s taking his time, savoring the moment, all under the pretense of taking care of his employee. That’s all. “Think we’re both in the clear. You feeling alright besides the headache? Need me to hold up some fingers for ya to guess? Haven’t managed to cut any off so we’ve got all ten to work with.” He’s got you laughing again while rough fingers work their way back down to your neck. The feeling of the vibration of your laughter against his hands sending chills down his back.

Wordlessly Carmen gets to work rubbing your shoulders. Tender, deep. Years of practice rolling out dough and desserts and tenderizing meat coming into play as he continues to knead away at your tense body. You let out an appreciative moan and Carmen has to start thinking of something to keep his inevitable hard on from being obvious.

When his hands come up closer to your neck once again he’s hit with flashbacks of the first video he watched. You choking yourself — Is that something you truly liked? If his hand came around to cup your throat, palm resting on one side with his fingertips firmly against the other, and lightly squeezed would you moan? Rub your thighs together in search of some hint of relief?

“Are you always this good with your hands, Chef? Hmm? Can’t imagine you giving Marcus this treatment.” You’re laughing and can practically hear the smirk in Carmen’s voice as he responds. “Yeah - You uh, didn’t know that? I just love you know, rubbing shoulders. It’s my thing. Kick your ass all night and then rub the stress out.”

He’s blanching a little at his reply. Kinda obvious but okay then, Carmen. You reach up, putting your hands atop his with a little smile. “Well thank you for… Rubbing my stress out, Chef.”

Carmen’s red. Head to toe just bright red. “Of course, Chef. Anytime.” He’s entertaining to say the least as you pat his hands before spinning around in his chair. You snag another drink of water, throwing him a wink before moving to exit the office. Your hand runs along his chest, an appreciative gesture, as you head back to the floor.

——————————★–

Late Saturday night Carmen’s so exhausted that he barely has the energy to take his work clothes off. Falling haphazardly onto his old couch, kicking his work boots off one at a time. His eyes are heavy, body aching, and he almost falls asleep before he gets to see you.

But he’s fishing his phone from his pocket, refreshing the all too familiar landing page to see you’re actively live. How you have the energy is beyond him.

You’re standing there trying on clothes that someone must send in and Carmy feels a pang of jealousy. He’s watching through half hooded eyes as you slip in a pair of shorts, turning your behind towards the camera and pulling them up just slightly to put more of your ass on display. You’re chatting away about the material while slowly pulling them down to reveal just this frilly little pair of panties that was sent in as well.

He’s propping the phone up on the armrest of the couch, laying on his side while he watches you chat away. It’s soothing. Almost like an ASMR video.

Carmen’s not sure when he fell asleep - Somewhere in-between you trying on a third outfit and attempting to clean up your bed from all the packaging. He finds you soothing, comforting. He makes a mental note to hunt out some sort of wish list you must have for these items before passing out and, once again, dreaming of you.

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #so many versions of his name #🤍: the bear #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #♡: carmen berzatto #the bear x reader #the bear smut #the bear #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmy smut #carmen x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x you

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nolita-fairytale · 4 months

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bad moon rising | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader

summary: in another lifetime, you meet mikey berzatto by chance one halloween night in nyc.

or, the fic based on this headcanon

warnings: angst, use of she/her pronouns, no use of y/n, second person pov, drug usage, high mikey b, swearing, family drama, depression, not a happy ending

wc: 3.7k

a/n: i wrote about grief again. shocking, i know. thank you all for your interest based on the headcanon it came from and thank you for your patience. i wanted so badly to post this around halloween and have been sitting on it since the better part of last year as one of my wips. finally, finally, it's here!! i took a slightly different approach than the headcanon, but i think it still does it justice. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the carmy taglist.

this what-if fic takes place october 2021 because it's make my heart surrender-canon that mikey and reader never met; reader x carmy are best friends and colleagues but it has not gone further than that.

masterlist

Halloween, in another lifetime:

“Can I get hands, please!” Carmy shouts out to the entire kitchen, only to be met with a strong chorus of ‘hands’ in response.

His team works together like a well-oiled machine; a tight run ship, led by a captain near-suffocated under the weight of the chip on his shoulder.

“Chef!” you hear the sound of your general manager’s voice ring through the kitchen, causing many a-heads to turn. She rarely comes into the kitchen during dinner service unless it’s serious. Her eyes lock with Carmy’s as he looks up from his expo, as if she’s about to deliver bad news.

His mind races through the possibilities, preparing to solve the next oncoming crisis. Could it be an undercooked steak? An overcooked duck breast? Another complaint of ‘too salty’ or ‘underseasoned?’

“Chef, you uh… you have a visitor,” she says instead–the last thing he expects to hear.

A visitor?

“Wh-?”

“Someone’s here to see you. Says he’s your… brother??” Carmy’s ears begin to burn, as he searches for your face amidst the chaos, your gaze there to catch him even from across the kitchen. Your presence feels reassuring, like a strong man in a storm. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s knee deep into service and he cannot get the sound of tickets being added to the expo out of his head. He opens his mouth to say something but he’s uncertain any words come out of his mouth, unsure of what he’d even say. You send him a reassuring nod, and it’s as if in one look, you’ve made the decision to go.

“Chef, you good?” Carmy hears you ask the head pastry chef.

“Yeah, we got it. But don’t take too long,” she answers with a curt nod of approval.

He watches as you nod again, this time in recognition of your boss’ answer, as you pull the food-grade nitrile gloves off of your hands, discarding them in the nearby trash can. Without a word, you follow Kate closely behind, exchanging a few words with her as the two of you disappear to the front of house. There’s a war inside of Carmy as he watches you go–a pang of guilt and a feeling of relief–that whatever it is, you’ve agreed to take care of it.

In all of the years that he’s been in New York, no one’s come to see him–the possibility of it happening now, let alone as a surprise, feels improbable.

Must be a prank or some shit….

It couldn’t really be Michael, could it?

As you seek out the answer, your feet carrying you faster than you anticipated, you realize that you’re searching for a face you’ve only seen in photographs. Kate follows closely behind while you push through the front door of the restaurant only to find a man pacing just outside of the restaurant, a ghostface mask in hand. You can tell he’s been sweating, the circles under his eyes just as dark as the ones you’ve become so familiar with in Carmy, with an anxious look in his eyes as his gaze turns towards you.

He’s certainly not the larger-than-life older brother you’ve seen in the sparse amount of pictures that Carmy’s shown you.

“I got this, Kate,” you mutter over your shoulder with a confident nod, letting your general manager know that you’re good on your own. “You sure?” she asks you quietly.

“I’m sure,” you answer, watching as a disappointed look spread across Michael’s face as soon as he sees that:

“You’re not Carmen.”

“Uh… no. I’m not,” you reply, hearing the front door to the restaurant close behind you. The man swears under his breath, and you watch as face changes from disappointment to annoyance quickly, as you try your best to come up with an explanation that may satisfy him. “He uh… he can’t come out. Not right now. So he sent me.”

Michael scoffs with a shake of his head, his eyebrows quickly rising and falling incredulously as he takes another drag off his cigarette.

“Shit... the guy can't even make time to see his big brother?" he asks, the annoyance obvious in his voice this time.

You take a step towards him, your arms folded across your chest.

“I’m sorry. I-, I don't think he was expecting you,” you answer, much more compassionately this time.

“Right,” Michael mumbles, barely loud enough for you to hear. You watch as he throws the butt of his cigarette down on the pavement, before stamping it out.

“It’s just-. He would if he could. I know it. It's just a busy night. I-... we're doing 200 covers tonight and uh... well, he runs the kitchen so,” you try again, and you can practically feel the disappointment (and resentment) burying itself deeper in Michael.

“Yeah, no thanks, lady. You don’t need to explain it to me. Jagoff can’t even make time to say ‘hi’ to his brother. Sends you to do his dirty work instead,” Michael dismisses you, bitterly.

He takes a beat. And then another, as if he’s accepted that he’s not going to see Carmy after all.

“Why don’t you come inside? I’m sure-,” you offer, taking another step towards him.

“‘S alright, sweetheart,” he dismisses you again, this time gentler. “You don’t need to make up for his bullshit.”

You open your mouth to say something—anything in defense of Carmy—but you’re certain that nothing you have to say will be enough for your best friend’s older brother (save for Carmy coming out here himself).

With a nod, you accept defeat, turning to go back inside. But there’s something that stops you—like you just can’t just go back inside without trying to remedy the situation one last time. This time all you say is:

“I don’t know how long you’re in town for but… we should be off by midnight.”

Michael only offers you a sympathetic smile before you slip back inside.

—---------------------------------------

It’s not until you and Carmy are packing up your things to head home that he brings it up—his mysterious visitor—hesitant to ask the question that’s been eating at him all night.

“So uh… was it really him? Michael?” he asks you, cautiously, as he watches your face carefully for any kind of reaction.

“Uh… yeah. I mean, at least the guy I recognized from your pictures,” you reply, hoping that the answer (or the fact that he missed his brother) won’t break his heart.

A beat.

“What’d he want?” Carmy asks, trying to mask his curiosity as best as possible.

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “Seems like he found himself in the city. I didn’t ask. I didn’t… know if you wanted me to.”

Carmy tries again.

“Oh no. It’s-, no I didn’t-, no, it’s okay.”

He takes his time, making up his mind about what he wants to say next.

“It’s weird, right? Guy can barely pick up the phone to say hello but… he can show up unannounced and just like-, expect me to drop everything?” he asks you—the look in his eyes telling you that his mind is miles away.

“I- I don’t know, Carmy,” you reply, heavily. “Are you… do you wish you had gone instead of me?”

Carmy’s quiet as he follows you out of the back door of the restaurant, thinking his answer over.

“I don’t know,” he answers slowly, a lack of confidence as the words fall out of his mouth. “Maybe?”

He’s not sure how he’s supposed to feel and right now he just feels… ambushed, which only makes him want to shut down.

Instead, Carmy changes the subject back to your post-work plans, the two of you debating what kind of post-shift late night meal you’re going to have before settling on a few slices of pizza on the way back to your place. You and Carmy cut through the alley to the front of the restaurant so that you can begin your late-night sojourn, and it’s only when he spots something odd that he stops you.

“What the fuck?” Carmy cuts you off, holding an arm out in front of you to stop you from walking any further.

You follow his line of sight right over to a figure moving towards the both of you. In the brief glimpse you’ve gotten of the person moving towards you, all you can see is a quick flash of the ghostface mask they hold in their hands as a bus drives by, obstructing your view.

Carmy’s heart stops, fear filling his chest as the bus speeds by, the person getting closer and closer until…

“Michael?!” Carmy shouts, squinting as he sees the man approach. His expression of pure shock leaves his jaw agape, rendering him speechless as he scrambles to try to find better words that:

“What-, what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Shit,” Michael scoffs playfully, with a chuckle, his breath uneven from the light jogging pace he’d kept. Michael takes note of the arm his younger brother’s extended, shielding you from him. “What? Can’t your big brother come surprise ya in the big city?”

Carmy shoots him a look that says, ‘when have you ever done that’ and Michael nods knowingly, his eyebrows quickly raising, then lowering as he makes peace with the fact that he’s never been that guy.

“Me and Deb… we came up for the weekend,” Mikey admits with a heavy sigh. “Tried to do something nice for her but, you know, broad’s been a real bitch-.”

“Mikey,” Carmy warns, taking a tone you recognize—the kind he uses when he’s going to yell at the saucier for a broken mornay.

“Right,” Mike course corrects at the volume of a mumble, heaving a heavy, yet disarming sigh.

Carmy nods slowly as he allows some part of him to relax, his arm falling away from you as the two of you exchange a look.

“We uh…. Got into another fight. She’s on her way back to Chicago now,” Mikey explains, the disappointment evident in his voice this time, almost as if it were an apology.

“Sorry,” Carmy mutters quietly, as you exchange a look with him.

“Nah it’s-, she’ll get over it,” Mikey brushes off with a shrug, his tone shifting as he extens an arm out to you.

“Fuck, where are my manners? I never properly introduced myself earlier. I’m Mikey. Mikey Berzatto,” he grins with a charm and confidence that’s been absent in both of your interactions with him till now. The smile that spreads across his face is contagious as he looks from you to Carmy, then back to you. “Shit. I’m sorry. ‘M fuckin’ jagoff, interupting your night like this. I should probably get-.”

“No!” you protest, almost too quickly, earning a look from Carmy. “We weren’t-, we were just getting off work and were gonna grab a bite. Maybe even… a drink?” you suggest, a hopefulness in your eyes as you turn towards Carmy.

“Yeah?” Michael asks, his interest piqued.

“Uhm. Just gonna grab a bite actually,” Carmy forces out, sending a glare in your direction.

“You know what’s crazy? I know a spot. With food. And drinks,” you challenge him, silently begging him to just go with it.

“You cool with that, Carm?” Mike asks this time, looking from you to his younger brother once more. It’s the first time that Carmy thinks Michael’s ever looked to him for approval.

Carmy’s quiet for a moment, torn between wanting to burn it all down or declare a gleeful ‘yes’ because at least Mikey wants to spend time with him.

“Um. Uh. Yeah. Yeah okay,” Carmy finally agrees.

“Alright, let’s fuckin’ do it!” Mikey rallies.

And as he turns to go, your voice instructing him that it’s only a few blocks from here, you and Carmy fall into stride, just a few steps behind Mikey.

“I’m gonna kill you,” Carmy threatens you—though there’s no weight to it—through gritted teeth.

You shove him playfully, bumping your shoulder against his side as the two of you walk, answering with a promise that: “You’ll thank me later.”

—---------------------------------------

You sit on one side of Carmy, Mikey on the other, and you can see why Carmy looks at his older brother like he hung the sun, the moon, and the stars above. There’s something different about Michael—something different than when you met him just hours ago outside of the restaurant—as he corrals the three of you into a round of shots.

As the shots of tequila arrive at the bar, Carmy dismisses his, his attention fixed to the still-full whiskey on the rocks he’d ordered earlier, just to appease his older brother. He watches you carefully as you and Mikey clink glasses before throwing back your own respective shots.

“Carm?” Mikey asks, nodding towards the third, untouched shot glass.

Carmy hesitates.

“It’s fine. I’ll take his,” you jump in, half as an attempt to give Carmy the out he so desperately desires, and half because, admittedly, meeting the great Mikey Berzatto makes you a little nervous.

Before anyone can protest, you reach out, picking up the shot glass, before tapping it down against the bar top, fearlessly throwing it back. Michael watches you with a sense of amusement, as your face crinkles in response to the sting of the liquor and the bitterness of the lime you chase it with.

He smirks, sharing a knowing look with his younger brother that says, “I like this girl,” which in turn only causes Carmy to blush. Before Mikey can say anything more, the song that blares through the speakers changes, earning his attention as he hears the familiar words:

“I see the bad moon a-risin' I see trouble on the way I see earthquakes and lightnin' I see bad times today”

“Alright, alright. Think it’s a little too on the nose if I admit that I love this song? On Halloween? C’maaaaaahn,” Mikey asks, almost as if it’s a confession in reference to the easily recognizable Creedance Clearwater revival hit.

“No! No, I love this song,” you’re quick to assuage his hesitation as your eyes light up in response to his recognition.

“You got good taste, kid,” Michael notes confidently, winking in his brother’s direction. “I like this girl, Carm.”

Only this time, he says it out loud. Carmy only shakes his head, the blush already running across his cheeks taking a deeper shade of red.

“Yeah, yeah. Uh. You both uh.. Like music,” Carmy smiles, gesturing from you to his brother. At least this is going a lot better than he expected it to, he reminds himself.

“Oh yeah?” Michael asks, clearly intrigued.

“Oh that’s right!” you exclaim, simultaneously. The excitement that brews within you has you stumbling over your words as you manage to get out:

“You’re-, oh my god! The Lennon jacket!”

“What?” Mike asks, shooting you a funny look.

“I’m sorry. I just-. I realize I’m not-,” you stammer over your words, trying your best to explain your earlier exclamation over your own excitement.

“You gave Carmy the denim jacket – the 1950s selvedge Wrangler!”

“Just like the-,” Michael starts, the two of you finishing his sentence at once with:

“... just like the one John Lennon had!”

“Marry this girl, Carm. Marry her right now. Tonight! Or I will,” Michael encourages, slapping his hand down against the bar. He speaks with so much bravado and conviction that you can only imagine that there was none left for Carmy. “Fuckin’ christ. I never should’ve let you two meet,” Carmy groans on an exasperated exhale as he shakes his head once again.

“Oh c’mon, Carm,” Mikey rouses him, with a playful eye roll.

“It’s totally my favorite jacket of his! I-, well, it’s a long story but we actually became friends over the jacket because he spilled a drink on me and-,”

“Ahhh real smooth.”

“No! No, it was okay, I promise. I-, I don’t know if we would’ve gotten to know each other if he hadn’t so-. Call it a lucky jacket, I guess,” you smile, stealing a look in Carmy’s direction. He shoots the smallest smile back to you, cognizant of the fact that Mikey’s observing the entire interaction.

As you begin to tell Michael the story about the aforementioned Lennon jacket, it could be minutes, hours, or days that pass, once you and Mikey finish trading facts about music like they’re trivia cards. It’s almost as entertaining as watching Mikey and Carmy go at it, bouncing facts about the history of denim like you’re at the French Open.

You excuse yourself to the restrooms—partially because you really have to pee and partially because it seems like this evening is going well—wanting to give both brothers some time alone. And as soon as you’re out of earshot, Mikey’s on Carmy like an FBI Investigation.

“This your girl, Carm, or what?" he asks with a casualness to his voice that sets off alarms in Carmy’s head.

"Mikey, stop it,” Carmy dismisses him, hoping more than anything for this to be the end of the conversation.

Instead, Mikey scoffs, shaking his head as he downs another shot.

"Then at least tell me you're hittin' that."

“Michael!" Carmy hushes his brother, a warning and protectiveness in his voice this time.

"Are you fuckin' serious right now, Bear?” Michael pushes further. “What, you're telling me you're not when she’s walkin’ around in your jacket, talkin’ about wearing your clothes to your big brother and I’m supposed to think-?"

"She's not!” Carmy cuts him off. “She doesn’t do-, she’s.... my friend. Jus’ give it up alright.”

"Shit. Wish I had a friend like that. Ya friends, kid, or are ya... you know... friends?" Mikey smirks, earning a venomous glare from his younger brother.

Carmy shakes his head in response, jaw clenched, as he stares down at the bar top, a feeling inside of him that he doesn’t like when he even thinks about Mikey looking at you like that.

"Shit, I thought I taught you better than that, Bear."

There it is again.

That feeling.

He’s not sure how to name it, but it’s enough to make Carmy want to deck his brother right then and there as it rises inside of him.

"I'm serious, Mike. We’re just friends,” Carmy spits out. He’s much more serious this time. “Cut it out."

But Michael’s too quick, his voice growing louder as he interjects on the tail end of Carmy’s insistence.

"Oh come on! The chick's smokin' fuckin' hot. And I can tell that you like her. I'm not blind, Carm. I see the way you-."

And if it’s as if something snaps inside of Carmy as he exclaims:

"Don't talk to me like you know what's going on in my life! Fuck!"

"Carm-."

"Can't even pick up the damn phone and then you just... waltz into town acting like everything is okay?!” he fumes, standing up out of his chair.

His face grows redder with each word, and it only confirms Mikey’s suspicions: that his little brother is absolutely a goner for you. He’s not sure he’s ever seen Carmy like this and he’s torn between feeling proud of his kid brother or pissed that the kid’s turning this around on him.

"Well, if you ever bothered to come home. You know mom's been askin' about you since you never fuckin’-,” Mikey roars, eager to relinquish the hotseat here.

“Oh don't bring mom into this!" Carmy protests.

It’s your voice that snaps him out of it—brings him back to earth as he hears you ask:

“Everything okay?”

Carmy can practically hear his heart pounding away in his ears; can feel the blood rushing through his head as he takes a deep breath. He swallows, takes a beat, then turns to you.

“Yeah uh. I think we should go,” he states, his voice uneven and tense as you try to get a read on either brother.

“Uh… yeah, I guess we can-, um,” you stammer out, wondering how things went from good to hell in a matter of minutes. Carmy mutters something about getting your stuff as you try your best to put the pieces together.

“It was uh, nice to meet you, Mikey,” you say softly, as soon as you get your coat on.

“Yeah. You too, sweetheart,” he nods, something distant in his voice. Carmen scoffs at his brother’s usage of the word before tugging on your arm.

You wait a beat, in anticipation of some kind of goodbye between the brothers, but there is none as you follow Carmy out of the bar.

—---------------------------------------

Halloween, again — in this lifetime:

When Carmy comes to, he can hear the faint sounds of an episode of Pasta Grannies in the background, uncertain of what time it is.

“Hey, you. You fell asleep on the couch and I didn’t have the heart to wake you up,” you say, as he begins to sit up. Carmy blinks his eyes a few more times, watching as you make your way from the kitchen island over to the couch, taking a seat at his feet.

“Did you still want to watch a scary movie? You know, in the spirit of the holiday?” you ask him with a soft chuckle.

All Carmy can remember before falling asleep was what he was thinking about: what it would be like if you had met Mikey. It’s something he thinks of often, especially as the two of you grow closer—as your relationship gets more serious—and it’s something he hates that he’ll never be able to give to you.

“This was his favorite holiday,” Carmy manages to get out, the sleep heavy in his voice.

You’re not all that surprised. Carmy’s been on edge lately and you assumed it was because Mikey’s birthday’s coming up. But this… this makes sense too.

“I wish I could’ve met him,” you smile, reaching out for one of his hands.

Carmy nods.

“Yeah. Uh. Yeah. Think he would’ve loved you.”

Maybe a little too much, he thinks to himself.

“You think so?” you ask with a vulnerability and a desire for reassurance that catches Carmy off guard.

He nods with much more confidence this time, offering you a soft, sympathetic smile.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I know so.”

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wannabeschyulersister · 19 days

Text

so long, chicago

Without the warmth of your things in the apartment, it looked sad and cold. The boxes that you packed were stacked along the hallway. Movers were scheduled to help you in the next hour.

Your belongings would be traveling across the country with you following.

After one last sweep of the apartment to make sure you weren’t forgetting anything, you stood at the large bay window facing the city. A city that you once considered home.

You’d miss Chicago. You’d miss the people that you’d met. The connections that you formed. The memories. The laughter.

The sound of the front door opening snapped you out of your thoughts. You turned and saw Carmen walk in. You didn’t expect for him to be home anytime soon. You’d hoped that you could avoid the last interaction.

“Hey.” You said softly.

He nodded, “I thought you’d be halfway outta town by now.”

“The movers should be here any minute.”

Carmen took off his coat and placed it on the right hook near the door. Yours would normally go on the left but it was currently sitting on top of one of your suitcases.

“Richie said you stopped by the restaurant last night.”

“Yeah, I wanted to tell him goodbye.”

“I guess that’s nice.”

“You guess?”

“What do you expect for me to say, (Y/n)? I love that you’re abandoning me and everyone you’ve met here?”

“Abandoning you?” You couldn’t believe that he really said that.

“We’ve been together for six fuckin’ years! One day you wake up and realize you don’t want to be with me anymore out of the fuckin’ blue!”

“Out of the blue?,” you raised your voice, “Carmen, I dreaded making that decision for months! You were so out of touch that you didn’t even realize that we had stopped acting like a couple long before I ending things.”

Carmen chuckled bitterly, “That’s not true.”

You hadn’t planned on leaving on ugly terms with Carmen. If anything, you wanted it to be civil. You were huge parts of each other’s lives. Under all of the pain and heartbreak, there was love.

“I was the only person trying in this relationship. You would get home at one or two in the morning and I’d try waiting around just so we can have a conversation after not seeing each other all day. I planned date nights and tried to pry you out of that kitchen to notice that I was practically falling apart at the seams!” You confessed. It hurt you that he hadn’t even noticed.

“Relationships are hard! That why you have to make them work!” Carmen was visibly upset at how the conversation was going.

“I was the only one fighting for this, Carmen! When was the last time you bought me flowers or texted me to see how my day was going? I barely even heard an ‘I love you’.”

“I do love you. So much that I don’t want you to go and move to San Diego. You belong here with me and- and with your friends. People that care about you!”

“Sometimes love isn’t enough. I’m tired, Carmen. Tired of feeling like I don’t mean shit to you. I need to be with someone that wants to be with me. I want someone that won’t make me feel alone when we are together.”

Carmen closed the space between you two. It was the closest he’d been to you in days. He still smelled of the cologne that you bought him for Christmas with a faintness of the cigarette he must’ve smoked before.

“I thought we’d spend the rest of our lives together.” He said softly.

“If you thought so, then why aren’t we married? I’ve had friends in shorter relationships that have taken the next step. I’ve waited for so long for you to ask me to be your wife and every anniversary that passes, I know that it’s not going to happen. I don’t want to leave. I really loved living here. This felt like home more than any place I’ve lived in, but I can’t stay here.”

“I’ve been a fuckin’ selfish asshole. I’m sorry. You don’t know how sorry I am. Please, I’ll make things up to you. I’ll change.”

“And when things get hard? When you get busy and stressed at the restaurant, then what? It goes back to how things were? I can’t put myself through that. I can’t take that chance.” It killed you seeing him so upset but when you broke up with him, it was like you could breathe again.

You were becoming the person that you used to be. You didn’t want to sacrifice yourself for someone else that didn’t give you the time of day.

Three knocks to the front door made you step away from Carmen. You opened the door and saw the movers with a dollie and a couple of extra boxes.

“Excuse me.” You felt Carmen grab his coat and brush past you. Part of you wanted to chase him down and wrap your arms around him. You didn’t want the last image you had of him to be so hurt.

As you watched the movers grab your boxes and take them down to the awaiting truck, you grabbed the letter that you wrote for Carmen. You planned to leave it on the kitchen counter.

You didn’t know if he’d even read it. Maybe he would rip it up into tiny pieces. Maybe he would read it over and over again.

It wasn’t up for you to wonder. You were at peace with your decision and that’s all that mattered.

#carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x (y/n)#carmen berzatto x you #the bear x reader #carmy x reader #the bear imagine #carmy berzatto

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etherealising · 10 months

Text

interlude zero | dear carmy

↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣ | masterlist

pairing: carmen berzatto x self-sabotage | carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: a look into carmy's life and thought process in the aftermath of the berzatto family christmas.

wc: 4.6k

thank you for all the love and support, please enjoy this first special chapter dedicated to all of you! 💜

January 2019

Carmy sat on the fire escape of his New York apartment, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips, the sun slowly setting behind all the high-rise buildings. It wasn’t the best view but it allowed him to take advantage of the somewhat fresh air New York had to offer. He had been out there for quite a bit now on his second cigarette in 15 minutes.

His thoughts were racing as they usually did, never being spared a quiet moment from his thoughts. His head raced with ideas he’d thought about trying in the kitchen, thoughts about a new tattoo he was hoping to get, wondering when Mikey would finally see how far he’d come. His mind pushed forth anything and everything he could think of, all so the slideshow in his head kept what happened a month ago between the two of you in the dark recesses of his mind.

Carmy told himself that if he didn’t think about the things he wasn’t ready to resolve, then there was no way that they could hurt him, no way that they could force their way out and get him to admit that they indeed were a part of his reality. Accountability wasn’t Carmy’s strong suit, and over the years when it came to the two of you, he felt it best to sweep things under the rug, no point in prodding at old wounds if the friendship between the two of you was well past saving.

He sat there as the sky transitioned colors; blue bleeding into orange, a sunset he knew you would’ve appreciated. Cigarette already burned out, the poison coating his lungs helping to warm his body from the chill that was settling in the air. There was a knock on his apartment door, the unit was so small that even sitting on the fire escape made him feel like he was right next to the door. He ignored it, no one ever stopped by his place, it’s not like he was inviting coworkers back to his place or anything, if it was important they’d come back tomorrow. The knock sounded again, and again Carmy ignored it, his knee bouncing up and down as he hoped whatever nuisance at his door took the hint to leave.

Carmen Berzatto was never lucky enough to get what he wanted. An incessant knocking began on the front door with no indication that the strings of knocks would be stopping soon. Hands running down his face Carmy aggressively stood up from his chair, if he wanted to be bothered at home he would’ve put a fucking welcome mat outside of his door. He reached the door twisting the knob and yanking it open, he frowned at the sight of legs, face covered by the package in their hands.

“Package here for a uh, Carmen Burzetto.” The mispronunciation of his last name caused Carmy to cringe. He nodded at the delivery person wanting to end this interaction as quickly as possible, he was presented with a package slip and pen quickly signing his name without paying attention. The package was handed off to Camry, tucking it under his arm he closed the door not giving the delivery person another second.

Walking to his kitchen Carmy set the box on his countertop confused at what it could be. He never ordered shit so he knew this wasn’t of his own volition, he found the packing sticker, the return address of his family home jumping out at him. He grabbed his only knife, cutting the box open. He could only assume that the package was from his mom, and what she felt the need to send him he had no clue.

Setting the knife to the side he quickly removed the medium-sized box covered in bubble wrap. Tearing at the protective wrap, he stopped as he realized exactly what he was looking at. Sitting on his counter staring back at him was a matte black box with a matching bow and envelope addressed to him; a box he had purposely left behind a month ago, the same night he had left you.

He checked the bottom of the now empty box the gift arrived in, hoping to find some sort of return slip, only to come up short. His gaze fell back on the present, hands moving up to tug at his hair. He couldn’t open it, didn’t think he deserved to. Not after having left you to wake up in a lonely bed the day after Christmas, no apology or excuse just you and a confused Richie wondering how he had suddenly been roped into dropping you off at the airport. Not with all the disappointment he had caused, he wasn’t worthy of the kindness you had shown him time and time again.

Carmy paced around his tiny kitchen, he could always ask Sugar or Mikey for your address. Returning the present he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he accepted. You were a great gift giver, so great in fact he had your gifts in a designated box that traveled with him everywhere he went the last couple of years; even Copenhagen a box of memories taking up space in the small boat house. Memories from the person who had held his heart long before he realized it for himself.

He stopped in front of the box, hands resting on his hips debating the pros and cons of opening the gift. In a way he owed it to you to open the box, sending it back would’ve just made him an even bigger asshole than he probably already was in your book. His hands reached out pausing on the edge of the countertop to calm the shaking. When he deemed himself stable enough he reached up to untie the velvet bow, the softness that caressed his fingers reminding him of what it had felt like to hold your neck in his hand as he thumbed the ink stain behind your ear.

How his breath hitched as you shamelessly told him the small letter permanently inked into your skin could have represented his last name if he wanted it to. Losing himself to memories, he wondered what would have ensued had he taken up your offer to let the brand on your skin represent a part of him. He had wanted to give in, wanted to paint your skin with more than a letter that he knew, in reality, had nothing to do with him. It confused him all the same though, hearing those words leave your lips felt like a cruel joke to him. He was just a grown-up version of the little boy that had been your best friend, was sure you were just in need of a distraction, and Carmy had laid the perfect opportunity in your lap by inviting you to spend the night with him.

He broke from his reverie dropping the loosened bow from his grasp, eyes landing on your pretty cursive that painted the black envelope with his name. His fingers traced over the letters, the closest thing he had to touching you at this moment. Holding the envelope in his hand Carmy’s gaze burned into it before setting it off to the side. He was already opening your present, he didn’t think he had the guts to find out what was hidden inside the ominous black envelope.

Carmy took one more deep breath before removing the top of the box from its joined position with the bottom part. Carefully unfolding the tissue paper to not rip it, he uncovered two decent-sized velvet bags with the logo reading ‘Made in’ in gold foil. Carmy carefully removed the two bags from the box, pushing the empty box off the countertop to make room. He opened the first bag confused at what was in his hands for a moment before something clicked and he sat the block upright. Grabbing the second bag he took out the heavy roll laying it down before quickly unrolling it, the unblemished metal reflecting the kitchen light onto his face.

He sat his hands on the counter, head dropping between his shoulders as he let out a deep sigh. He knew this had to have cost you a pretty penny, he could tell just by looking at the knife set. Unable to help himself he pulled the Chef Knife out, testing the weight of it in his hands, he carefully looked over the tool, appreciating the wood-like finish of the handle. Before he could return the knife to its rightful place his eyes caught sight of an engraving on the handle. Holding the knife up to his eyes he felt his breath hitch as he took in the letters, fingers ghosting of the initials ‘C.B.’ that had been a personal touch. One by one he removed the other three knives only to find that they had all indeed been engraved with his initials.

Carmy threw his head back, eyes staring at the ceiling as a sorrowful laugh escaped his lips. He felt a tightness in his chest as he tried to come to terms with what you had gifted him. The thoughtfulness and the care that you put into this gift proved to him that you had always been a better friend than he had ever been to you. The fact that you had gone out of your way to get his initials engraved into the set, something he knew definitely cost extra, squeezed at his chest. He wasn’t good at this shit and he hated it because you were, it came easy to you, the caring, the friendship, everything.

Carmy came back to earth choosing a spot to showcase his new knife set and block. Just because he didn’t have any guests over didn’t mean Carmy himself didn’t want to be able to marvel at the gift every time he came home. Unconsciously positioning them so they were the first thing his eyes landed on as soon as he stepped through the door. He stood there for some time just admiring the set, envelope lying forgotten on the countertop as he mentally berated himself for all the mistakes he made with you.

April 2019

Carmy had just returned home after a particularly rough shift. His chef coat was stained with whatever concoction his co-worker had spilt on him. Carmy felt like everything that could go wrong in the kitchen during his shift, did. He felt like he was off his game, constantly striving to be the best in the kitchen, working his ass off to show how much he belonged, how much he deserved to be there. The praise he desired was nowhere to be found instead being told he was “a worthless fucking idiot not even McDonald’s would hire.”

Not even the knife set he had set up three months ago could raise his spirits. He had half a mind to knock the fucking thing over, the metal mocking him the longer he stared in its direction. He threw his soiled chef coat on the cheap dining table chair he had acquired making his way to the fire escape, a much-needed smoke on his mind.

Sometimes he wondered what would happen if he just decided to give it all up one day. He never would, he knew that, but sometimes he just needed a few ‘what ifs’ to help calm him down. He would regret it, that’s what would happen and he’d probably be more miserable without it in his life than he was with it. He sat on the fire escape for a while burning through three cigarettes in all with the stress he was feeling.

Moving back into the apartment he made his way to the kitchenette hoping to make himself a quick PB&J and call it a night. He removed a cup from his dish drain running it under the faucet to refresh himself. He drank a quarter of the cup before moving to set it down on the countertop, hand missing by an inch as he practically slammed the glass into the countertop, the cup breaking on impact as his mail fell victim to the flood.

Carmy let out a sharp curse, the feeling of being cut racing through his palm as he dropped the remaining glass from his grasp. For a moment he just watched as his mail soaked up the water, before grabbing the closest dish towel and doing his best to clean up the mess. He dried the mail as best he could snatching it up to sit atop the little dining table where the air from the open window could hit it. Carmy glanced down at his palm, the cut was not deep enough to warrant any stitches, he used the damp dish towel as a makeshift bandage and wrapped his hand.

A black water-stained envelope caught his eye stopping him momentarily before he rushed to grab it, the lettering on the front already smeared and unreadable, “Fuck!” The loud curse reverberated off of his apartment walls as he ran to quickly flick on his stovetop, hoping the heat would help to dry out the contents. He stood over the stove envelope dangling over the burner careful to not let it get close enough to catch fire. If there was ever a day to finally face what he had been avoiding and open this damn envelope, today seemed like as good a day as any.

Zoning out Carmy stood there racking his brain for what the envelope could contain. A traditional Christmas card would have been the easiest thing to find in there, but he knew you didn’t do easy. That’s why he allowed the envelope to age on his countertop, whatever you had sealed into the sleek black pocket would be a tough pill for him to swallow.

The singe of his thumb brought him back to reality, the heat of the burner licking at his fingers burning his forefinger and thumb as he unconsciously dropped the envelope right onto the stovetop. “Shit! Fuck me!” The expletives left his lips as he forcefully plucked the envelope from its position and played hot potato with it before he was able to get it to the countertop. He brought his fingers to his lips aiming to soothe the throbbing in them.

Carmy stood with his hands on his hips, angry breaths leaving his nostrils as he tried to keep the slim thread of his calmness in check. Snatching the singed envelope from the countertop he made sure he still had a pack of cigarettes in his jean pocket before making his way out to his normal spot on the fire escape. The cheap lawn chair he had sat out there was a welcoming sight.

Plopping down in the chair Carmy lit a much-needed cigarette before stilling his shaking hands and delicately opening the envelope, not wanting to ruin something that had once been in your hands. He was right, things with you were never easy, because what he was hoping to be some cheesy Christmas card, was instead a folded letter with your pretty cursive dancing across the pages.

Head tilting towards the sky as Carmy tried to find strength in the cosmos, the weight of the letter settled into his lap where he had placed it to gain his bearings before diving straight in. Focusing back on the pages he carefully straightened them out; slight water damage had seeped through them but not enough to ruin them. Taking one last deep breath Carmy began reading the letter.

𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒚,

𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒚 𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒓𝒚. 𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 𝑰𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒅, 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑰 𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒎𝒔 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒂𝒈𝒆. 𝑲𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒊𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒄 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰’𝒎 𝒂 𝒋𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏’𝒕 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒂 𝒇𝒆𝒘 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐 𝒂 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅. 𝑫𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒂𝒚, 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒚? 𝑨𝒕 𝒎𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝑰 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒘𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆, 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒎𝒆, 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆, 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒆.

𝑺𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏’𝒕 𝒃𝒆 𝒂 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒐𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓, 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕’𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍��𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒏𝒐 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒆𝒇𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇. 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒔𝒐 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒇 𝑰 𝒑𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒆 𝑰 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒅𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇. 𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒐 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚’𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐 𝒃𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆.

𝑰 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒔𝒊𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒔𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝑰’𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒅𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒓, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏’𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒖𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒓. 𝑺𝒐 𝒘𝒉𝒚 𝒘𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒈𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒑𝒆𝒏 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕?

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕 𝒎𝒆, 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒚. 𝑰 𝒃𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒇𝒇 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆-𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒕𝒆𝒙𝒕, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒔𝒚 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒚, 𝑰 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒅.

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒕𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒖𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒔 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒗𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒍. 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒅𝒆𝒇𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒖𝒑 𝒆𝒙𝒄𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒇𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒏 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒔 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒔 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒂 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓. 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏’𝒕 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒗𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒐 𝒆𝒙𝒄𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒓𝒚.

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒄 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒇𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒔𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒚 𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓. 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒅𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒆, 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘, 𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝒘𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒅-𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝑰 𝒏𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘.

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘, 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒆, 𝑰 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒅 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝒃𝒆𝒈𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕’𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒚 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒑𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒘𝒉𝒐’𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒍𝒆𝒇𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇?

𝑰𝒕’𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒘𝒆 𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒌𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂𝒏 𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒐𝒕 𝒗𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒅𝒐𝒛𝒆𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒑𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒂𝒍 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 𝑾𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒚 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂 𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒍𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊�� 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑰’𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆.

𝑰 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒚, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒕 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒔. 𝑰𝒕 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑰 𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒆𝒗𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒆𝒘𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 𝑰𝒕 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑴𝒊𝒌𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑵𝒂𝒕, 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝑹𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒖𝒑 𝒊𝒏 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚’𝒓𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕. 𝑰𝒕 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒚 𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕. 𝑰𝒕 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒕 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒇𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑱𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝑨𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝑹𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓 𝑪𝒉𝒆𝒇. 𝑰 𝒃𝒆𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒏’𝒕 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒏𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒖𝒔𝒉 𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒂𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆.

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒆𝒏, 𝑰 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒏’𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒎 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕. 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒔. 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒊𝒏 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝑰 𝒂𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒐 𝒐𝒏. 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒏𝒐𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒐 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒚. 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑰 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝑰 𝒈𝒐 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒖𝒑 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒖𝒔 𝒂𝒕 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒖𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏. 𝑰 𝒈𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆'𝒔 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒂 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒖𝒍𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒕 𝒖𝒑. 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒚 𝒆𝒇𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏, 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒏’𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒎 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒐.

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒆𝒏 𝑩𝒆𝒓𝒛𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒐. 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝑰’𝒅 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐 𝒊𝒕 𝒂 𝒉𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒇 𝒊𝒕 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆. 𝑴𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝒎𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒖𝒎𝒃, 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔𝒏’𝒕 𝒊𝒕?

𝑾𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒂 𝒋𝒐𝒌𝒆? 𝑨𝒔 𝑰’𝒎 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒄𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒔𝒐 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒆𝒏 𝑩𝒆𝒓𝒛𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒐.

𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒕? 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒌 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒊𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒐.

𝑵𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒔 𝒎𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝑪𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒉𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒏 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔, 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒇𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆. 𝑩𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝑰 𝒈𝒐 𝑰 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖.

𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒅𝒊𝒇𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒕 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒓𝒆𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒆𝒍𝒔𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒂𝒚.

𝑼𝒍𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆. 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒆 𝒂 𝒓𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒇𝒆𝒘 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒆𝒕.

𝑴𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝑰’𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒂𝒚, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓. 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒘, 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝑰’𝒗𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆. 𝑨𝒍𝒔𝒐 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒔𝒐 𝒂𝒕 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒕, 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆?

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒏𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒚, 𝑰’𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 𝑨𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔,

Carmy let out a slight chuckle about your lack of knowledge in the culinary arts. He traced your closing signature fingers taking extra care when tracing over the longtime nickname in your sign-off. He allowed himself to let what he’d just read sink in, he was going to have to look for that article you mentioned. The tightness in his chest was ever present as he devoured every word you had written for him. He should’ve opened the letter sooner, he knew that now. He distracted himself from your words by digging through the discarded envelope fingers hoping to latch onto the pictures you mentioned.

He brought forth two aged Polaroid pictures. The first is a group photo of the five of you - Mikey, Richie, Sugar, You, and Carmy - all squished together in the photo. The date on Mikey’s hat reminded him exactly what the occasion was. The five of you were all huddled around The Beef’s booth, Mikey and Richie on the far left side, arms thrown over the other, big smiles directed at the camera. Sugar stood smiling in the middle hands placed on the cheap fold-out table in front of them. Carmy’s eyes drifted to the last two figures in the photo, the two of you taking up the right portion of the Polaroid.

There Carmy was sitting at the table relegated to manning the cash box because Mikey wouldn’t let him help with cooking. You were behind him, bending over to be at the same level as him, and your head sat comfortably next to his. Your arms were thrown around his shoulders, hanging off of him like a koala, your bright smile mesmerizing as it was directed at the camera. While you were looking at the camera, he was looking at you, head slightly turned in your direction, a small shy smile directed your way as he focused on you.

Carmy’s thumb came up to gently caress the 15-year-old versions of the two of you trapped in the Polaroid, the same small smile gracing his features as he remembered that day. He sat the picture in his lap before moving on to the next.

The second Polaroid was just the two of you. Dressed in your finest garments for senior prom, standing on the porch of the Berzatto home. He remembered that night, the night he took Claire to the prom and realized that no girl he took an interest in would compare to the way he felt for you. He focused on the old photo in his hand trying to ignore the lavish corsage your date had bought you.

The more he looked down at the photo, the more he decided it was his favorite of the two of you together. You and Carmy stood side by side, neither of you paying any attention to the camera, your body turned slightly into his as your right hand rested right where his heart was. His arm settled around your waist, both of you staring at each other, the picture capturing the moment Carmy knew he wanted more than a friendship with you. Right before the picture had been taken Carmy had whispered about how beautiful he thought you looked, he remembered the look in your eyes as his compliment caught you off guard, the way your eyes quickly flashed to his lips as he gave you his small shy smile.

Carmy patted his pockets before pulling out his wallet and slipping the photo into the clear partition. He collected the other photo and the letter you had sent him entering through the fire escape and heading to his kitchen. He found the random magnet that had been on his fridge since moving in and placed the group photo on his freezer.

He quickly maneuvered his way out of the kitchen, making his way to the closest in his bedroom. He rummaged through the mess looking for your designated box in his closet. Eyes finding the wrapped present he had meant to send you three months ago, even though it was April he was hoping you wouldn’t be too miffed about the lateness of your gift. He had tried to convince Mikey to send it for him but was called a “fucking idiot” before Mikey promptly hung up on him, and when he tried to ask Sugar for your address she told Carmy to ask you himself.

On top of not bringing you a present when he returned home for Christmas, it had taken a month to find a reputable seller for the specific vintage camera he was looking for. And another month on top of that to bargain with them and actually buy the camera, so Carmy thought he was doing a pretty good job for himself.

Making his way back into the kitchen Carmy sat the present on the countertop. He paced around the enclosed space, hyping himself up to make the call and ask for your address, and if he was lucky, maybe even invite you out to New York if you had any vacation days. He couldn’t help himself, although your letter to him was less than heart-warming, it ignited hope in him regarding you that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Leaning against the countertop, Carmy slipped his phone from his pocket. Opening up his contact list he scrolled down to your name, he clicked on it momentarily checking the time. It was 10 pm where you were, he knew you wouldn’t have been asleep yet. Carmy took one last deep breath before pressing the call button.

Camry listened to the phone ring as he placed it against his ear, foot tapping rhythmically against the linoleum. Eyes focused on your present sitting in his kitchen.

The tightness in Carmy’s chest intensified tenfold as he listened to the automated voice streaming through his ear.

“We’re sorry; you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again.”

a/n: tag yourself, i’m carmy x self-sabotage : ) i almost changed carmy’s gift because i forgot his knife (the one he gave tina) already has his initials, but then i realized baby wouldn’t even know that and since carmy seems like the type to not spoil himself baby will lol. i promise carmy won’t be an asshole forever he’s just stupid atm. also i don’t know shit about culinary tools and i got caught up looking at pretty knives so i just picked my favorite 😭

let me know if there are any questions regarding the timeline and i’ll make a post about it or something!!

taglist: @hawkins-2000 @elliesbabygirl @allbark-no-bite @anakinswh0re3005 @rexorangecouny @thecraziestcrayon @fruitcupsworld @nishinoyahhh @lilylovelyxo @ridingthehotmessexpress @noas-ark @jadeittic @hellokittyever @luvr-bunnyy @sxgees @fandomhopped @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @kravitzwhore @chanluuvr @readingwiththereids @chims-kookies @ladygrey03 @ferida-kahlo @wanderlustnightwanderer @how2besalty @armydrcamers @jointherebellion215 @jackierose902109 @blkbxrbie-esther @ajordan2020 @head-slut-in-charge @magnet-girl @thebookwormlife @yeehawbitchs @khena @kailyn-05 @ovaqma @fire-treasure-iii @frequentnosebleeder @gcidvrsh @awatt31 @cauliflowerpatch

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto angst #carmen berzatto x you #the bear x reader #the bear fic #all i ever knew only you ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊#[aiekoy] interlude 0 #[aiekoy]

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l4long-winded · 3 months

Note

mad carmy with sassy reader that doesn’t take his shit!!! (smut!)

ask and you shall receive (happy valentine's day, love)

o.s. fire in the freezer

summary: it's opening night and you're stuck inside the walk-in with your boss, carmen. can the night get any worse? (carmen berzatto x afab!reader)

reflection: this took me embarrassingly long. i had a lot to get through these past weeks. i still have a busy schedule with college and life, but i want to do more of these. i have about 3 or 4 prompts i need to get to, but i think i'll be able to manage. also, this might be ooc for some people? idk, it's fiction. please enjoy and feedback is always appreciated!

warnings: cursing, longwinded descriptions, angry!carmy, angry!reader, takes place during the season 2 finale (pretending claire doesn't exist), implied enemies to lovers, reader's pov, reader is a line cook(?), arguing, surprise kissing, walk-in shenanigans, dirty talk, mention of fridge guy, use of the word "slutty," walk-in p in v, unprotected (please let me know if there are other warnings i need to add)

word count: 2,140

( this work has been cross-posted to ao3 )

“What the fuck did you just say?”

It’s alarming how crimson his face appears considering the walk-in’s cold air biting at both your limbs, how you imagine the rising heat of his breath combats the freezer’s chill, puffs relaying the steam building within him. It’s a miracle it doesn’t fume from his ears. Fifteen minutes have passed, fifteen minutes of remaining silent as Carmen mouthed off about the unfairness of the situation, how his cell phone doesn’t have service, how he doesn’t know what the fuck is going on out there when your coworkers have seemingly abandoned the both of you to fend for yourselves. You don’t blame him. You don’t want to be in here any more than he does, but there’s this wretched thing about Carmen that he does when tensions are high and his temper flies off the handle. He gets mean. He becomes hurtful. You’ve worked with him long enough to see it occur, the venomous speech he mutters at a high volume as a tendon in his neck protrudes and the person being yelled at flinches in shock. Though such poison’s never been doused over your head, he’s never directed that anger towards you.

Until now. He inadvertently called you an idiot along with the coworkers busying themselves outside the walk-in. There’s not much they can do about the freezer’s handle breaking, and you both know that, but he’s not calming himself down, nor is he making this easier on you when you’re stuck in the same situation as him. You two are prideful and confident in your actions in the kitchen. Sure, you’ve butted heads a few times and stared each other down from afar, but your relationship’s been tame for the most part.

“I said, ‘Stop acting like a fucking cunt.’” You bark back. So much for being tame. You couldn’t stop the words from spilling from your mouth. Everyone has the grace and privilege of being able to ignore him since he’s locked away here with you, but unfortunately, you’re not as lucky. You don’t appreciate being talked down to and you won’t take it from your boss just because he’s irate and the world is crumbling beneath your feet. You want to head out there and contribute to the restaurant as he does, but you’re also not spewing hateful soliloquies to the one person who could possibly understand what you’re going through. That, and it’s fucking cold in here, you’re irritated by the temperature frosting over your skin. It’s opening night and you’re stuck with your least favorite person in the kitchen—your least favorite person possibly in Chicago. The last thing you’re going to do is sulk near the stored ingredients while he shouts and pounds away at the freezer’s door.

This is his fucking fault. How fucking dare he? Why are you paying for his sin?

Just as it did the first time, the second time renders him, miraculously, speechless. It’s not because he doesn’t have anything to reply back, this is evident in how he purses his lips together and clenches his jaw. You notice it flex as he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing, previously hidden by the collar he’s now unbuttoned. He stares at you with a pointed gaze, eyebrows ever so slightly knitted inwards. Neither of you has to utter a single word to understand how much you can’t fucking stand each other, how Carmen is purposely holding back since you’ve caught his petulant tantrum and condescended him for it. The absence of sound between you two is grim as if he’s waiting for the apology, but fuck him, you’re not apologizing for shit. Instead, you mimic his facial expression like he’s staring into a mirror, crossing your arms against your chest for good measure to illustrate the guard he won’t be breaking through anytime soon.

Carmen steps forward. It’s a singular step. There’s only backwards to go before you end up meeting the shelves, so you remain where you are. His body heat radiates, prominent not because you’re that close, but because the freezer’s becoming more unforgiving the longer you’re both in here.

“Say it again,” he breathes.

You blink rapidly as if he’s a mirage, as if he’ll disappear, and as if he’s grown two other heads. He wants you to say it again? Is this some kind of a test? It has to be. There aren’t many other options, besides how he steps even closer within your vicinity and away from the locked palisade ahead. The temperature rises, and the fucked part about it is that your body’s instinctual need to survive urges you to collide into his frame to share feverish flames instead of standing in the chilled atmosphere on your lonesome. Carmen’s mandibles buckle, a sign of his bottled intentions, of what he really wants to say. You wish he’d just spit it out rather than goad you into the unemployment line.

“Call me a cunt again,” he dares and confirms your previous thoughts. He’s standing so close, proximity lacking to the point where his hot breath ghosts your nose and cheeks. Again, your instincts urge, and again, you will them to shut the fuck up and let me handle this. How convoluted and capricious you are. Arguing with innate impulses on the inside while arguing with your superior on the outside, fastened to him inside an icy cage as your coworkers take advantage of the kitchen’s liberating space without you. Fuck them too, they haven’t told either of you shit in what feels like forever and Carmen’s acting out of character. He’s not supposed to be with you like this. He’s not supposed to be gazing at you like he’s about to blow up. He’s not supposed to be challenging you into an impossible situation. You’ve called him a cunt twice. Twice. Three times symbolize the three strikes before you’re out.

Well, if you’re going out, you’re going down swinging your bat as hard as you can, spins and all, dirt flying and wind ricocheting. He’s thrown his virulence. Now, it’s your turn.

“Cun—nnnmph,” is not what you expected to utter, but before you could punctuate that final phoneme, Carmen’s mouth swallowed it greedily, and transitioned it into an astonished noise muffled by his lips. Your eyes flutter, searching his face for a way to explain why the hell this is happening, but suddenly, Carmen shifts his head, the kiss he’s sprung on you deepening, and an accidental swipe of his tongue shuts your eyes. All in a matter of two conflicted seconds.

“Thought you,” you murmur between his stifling, repeated connections, “wanted me to,” he’s practically shoving his tongue against yours, “call you a–”

He grunts in frustration. Seemingly towards you. His hands grasp your biceps, forcing your eyes onto his as his breathing shallows out. “Believe me, it won’t be the only time you put a cunt in my mouth tonight,” he says sharply. You don’t know why your thighs tremor. You fault the near-hypothermia.

“Shit, you’re cold,” he states the obvious as his attention turns to his palms on your arms, as if he didn’t just plant such a filthy image in your mind’s eye. His thumbs stroke over your goosebumps, examining your skin with careful scrutiny. If you didn’t know any better, you swear you see worry cross his visage for a moment. His hands aren’t any better, but they’re warmer than your flesh, and skin-to-skin makes this situation a little more bearable. You won’t tell him that, but he seems to have an idea of how you’re not flinching away from his touch. In fact… you’re leaning into it.

“Of course I am. It’s the walk-in,” you say sarcastically. “Wouldn’t be here if you had just called Tommy,” you add, but he exhales a heavy breath through his nose. He shrugs off his jacket to his Chef’s Whites, rolling his eyes, muttering something to himself about Tony, Terry, and Tommy, fucking fuck it all.

“Shut the fuck up, put this on, and turn around,” he hands you the jacket. He had the prerogative of wearing sleeves in here, so he’s not as frigid as you are (temperature-wise, anyway).

“It’ll keep you warm while I fuck you,” he promises, hard gaze on your eyes. You gulp, a desire within you to tell him off for being so presumptive of what’s happening here. Yet, that desire is viciously censored in favor of the desire to do as he says, or more so, the idea of being railed to distract you from how cold you are.

You slip his jacket on, pivoting on your heel, biting your tongue as you lean forward and grasp the metal belonging to the shelves ahead. The inside of his sleeves are already snug and cozy on your arms because of how long he wore it. You hate it. The smug bastard’s not supposed to be right.

You gulp as Carmen’s knuckles graze your lower back, lifting his jacket out of his way for a moment to tug at the waistband of your pants. You hear his breathing stutter, his hand skimming down the sensitive flesh of your ass as his eyes trace over the thin fabric of the panties you chose today.

“Is your underwear always this slutty?” He asks, his voice lower than you’ve ever heard it. To be fair, you didn’t know this would be happening today.

“Find out tomorrow,” you settle for. It seems to be the appropriate response because he groans and kneads at the flesh gathered at your hip as an appreciative gesture. This won’t be the last time this happens. It can’t be.

There’s rustling behind you. You hear the sound of Carmen’s belt before you feel the cold metal prod at the meat of your posterior, sent forward since he’s not fully tugging the leather material from the loops of his pants. It’s just enough for him to get at his zipper, the noise causing your hands to grip the shelves ahead of you even tighter. Carmen’s thumbnail slides along your skin as he tucks his thumb under your panties to position them to the side. The blunt head of him strokes at your entrance, his opposite hand pushing between your shoulder blades to exacerbate the bend at your hips and the pretty dip in your spine.

“You’re really hard for a man who’s surrounded by this much cold,” you mutter smugly. It’s all your doing, revving up his engine through simply challenging him amid his grizzly attack.

However, the smugness dies on your tongue once Carmen pushes in. He didn’t offer you a smartass response, instead offering you the breach of his length, the swollen head of him prying at your soaked walls up until his hips are flush with yours. Your trembling returns and it’s no longer because of the cool air, but because Carmen begins to thrust the second your cunt gives to him. Wrath fades from your mouth, and a moan replaces it, indicating your lust and enjoyment from this, much to your own dismay.

“M’this hard because I was thinking about how fucking warm you’d be around me,” he grunts, leaning over you and jostling you with his strong movements. His pace isn’t brutal, but the pressure of each of his thrusts is. He pulls back and then buries himself as deep as he could go, the sounds of his effort being in the way his hips collide with the flesh of your ass, a smack every time he hits it just right. And fuck, does he hit it just right. The horrible thing is it’ll stroke his massive ego. The great, amazing, toe-curling thing is that it feels like nirvana. The tip of his cock becomes acquainted with a pivotal point within you that has your vision blurred, unable to make out a single label of the cans and containers in front of your face.

“H-how warm is it?” You manage. Somehow. Conversation isn’t your prerogative while you’re bent over and being receptive, gasping for air every time you attempt to shift your hips back into him and he surpasses another inch inside of you. But you’re curious.

“Like a damn furnace,” he answers quickly, increasing his pace just as fast as the sentence leaves his mouth. “Tighter than I imagined,” he confesses, his forehead pressing into your shoulder. Your feet shuffle apart, legs spreading further for him as you pant and do your best not to whine. You can’t give him that satisfaction.

But it’s no use. His name shoots off your tongue like a prayer, a Freudian slip, his middle finger stroking along your clit in time with his bruising plunges.

“Wet, so, so fucking wet,” he continues, “drenching me and setting me on fire at the same fucking time.”

Fuck, you hope they never open that door.

#l4l.writes #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto x reader #jeremy allen white #the bear fic #the bear #fire in the freezer #l4l.oneshot

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astermath · 10 months

Text

nemesis; part two.

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: with carmen reworking the restaurant, you’d think his mind would be far too occupied to even think about anything else. yet he can’t shake the guilt from what he’d put you through a month prior. after some talks in therapy, he decides to take a leap of faith and see if he can talk it out with you. he not only wants to convince you that he can be better, but he's got an offer for you too. one you truly can't refuse.

♡ landing page ♡

word count: 4.9K

tags: carmen being unsure about his feelings but trying to be better episode 3265742, letting reader in a little more, APOLOGIES!!!, cursing ig, carm goes to therapy yippee, syd being the absolute realest, regular font below!

notes: sorry this took literally forever omg, I lost my carmen muse for a bit but we are SO back baby. I missed him so much and so sorry if some things don't follow the canon completely (I've been watching season 2 on and off bc I've been so busy lol BUT my fics never follow the canon completely anyways),, hope u guys enjoy and let me know if you'd like a part three ;))

lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Carmen’s life hadn’t known a moment of mental rest in ages. If you asked him when he last sat down with his thoughts or acknowledged his mental anguish, he probably would have said he couldn’t remember the last time. If ever.

With plans to completely revamp The Beef and everything that came with it, now his feelings should be the last thing on his mind. Renovation plans, unforeseen costs and a completely new menu, sure, he could worry his ass off about those, but feelings? Absolutely not. Good thing he was usually so good at suppressing those anyways.

So why was it that he couldn’t shake the thought of what he did to you?

Why, every time he had a moment to himself, would he be overtaken by this intense feeling of guilt? He didn’t even have to be alone, just a second of quiet and the image of you crying in distress would intrude on his thoughts.

It was getting to a point where he’d told his sister, Natalie, about it. Well, not all of it, he wasn’t even sure if he knew all of it. Just that he knows he hurt you, and that coming to terms with what he projected onto you might be a good first step in understanding himself better.

Or maybe it was something more along the lines of “I gotta talk my shit to some people”. Probably that.

To his surprise, it was actually helping. Besides the group therapy sessions where he’d talk about Mikey, the business and his future, he was talking to other people in his life too. Even told Sydney about you, kind of on accident. The words just seemed to… Flow out. It was probably the exhaustion doing its thing.

“I guess I just felt like,” he kept his eyes on the floor he was sweeping, “she was doing it all to fuck with me. I don’t even know where I got the sick idea that she had some obsession over me, but it— it drove me at the same time. It’s like her being on my heels at every aspect of culinary school just made me want to try even harder.”

“Maybe you painted her in that light because you knew it was a good way to keep pushing yourself.” Sydney spoke almost absentmindedly, sweeping the other side of the room. She listened to everything he said in the meantime, and though what he was telling her was a bit worrying, she was glad they got to have talks like this. Carmen often doesn’t like to bring up his past like that.

“Huh,” he paused sweeping for a moment, “yeah… yeah, maybe. Or maybe it was something else.”

Sydney wasn’t even sure he knew what he was referring to. It sounded like something entirely different, like a crush, but what kind of person treats their crushes like that?

Probably an overworked, pressured, overachieving culinary student with a dangerous need for validation. But she wasn’t about to tell him that.

“So yeah, I visited her restaurant, and… It just felt the exact same as back in New York, you know? Like she was rubbing it in my face again, and— and I know that sounds insane, or conceited, but I just can’t let it go. It’s like the thought of her is stuck to my brain like a stubborn piece of gum.” He wanted to smack himself for that stupid analogy, but what was said was said.

“So how’d you handle it?” Sydney’s head perked up, some of her braids now draping over her shoulders.

“Handle what?” Carmen became more and more uneasy the more he talked about you. Like his chest was tight, it was uncomfortable, but not in the way he was when the health inspection came by, it was different. Weirder. Unfamiliar. He didn’t like it, because he didn’t understand it.

“The talk with her.” She emptied the last bit of dust into the trash bag.

“Oh,” his mind took him back to the parking lot a month ago. The way he could almost taste the tears of your skin from how close he stood, he could hear the shakiness of your breath and the profound desperation in your voice when you apologized to him, when you really had no reason to.

If it was still so clear in his mind, then what must it be like for you?

“Carmen?” Sydney snapped him out of his oncoming train of thought.

“Yeah? Sorry, I— Uh, I don’t know it was…” He runs a hand through his hair, suddenly finding it in his best interest to look anywhere else but her face. “Bad. It was— It was bad.” He looks a bit shameful when he meets her eyes. “I fucked up. I like, went all New York boss on her. And then I just… Left.”

His colleague just stares at him for a moment. She knew what he was like when he snapped like that, but that was with his staff, people he liked. So how badly did he snap on you, a person he’d been resenting for years?

“I’m gonna go take out this trash, and uh… Head home.” She lifts the grey plastic bag she was holding. “But uh, Carm?”

“Yeah?”

“You got issues, man.” She has a bit of an awkward smile on her face, but he knows she means it. He knows she’s right. She usually is.

He nods, silently, letting her words sink in. He did have issues, everyone knew that, but most people didn’t just say it. That’s why he liked Sydney, she was so real, so honest. She was so good for the business, for the kitchen. And maybe her saying that to him was all part of grounding him in the reality of it all. Of his issues, just that they existed.

“Heard.” he says. His voice comes out raspier than he expected, like he’s struggling to say it.

“Goodnight, chef.”

“Night.”

He’d thought about what Sydney said the entire night. He does have issues, he knows that, he’s just mad at himself for letting everything get this far before seeking help. It scares him. Because it reminds him too much of Mikey. Or what he heard about him when things got bad.

He doesn’t want to make the same mistakes his brother did. Lock people out of his life just because it seems easier, because it’s better to minimize the damage than to figure out why you’re doing damage at all. And yes it’s uncomfortable, yes it’s scary, terrifying even. But he keeps being reminded of how it must feel for you.

It’s something he’d never considered before. He always thought he had you all figured out, all fake smiles and backhanded compliments to distract him. It never occurred to him to just… Ask. It was always just easier to assume. It fit his view of you and it kept him going, even if it was at the expense of ever getting to know you at all.

He’s hoping he can change that with a few text messages and a long, probably uncomfortable, talk over coffee. Just hoping, trying, that’s really all he can do. He’s well aware of how bad he is at communicating, but he has to give it a shot. For you, at least.

He stares at his phone screen for far longer than is necessary, continuously rereading the messages he’d typed. His eyes keep flicking to your contact, making sure he sent it to the right person. The only thing you two had texted about before was a time and place for him to try your new restaurant. His heart aches at the exclamation points and emojis you’d sent; you were so excited, and he drove all that excitement straight into the ground.

He closes his eyes and shuts off the phone. His chest hurts, like he’s been holding his breath the entire time. Maybe he has. You could have that effect on him, making it harder to breathe. He always wondered why he had such nervous reactions around you specifically. He always figured it had to do with your one sided rivalry, but it feels… Different. More complex.

Your eyes are finally peeled off your computer screen when numerous phone notifications alarm you. Truth be told, you’ve been trying your best to keep yourself occupied as much as possible. That usually helps when you get waves of emotions like this, keeping busy, distracting your mind from overthinking.

Ever since your last encounter with Carmen, you’ve been so on edge. Always trying to do something, anything, so you wouldn’t have to think about what happened, why he acted like that to you. Because you know if you did, you’d just start blaming yourself again, and you’d be back to square one.

Your eyebrows raise at the name of the contact. You were sure he’d blocked you, or at least deleted your number after last time. He was avoidant like that, and frankly, you weren’t sure if you wanted him to talk to you again after that anyways. Maybe it was just to drive the point home, make you feel even more worthless.

Still, you were curious. Even if it was just to cuss you out even more, at least you knew what to expect, right?

[carmen]: hey, I really want to talk to you about what happened last time.

[carmen]: well

[carmen]: I want to apologise

[carmen]: but I can’t do that like this

[carmen]: I’d much rather do it in person

[carmen]: if you’d let me

[carmen]: meet me at odette’s tomorrow around 10? coffee’s on me, I just want to talk

[carmen]: please

The last message was sent minutes later than the rest, while you were reading them. He was desperate for an answer, and though you wanted to hear him out, to talk to him, something in you felt off about the whole thing. Like he was just doing this to clear off his own guilt, only to then ditch you just like he ditched you after culinary school. Because you’re rivals, apparently. That’s what you do.

But then there’s something else in you too. The part that’s still nostalgic about New York with him. About the glances back and forth when you were timed on preparing certain things, about the way he’d stare at you when you got feedback, the ignorant bliss you lived in. When you still believed he might have liked you just a little.

That part of you takes the upper hand when you reply and take his offer. Your heart is in your throat, nerves overtaking you already and you weren’t even with him yet. He had that effect on you sometimes, making it harder to breathe.

You wondered what that meant.

Carmen sits alone at a booth, all the way at the back of the café he’d chosen. It’s rather quiet, as most Mondays are, yet at the same time, it’s so loud. Loud in the way he hears the clinking of every spoon against porcelain cups, the crinkling of a napkin and the not so subtle ticking of the clock above the entrance. 10:06. You were late.

Suddenly he's filled with more regret than he's ever felt before. He's not ready to see you again, only to be reminded of how he made you cry, and of his own tumultuous emotions and shortcomings that lead to this moment. It's surprising how fast the emotions he associates with you changed; he's not angry anymore, he's scared, guilty, nervous. He wants to see you so bad and yet he feels like you'd be better off never talking to him again.

It's too late to make a run for it when you finally walk through the door. Hair a little damp from the rain, just a bit disheveled from what he could only assume to be rushing over to the café. And that same angelic smile you offer to the barista that greets you, the same one you'd offer him every morning, whether he looked at you or not.

He had no choice but to look now.

Your smile falters into something more nervous, a little melancholic, when your eyes meet his across the café. Though you knew he was going to be there, something in you feels surprised to see him again. Maybe it’s because he isn’t yelling at you or throwing insults at your head this time. Or maybe because he’s actually looking you in the eye. Since when did he get so good at that?

You sit down across him, taking off your coat and putting your bag besides you.

“Hey.” You smile again, much more awkward this time.

“Hey.” He returns the same thin lipped smile.

It’s quiet for a few seconds. Carmen swears the whole café has gone silent in that moment, leaving the two of you to listen to the sound of your own breathing and heartrate picking up. You’re not sure where to look, not being used to being in such an intimate setting with him.

“Do you want a coffee?”

“Sorry I was late.”

You both talk over each other, and the urge to chuckle about it overtakes you. Carmen can’t help but smile as well. You seem nervous, and somehow that puts him a little more at ease. Like he’s not the only one who’s in their head about it.

“Sorry, I, uhm, yeah— I would like a coffee.” You scramble over your words. “Please.”

“Sure,” he nods, “and no worries.”

“Hm?”

“That you were late. I haven’t been here that long either.” He lied. He’d been there half an hour early, cursing himself for letting him sit along with his thoughts for that long and psyching himself out into almost leaving.

You both order and another heavy silence sits between you two. You both know why you’re there, what needs to be talked about. Yet neither of you know how to bring it up.

You’ve lived most of your lives believing this version of each other you had in your minds. Because it kept you grounded. Because it was easier. He never let you in and for the longest time, you were at peace with that. You could have a slightly distant view of who he was, your classmate, your rival. And he could do the same. Keep you out, pretend you were there to keep him on his toes, to always try to outdo him.

Those facades of each other don’t work anymore. The real world has forced you to reconcile with each other, whether you liked it or not.

Your coffee gets brought to your table, and both of you feel this urgency to say something, anything, at least.

“The pastries here are good too, if you want to get one.” He finally broke the awkward silence. He can start with talking about food, something he knows. If all else fails, resort back to that.

“I haven’t tried a pastry besides my own in a long time. Maybe I could learn a thing or two here.” You admit. He knows that feeling. He’s not nearly as adventurous with his food choices as he wants to be, but as a busy chef on the brink of a new entrepreneurship, it’s usually beef sandwiches and frozen meals.

“I think yours were better though.” He takes a sip of his coffee.

“Huh?” You look up, realizing you were avoiding eye contact by staring into your cup.

“The danish I tried at your place. It was fire.”

“Oh. Right. Thank you, we make everything from scratch.”

“I could tell.” He takes another sip. “I guess I— I kinda forgot to tell you that. In the heat of it all.” He huffs to himself. “Food was so good it made me upset.”

“Upset?” His word use frustrates you. Upset is when they forget to give you your sauce with your order. What happened back there was not upset. That was rage. Wrath. You raise an eyebrow and he realizes he said something wrong.

“Well, more than upset. Listen, I— We need to talk about what happened.” His blue eyes peer into your own. They’re almost distracting enough to avoid you noticing his fidgeting hands.

“I’m listening.” You lean back slightly in your seat. You’d played nice with Carmen all your life, given him every chance to return it. Now it was his turn to try.

"Right." Of course he has to talk. It's his fault, isn't it? He's the one who snapped-- why did he even imply you'd have to explain yourself? He runs a hand through his hair, and there he goes again, eyes darting across the café to find something to focus on as he sought out the right words. You'd almost find it endearing, how bad he is at this, if it wasn't so important to you.

"You don't do this often, do you?"

"What, like-- meeting up for coffee?"

"Talking about stuff. Your feelings and shit." You hid your slightly amused smile behind your coffee cup before taking a small sip.

"Oh. Yeah, no, I-- I don't. Not until recently." He takes a deep breath. Just like they had told him to. “I’ve been going to this therapy thing my sister recommended. S’not much, but… It’s a start. Talked about the restaurant, my brother—“

“Your brother?” Your eyebrows raise slightly.

“Yeah, my— my brother. Mikey.” He looks a bit surprised. He’s come to the shattering realization that he’s never told you anything about his personal life, ever. You don’t even know about one of the most important people in his life, his main drive. You’ve known each other for so long yet you know so little. “I never told you about him?”

“You never told me anything.” You answer curtly. “We never really… Talked, you know?”

“Yeah— yeah, you’re right. I just thought… Wow.” He smiles, more out of shock than anything. He feels so stupid. How immature is it to be feuding this much with a person who doesn’t know anything about you?

“I guess I really don’t know much about you either.” His fingers rake through his messy curls again. “Makes me feel like even more of an idiot for going off on you like that. Like I had you all figured out.”

“Yeah, that was uh... That was something." The mood shifts a little. His smile fades as soon as he sees the melancholy in your eyes return. Of course it wouldn't be that easy for you to forgive him, to feel better about all this. "You know, I never knew you thought of me like that." A small smile graces your features. Somehow it's sadder than the expression you had before.

"I mean, I knew you didn't like me. I was pretty much at peace with the fact that you were never going to like me, either. But I never thought you hated me that much." You sniffle, trying your hardest to blink away any oncoming tears. "Like your life, your entire career, would have been easier without me there at all."

His heart aches at the sight of you, all teary eyed and trying to be brave. You're much braver than him. Sadness is a much harder thing to express than anger. He's starting to figure that out more and more.

"I don't hate you." He starts. He sees the confusion contort your features, and he knows he's not making any sense. "I mean I did-- I did hate you. Or, maybe not you, just... The fucked up idea I had of you. And-- and that was on me, that was my own fault." He feels an urge to touch you; to rub your back, hold your hand, anything to comfort you. It's tearing him apart to know that he's the cause of all this.

"But why?" A single tear rolls down your cheek, leaving a wet streak on your skin in its wake. "Why did you think that about me? I-- I get that we had a little rivalry going but jesus Carmen, did you really think I spent my whole culinary school career trying to outdo you?"

"To be honest... Yeah." He feels ashamed. So ashamed. He hopes the waitress doesn't walk by and listen to any of this, see you crying, and make you feel even worse. "Cooking was always just... My thing. If I was good for anything, it would be that. So seeing you do so well at something I'd started to base my whole existence around, it made me jealous, so fucking jealous." He meets your eyes, even if it's hard. You have to know he's being sincere.

"And it's-- it's unfair, it's so unfair to you, I know, and I'm really fuckin' sorry. I'm trying to work on myself, on everything, and I hope I can prove that to you." His face has that red tint you recognize whenever he's nervous or stressed. You can tell this is taking a lot from him.

"Is that really all? You were just jealous?" Your voice is quieter, fragile almost.

"I don't know. I wanna think it's that simple but I really don't know. There's a lot I don't understand about me, or you, or us. My mind doesn't know how to react when I see you anymore I think, now that things are different." He takes a deep breath, like saying that took a physical toll on him. "You have this-- this weird effect on me, and I don't know how to cope with it. I think it was just easier to be mad at you than to be anything else."

Anger is easier to express than sadness. The easiest out of all emotions, actually. Sometimes a little too easy.

You look to the side, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. You huff out something close to a laugh, and though he’s caught off guard by it, he doesn’t mind it. Even if you’re laughing at him, at least that means you’re not crying.

“You’ve got issues Berzatto. You know that?”

“Yeah. I’ve been told.” He smiles, and it’s heartfelt this time. Not nervous, or sad, or awkward. He’s happy to see you a little more at ease.

“It’s just really crazy to me.” You trace your finger over the edge of your coffee cup as you talk. “I spent so much time in culinary school looking up to you. And then I find out you were always just trying to keep up with me.”

Carmen’s eyebrows raise a little at your words. “Looked up to me?”

“Yeah, like… Your drive, your passion, it’s so impressive. Always looking to improve, to do better, it just— it inspired me to do better too. As cheesy as that may sound.” You smiled. “S’why I opened up in Chicago, you know.”

“Really? Huh.” He leaned back in his seat.

“Because I wanted to work with you. Or for you. Either would have been fine with me.” You sigh. “I like owning my own place, but… I don’t know, for some reason I always imagined us working together.” You smiled. “Is that stupid?”

“No,” he replied quickly, “no not at all, I— I totally get that.” He’s quiet for a few seconds, and you can practically hear the gears turning in his head when he stares at you for a moment.

“I mean you’re a remarkable chef, really, like— insanely remarkable, and, well, we’re revamping the restaurant completely right now. We need people— more people, new people, and so, I was wondering— or I’ve been thinking—“ He stops himself from losing his breath from all his rambling, before he freaks you out even more than he already has.

“I want you to come work for us at the Bear.” He puts his hands together, as if he’s about to beg. “Please.”

You can almost hear yourself blinking out of confusion. There’s suddenly no more loud silences, no, the café seems dead quiet for once. All you can do is stare at him, wait for a laugh, because clearly this was a joke right? There’s no way Carmen Berzatto, chef supreme, arch nemesis of yours, would want you anywhere near him, let alone work in his own establishment.

“I’m sorry?”

He feels stupid already. You had every reason to say no. He’d been the biggest asshole in the world to you, he’d kept his distance all his life, and now he expects you to be his employee. Or, well, colleague, more so.

“I’m uh— we’re redoing the restaurant entirely. New equipment, new staff, new everything.” He swallows; the thought of everything that needed to be done arises for a moment. “We need people that work hard, who know what they’re doing and who are passionate about it. And I barely know anyone who’s better at what you do than yourself.” He pauses, waiting for you to stop him. But you don’t.

“So I’m asking if you’d work for me. With me. It won’t be anything like old days, if anything I— I need to learn from you.” He scoffs at himself. “Could take a thing or two about how to communicate with my staff.”

You smile, and he genuinely thinks you’re about to start laughing at him. You chuckle, but it’s not mean, it’s honest. Cute.

“You know, you have great timing.” You grin.

“I do?” the smile on his face reflects the hope he feels.

“One of my chefs wants to take over the place for me. Well, has been wanting to. I haven’t had an exact reason to say yes to her yet.” You shrugged. “Guess I do now.”

“…Is that you saying yes?”

“It’s definitely not me saying no.” Your eyes meet his, and there’s something between you both that’s different now. It’s not like there’s a switch that’s been flipped. It‘s more like this conversation was the turning page of a new chapter.

“I’ll think about it. I want to see it first. Maybe talk to some of your staff.” Carmen’s chest strains a little when he thinks about you interacting with Richie. Then he’s reassured when he thinks about you interacting with Sydney or Marcus. You’d fit in well, you have great feeling for people.

“Yeah— yeah, I get that. Totally. I can arrange that. Uhm, we’re renovating right now, actually, it’s all really kinda wild, but if you wanna stop by, chat with Syd, or Nat, or talk about the plans, let me know. I’m sure they’d love to talk to you.” He’s not lying, you seem like you’d get along well with them. Especially Sydney. Your thinking processes are very similar to each other. And to his.

Carmen gets the bill, even though you try to pay for it.

“It’s just a coffee, just let me get this one.”

You let him have this one, simply because you can’t argue with him after the conversation you just had. You’re in too good of a mood after his proposition too.

He walks you to your car, hands in his pockets when you reach it. It’s cold outside, and his breath comes out in visible puffs of air. His nose is a little red, but you think it looks cute.

“Thanks for coming, by the way,” he starts, “I know you didn’t have to. Like— after how I acted to you. But— But I really do appreciate that you’re givin' me a chance here.” He’d always been confused about how positive and faithful you were in people. He never thought he’d be grateful for those exact features too.

“No worries, I… I had a good time. I’m glad we talked.” The keys jingle as you fidget with them. Among them is a keychain in the shape of a cherry, he recognizes it. It reminds him of how little you’ve both changed. And how much.

“Yeah.” He sighs. Relieved, almost. “Me too. But I’ll let you leave, might wanna tell your chef the good news.”

“Good news?” You quirk an eyebrow.

“That you’re selling them the business.”

“I haven’t decided yet, Carm.” You scoff. But he can tell you have, you look too excited about it all to not have your mind made up yet. It excites him too. Scares him a bit as well, but what’s a new chapter without a bit of tension?

“Right. Sorry.” He huffs. “Just text me when you wanna head over to see the place. It’s uh… It’s a work in progress, but it’s getting somewhere.”

“I believe you. I’m looking forward to it.” You lean back against your car a little.

“Yeah. Me too.”

“See y’around?” You unlock it and walk up to the driver’s side.

“Course. Uh, don’t be a stranger.”

You grin, leaning down to get into the vehicle. “Never with you, Berzatto.”

He watches you drive off, standing in the cold for far longer than any sensible person has any business standing there. But he feels good. He feels warm.

He thinks about what you said to him before you left. You were right, you were never a stranger to him. You were always like a constant in his life; whether you were actually present or not. And even if he didn’t know that much about you, which he was insistent on changing, you were never a stranger.

Never with him.

tag list <3

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#carmenmath #aster writes the bear #carmen berzatto writing #carmen berzatto x fem!reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto the bear #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto blurb #carmen berzatto x y/n #jeremy allen white imagine #jeremy allen white fic #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto the bear fx

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 8 months

Note

Hello!! Can I request a Carmy X reader fic where either reader takes care of Carmy or vice versa where one of them has a bad day/ a panic attack or something? I have been having like high anxiety this week and need some comfort

Sorry this took a bit, my love. I know that anxiety can be a real bitch, so be as gentle with yourself as possible and know that you are so loved. Hope you're feeling better by now. 🤍✨

To hold you

You two learned to read one another quickly. Maybe it was because of your high levels of anxiety and the need to analyze everything but you had learned one another's patterns fast.

You were the one who shut off after a bad day. There was not a single trace of emotions. Just a static nothing. It didn't come from you trying to be a bitch. You just simply couldn't bring yourself to function. Words were too heavy. Actions were too demanding. Carmen would know. Know the moment you opened the door to your apartment that the day had bled you dry. That you are standing there by a sheer force of inertia. The moment you stop being the moment you crumble.

He walks up to you. Take a bag from your hands. Helping you out of your jacket. Kneeling before you to take off your shoes, "Hold onto my shoulder, love", he would mutter as he reaches for the shoe straps. Leaving a kiss or two on your knees. Then a big hug follows right after. It's Carmy's way of assessing how bad it truly is. If you just stand there without reaching for him, Carmen knows you need a bit of personal space. A long shower for instance. Before you are willing to let him in to comfort you. If you reach for him in any way he knows that all of the plans he had for the evening are on hold from this right moment. You need him the most and so he's not going anywhere.

You feel icky but don't feel like taking a bath. But that's not a problem. Carmen is undressing you slowly. Asking you if it's okay for him to take off every single article of clothing you wear. Then he runs you a warm bath. Doesn't know shit about essential oils so he trusts his chef's smell. Pouring different oils till the smell satisfies him. Dampening the cloth so he could wash you slowly.

"We made cream today. You know the one you like to dip fruits in?", Carmen says, hoping to get your mind to focus on something else, "Though I could make you creme brûlée got lavender as well". This was one of the sweet treats you enjoyed. Carmen made it quite often but when ingredients like lavender came to play it always meant that it had just a tag more love in it. You only hummed at his words.

"I'm tired", those were the first words you mattered to him. And Carmen knows what tired means. What that word holds. It may sound so simple. Something one might just sleep off but not this. Not when the light in your eyes is barely blazing.

"We'll dry you off. Get you seated in the living room", Carmen reaches for a towel, "Nibble on something, mhm? That canned soup you like while shit tonnes of cheese", he's trying to pull all the secret weapons out. All the little things that make you just a bit happier. He pulls his bug grey hoodie over your head, helping you step into one of his boxer shorts. Cupping your face, Carmen brings you closer to carefully pack your lips. It's both a little something for you so you would know that he is here but mostly it's his way of reassuring himself that you are here. That you haven't slipped past his fingers. That he got this. He will make you feel better.

The rest of the evening is just that. Your comfort show playing in the background. Empty soup bowls. Candles and fluffy blankets. Carmen's hand running up and down your bare back and thighs as you take spoons and feed Carmen spoons of that cream that he had made. It's quiet and calm. He's not making you talk but is open to listening to anything that you are willing to say. He's leaving soft kisses on your skin and whispering cute nothings into your ear. Letting you twirl his curls around your fingers until you eventually doze off.

#carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto imagine #the bear imagine #the bear tv show #the bear x reader

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moments-on-film · 5 months

Text

Moments on Film: Carmy’s True Purpose

Hello everyone! I hope you’ve been well. I haven’t posted in a while, life has been hectic, but I wanted come back to share a post I had been working on this Fall. It’s is a follow up post to my series, Carmy doesn’t know who he is yet. I have one more piece to share in this series. In the first piece, I explained how Carmy is not currently in touch with who he is and what actually makes him happy because his original passion, art, has been beaten out of him. So far in his life, Carmen’s done the only thing he thinks he can do, stay in the kitchen. But he’s not living a life and his heart is frozen.

Carmy is abused, traumatized, exhausted, and his heart is simply not in the kitchen anymore, and maybe it never was.

He suffers from severe nightmares, night terrors, and debilitating anxiety, and is sick and it all stems from trauma forged in the fires of the various kitchens of his life. Because of his extreme commitment to being a chef, and a great chef, he has absolutely no personal life, no friends outside of work, no joy, no sense of play or fun or happiness.

There are so many examples of Carmy’s heart not being in the kitchen anymore, from the first episode to the last. Carmy has also never fully exhibited the true characteristics, strengths and skills needed to be a great leader. This is why he always feels off. He’s not great at communicating, he is not in control of his personal triggers, which cause his personal life to impact his professional life, he is not good at any of the backend skills that are required to be the “captain the ship”, such as business acumen, finance, interpersonal skills. This is because being the leader of the restaurant is not his true purpose, it’s literally fixing everyone else up to run it without him and then leaving to go live the life he should living, and not his sad shell of an existence. He does have a very important leadership skill needed to do this: seeing beauty, seeing the best in others, and seeing other people’s strengths before they can see it in themselves. Let me explain. How Carmy’s skill will lead him to his ultimate purpose.

In season 1

When Carmy meets Sydney, he quickly assesses her skill and potential, and almost instantly relinquishes his power as the leader of the restaurant and bestows it on her, he says he will “dial business” and tells her, “you are everything else.” Ironically, he doesn’t even “dial business”, in S2, by calling the fridge guy, leading to his own downfall.

Carmy literally says “I can’t do this” in his nightmare in 1x8.

In the Al-Anon monologue in 1x8, Carmy states his purpose, maybe to “fix the whole family” by fixing the restaurant. This doesn’t mean his family by blood. As he tells Natalie in 2x9, “family is also not an exact science.” He’s talking subconsciously about his chosen family of Sydney, Richie, Tina, Marcus, Fak. And isn’t that what Carmy spent the majority of S2 actually doing? Knowing what each person on his team needs in order to be “fixed”, pushed to dig deep, make the most of their strengths, passions and gifts and achieve their ultimate potential.

A major major revelation for me that Carmy wants out and that he has no problem handing over the reigns to his capable team took place in the finale of S1. Sydney, not Carmy, brings Michael’s spaghetti to the table.

Gif source: @chefkids

This really stood out to me when I first saw it. I immediately thought, why isn’t he doing this? Michael gave him the recipe, it was the last thing he ever gave him, and he cooked it. It should have been Carmy. It really should have. Just like it should have been Carmy that created a dish named in honor of his brother. He didn’t. It is Marcus that has the honor. Again, the first time I heard Marcus say “the Michael”, when Carmy asked what the cannoli was called, I teared up and then said out loud, “that should have been you.”

In 2x1, Carmy tells Richie, “this shits not fun for me”, and tells Sydney “F stars”, and “we’re trapped” (if we get one). Look at his eyes in the gif below. He knows what it will mean and he doesn’t want to do it anymore.

When Carmy sees Claire in the freezer aisle of Potash Grocery store, he openly tells her he told Mrs. Kelly’s son “don’t do it” when he was asked advice on becoming a chef. Then he gets reflective and says, “I should really listen to myself.”

I discussed in a prior piece how “just keep going” has been Carmy’s mantra his entire life. It’s been his survival technique because it has had to be. He’s exhausted, traumatized, sick, in pain and desperately in need of a reset. In my opinion, in S2, he’s looking for any excuse to subconsciously jump ship, not be the captain of it, which is why he let himself get distracted with Claire.

For much of S2, Carmy is actually giving pieces of himself in the restaurant away. He gives Tina his knife, which is so sweet but it’s also a little jarring. He gives Marcus a “spot” in Copenhagen to train. Tina and Ebrahim get sent to culinary school. Richie gets sent to stage at Ever, a 3 Star Michelin restaurant. Natalie is the COO and has taken over the office. It’s no longer his, it belongs to Natalie. He is setting everyone else up to take over. Sydney is the CDC. He tells her, “it’s your ship now, Captain”, and she opens the doors, not Carmy, when it’s time to open. Carmy can’t do paperwork, or manage the business end of the restaurant, but he also isn’t contributing by innovating and being a consistent leader.

In the kitchen, two hours before the soft open, Carmy is finally “there”. He’s barking orders, catching everything he’s missed, but he is completely going through the motions. His commands are joyless. Sydney, Tina, and the crew say “yes Chef”, but there’s none of the teamwork, camaraderie, and dare I say, fun, as when Richie is running the pass and expoing with his whole heart when Carmy’s trapped in the freezer.

When Uncle Jimmy asks Carmy, “do you want to be the guy? Then be the f-ing guy”, you can see Carmy glaze over. No. Carmy doesn’t want to be the guy. Not the guy in the restaurant. Not anymore.

Even Carmy’s new monogrammed chef coat is another example of how Carmy is disappearing and fading away. His former coat had dark blue initials in an elegant cursive font. His new coat has his initials in plain font, in white stitching, barely visible, unless you look for it hard.

In the end, Carmy is locked out and left behind in his own restaurant because subconsciously he doesn’t want to be there.

I have written about this in various posts, but I truly believe Carmy’s character arc is to get back to his original passion, which is art. Michael knows this is a gift of his, and thanks to the menu sketches he drew for the new most important person in his life, now so does Sydney.

Michael’s final note to Carmen was the recipe for spaghetti for him to fix for family meal, the words, “I love you dude”, and “Let it rip.” But what if Michael was really saying find the money, take it and everything you’ve learned and FIX the family to go on with the restaurant without you (something Mikey was never able to do while he was alive) and then once you’ve done that, “Let it RIP”, as in Rest In Peace. Leave. Get out. Don’t be scared. Go for it. And discover the life you’re truly meant to be living.

©️moments-on-film 2023

#the bear #the bear fx #the bear season 2 #the bear hulu #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #sydney adamu #carmy x sydney #my thoughts

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atrwriting · 9 months

Text

the bee, the bird, the bear -- uncle!carmy x babysitter!you

as always, warnings: major character death, past child neglect and abuse situations, swearing, tooth-rotting fluff, and eventual smut

two

mallory always woke up to the sound of carmen’s alarm.

it made him uneasy — thinking about how light of a sleeper a four year old was. he would stumble out of his room, hair standing up in each direction, pajama bottoms hanging low on his hips and white shirt right across his chest — while she would lightly pad out from her room with equally messy hair, but clutching her blanket and stuffed animals. her big, brown eyes would connect with carmy’s — and he didn’t know how to place that look. he didn’t know what she wanted, what she didn’t expect… but for whatever reason… he knew she didn’t like being alone.

“only birds are up this early,” he yawned, shuffling into the kitchen with her trailing behind him.

today, mallory was dressed in princess pajamas, clutching a blanket and a teddy bear. he didn’t recognize either of those items — probably new and from target yesterday. the girl didn’t respond as she climbed onto the barstool of the breakfast bar.

“you pick those out at the store?” he asked, pulling out two bowls.

the girl nodded, clutching her bear tighter. carmen was used to kids who were full of energy, an annoying amount of energy — he didn’t really understand what to do or say next. it’s not like he was versed in the ways of young kids. he chewed on the inside of his cheek as he pondered his options.

“frosted flakes?” he asked, poking through the cabinet. he usually kept frosted flakes, as they were his own personal favorite — but then he spotted another box. lucky charms. he snorted at the sight, probably thanks to you. “or… lucky charms?”

“lucky charms,” mallory whispered, a smile in her voice.

that carmy could do. carmy could make food.

it took barely any time, unfortunately, but it made him feel better to know she was excited about something and would eat something. he could work with that.

“(y/n) will be here soon,” carmy said in between bites. “do you know what… disney… demand is?”

as she chewed on her cereal, she scrunched her eyes up at carmy. she didn’t answer, but the look on her face suggested that she didn’t know what he was talking about.

“the movie… thing,” he attempted to ramble, waving his hand in the air, trying to catch himself from swearing. “with the… um, princess movies.”

her eyes widened then. with her mouth full, she asked, “disney plus?!”

he nodded then, chewing his own food. “yeah, yeah — that thing. i don’t know how to get it, or set it up, but, uh… (y/n) said she’d do it for you today.”

the girl smiled then, and clutched her bear tighter. she didn’t respond, but her look of excitement was enough to make carmy feel content.

“did you name it?” he asked, gesturing to the stuffed animal.

“bear,” she immediately responded, eyes on her cereal.

carmy almost snorted at that.

“what?” she asked, sounding almost offended. how the fuck could a four year old sound offended? “it’s a bear.”

“no, no-“ carmy sputtered, trying to keep from speaking while chewing his food and upsetting his niece. “my, um — people call me bear. that’s my nickname.”

“oh,” she immediately said, scrunching her eyebrows together once more. “is (y/n) mrs. bear?”

“what?” he choked on his frosted flakes. his eyes were wild and wide as he stared down at her, hoping to reason with her and keep her from mentioning anything like that to you. “no-no-“

“she’s pretty,” his niece settled, going back to her food.

carmy knew kids said whack shit like that sometimes, but where the fuck did that come from? he didn’t know what to do, so he changed the subject. “do you have a nickname?”

she nodded. “kid.”

“kid?” carmy asked as a question before he could think twice.

she nodded again, seemingly unbothered. “my mom’s friends would say, ‘kid, go upstairs,’ while they hung out downstairs. downstairs smelled funny, so i wanted to go upstairs.”

carmen was almost at a loss for words at that. he changed the subject again. “do you want a new nickname?”

she stopped for a second, and then shrugged. “it would have to fit. like kid.”

“what about…” he trailed off, looking for anything to salvage the normalcy of the situation. “…bird?”

“bird!?” she yelled excitedly, laughing. “i’m not a bird!”

“you wake up early like one,” carmen replied, finishing his cereal.

“you wake up early, too,” she fired back, smiling. “does that make you a bird?”

“i’m the bear, remember?”

she smiled softly, nodding. “i’m bird, and you’re bear.”

you had arrived not too long after that, knowing carmy had to be at work soon. mallory had found her way onto the couch, cuddled up with her bear and blanket you had bought the day prior.

“she’s up early,” you whispered to carmy.

he nodded. “she said some funny shit earlier.”

you scrunched your eyebrows at him, waiting for him to go on.

“her mom’s place…” he trailed off, shaking his head. carmy was throwing on his coat and shoving things in his pockets as he contemplated the memory. “i know what it was, but… sounded weird.”

you pursed your lips, not really knowing what to say.

carmy didn’t look at you then, just folded his lips underneath his teeth and shook his head. he bid you goodbye, to which you returned the farewell, and went back into the living room to check in on mallory.

there, she poked her head up when she heard you come into the room.

“i’m bird,” she simply said.

you raised your eyebrows as a smile crept on your face. “h-hi, bird. sleep well?”

she nodded before falling back down onto the pillow, snuggling further into her blanket and stuffed animal. you sighed and sat down at the television, picking up the remote to set up the disney plus account.

you spotted the two empty bowls of cereal in the sink as you walked in, and smiled to yourself. hopefully one of those were hers from this morning, and she had been the one to empty it.

——————

“i like tianna,” mallory announced, flipping through the movie selection. “let’s watch it again.”

you laughed, nodding. “are we having a movie day today? or do you want to get out and do something?”

that puzzled her for a second. “like what?”

you shrugged. “there’s a tulip festival going on right now. we could bring flowers to your aunt sugar, and we could bring some to your uncle’s restaurant.”

“what are we going to call sugar’s baby?” mallory asked. “cub? like bear cub?”

you giggled. “that’s cute, mallory, sure. you could ask your aunt.”

“i’m bird,” she insisted.

“i’m sorry,” you laughed. “that’s cute, bird.”

she smiled triumphantly. “i want to see the flowers. can we go now?”

“sure, bird,” you replied, pulling out your phone to send carmy a quick text. “want to get changed first? i think we bought you a flower shirt yesterday. want to wear that?”

“yes!” she giggled excitedly, jumping up from her spot on the couch and running to her bedroom.

you: hey, can i take her to the tulip festival?

carmy: sure. stop by the restaurant after for lunch.

bird had adorned her new floral top and pink jeans. a slight blush rose to her cheeks as her smile grew over her entire face.

“want me to do your hair?” you asked, fishing around for a brush and hair accessories in her drawers.

“can you do it like tianna!?” she asked.

“i don’t have a tiara at the moment…” you giggled. “but what if i did a bun?”

she looked sad at that.

“maybe we could get a tiara soon?” you offered. “but today we do a bun? two buns?”

“two buns?” she asked, taken aback.

you chuckled before ushering her to stand in front of the bathroom mirror. you lightly brushed out her hair, and sectioned it down the middle. you pulled either side on top of her head, and tied off the buns.

“i call them space buns,” you said, touching up her hair.

she smiled. “i like them!”

you giggled. “come on, bird.”

the tulip festival was a lot quieter today, and you were thankful. there weren’t any weird people walking around — just small business floral shops trying to make the street beautiful. with bird being so cute and friendly, most people had offered her free flowers. she took them, smiled at the shop owners, and thanked them.

“so pretty,” bird giggled, clutching the stems in her hands.

you could cry at how much happiness seemed to be flowing through the little girl at that moment. nothing could wash away what the girl had most likely been through before she had come into carmy’s life — but you could do your best.

“wanna show carmy?” you asked, wiggling your eyebrows.

“bear!” was all she screamed, a smile spreading across her face.

you took that as a yes.

the shop was only open for dinner that day, so you weren’t worried about distrusting too much of the restaurant happenings of the day. when you and bird walked in, sugar was there to greet you both.

“is that my favorite little girl?” sugar asked with excitement. “those are such pretty flowers!”

bird took half of the flowers and handed them to sugar. “for you and cub!”

sugar gently took the flowers from her niece and smiled widely. “thank you, sweetie. oh my god, these are beautiful… but, um — who’s cub? pete?”

“no!” bird laughed, and then pointed to her stomach.

sugar’s awestruck eyes followed where her niece’s fingers were pointing on her stomach, and sugar threw her head back in laughter. sugar laid a soft hand in her stomach, the other holding the flowers, as she spoke. “that’s a perfect name. thank you for the flowers, sweetheart.”

“i’m bird,” was all she responded, smiling.

“bird?” sugar repeated as a question, eyes blinking with a smile.

“yeah!” bird replied, before walking away.

you giggled before trailing after her. over your shoulder, you called, “i think carmy named her.”

you followed bird into the kitchen where carmy’s office was tucked into on the side. there were a few people in the kitchen, but they hadn’t noticed you guys yet, and carmen wasn’t with them. you found the exhausted, curly headed man perched over his log book, twirling a pencil.

“bear!” squealed the little girl, shoving her flowers in his face.

“woah-woah—“ he was caught off guard, but recovered quickly when he realized who it was and what she was holding. “did you just pick these?”

“yeah!”

“they’re beautiful,” carmy stated. “did you have fun?”

bird nodded. “we watched princess and the frog before.”

“three times,” you piped up from behind bird.

carmy laughed, throwing a quick glance your way as he smiled. you returned the smile, not expecting the happy look on his face in reference to you. he turned back to his niece, and asked, “are you hungry?”

carmy had done what he does best — make really great food.

carmy had recreated one of syd’s dishes — cola braised ribs with risotto. when bird had seen the plate before her, her eyes went wide. her smile was big, and excited, and she forgot her manners when she immediately dug into her food.

you were thankful it only took her a few days to become comfortable enough to eat — you weren’t sure what you would’ve done, but you tried not to think about it.

“fuck…” carmy gasped from across the room, glancing down at his phone. he had pressed a firm hand across his mouth, fingers dragging along the stubbled skin. he froze in place as his crystal blue eyes couldn’t believe what they saw.

“you good?” you asked, refraining from eating now that you knew something was bothering carmy.

“i was supposed to register her for group meetings with the therapist,” he stated. “cps will show up if i don’t get my shit together.”

“they just dropped her off,” you shrugged, walking towards him. “can you do it now?”

you would’ve offered to do it for him, but that felt a little more personal than just calling around for referrals. plus, she was carmy’s kid — not yours. you didn’t want to overstep.

“i just feel like there’s a million things i’m forgetting all of the time,” he sighed, speaking quietly. “she’s not a restaurant — she’s a living, breathing thing, and i-i don’t want to fuck her up — shit, i don’t want to mess things up for her.”

you swallowed thickly, crossing your arms over your chest. carmy was speaking so low that bird wasn’t listening — she hadn’t even looked up from her food as all of her attention was on it, thankfully. in a quiet voice, you spoke, “this might not mean much, but… you’re a lot better than what she had, i think. it’s only been a few days, too. you’ll get there, carm.”

he nodded, folding his bottom lip underneath his top as he clutched his phone in his hand. his eyes appeared to stare into nothing as they were framed right over her head. tina had come over to speak with her, now, bringing her attention elsewhere, leaving carmen with more room to fade into his own self-doubt.

“i know it’s only been a few days…” he muttered, shaking his head slightly and licking his bottom lip. “but i just… i didn’t expect this. i wasn’t prepared for this.”

your vision went red. “cut the shit,” you snapped.

he turned towards you immediately with electric, blue eyes that were stunned beyond belief. that snapped him out of his self doubt. you had swore, and frankly insulted your boss — but you didn’t care.

“no one was more underprepared than her, carm,” you stated.

he stared at you then. he no longer appeared caught off guard — but as though realization had hit him like a ton of bricks.

“you’re right,” he agreed, now nodding his head. his hands were now placed on his hips, lip still folded underneath, eye-bags still embedded deep — but now there was at least inspiration. carmen was motivated.

you smiled at him then, and gave him a reassuring nod.

the last thing that little girl needed was carmen berzatto getting cold feet.

---

lmk what u guys think :) I'm sorry its slow BUT JUST WAIT I PROMISE

#carmy berzatto #carmy #carmen #carmen berzatto #carmy smut #carmy fic #the bear #Sydney #michael berzatto #sugar #natalie berzatto #carmy imagine #carmy angst #carmy fluff

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nyikondlovu · 11 months

Text

Chefs Kiss (Sydcarmy) fans stay with me, Chefs!

I’m not taking anything Ayo, Jeremy and Christopher say against sydcarmy, aka Chefs Kiss, seriously.

They purposefully kept Carmen and Sydney as separate as possible this season, which is a big mistake in my opinion.

The show is about the characters and their relationships with each other. Food is a part of it, but it’s mostly the relationship each character has with one another that makes the show.

The writers trying to dispel the rumours by keeping what I would call our male and female leads apart is nuts because Jeremy and Ayo play so well off of each other but by separating them Jeremy gave his weakest acting (which is still very good) during Carmy/Claire scenes?

They keep saying The Bear doesn’t need romance then give Carmen a whole relationship that was so boring to watch for like 7 episodes and felt like watching paint dry because Claire isn’t engaging.

I’m expected to care about her, what she supposedly means to Carmen and hear about how great she is but don’t get to see it? She’s an ER resident for gods sake and she’s running around town giggling every 5 minutes without a semblance of the hard work and exhaustion that comes with being a doctor.

And for the reason stated above, I believe she’s a manic pixie dream girl. She’s there to change Carmen’s view on life, be different and quirky and the one who got away when in reality Carmy forgot who she was and had to be reminded which took him a whole 5 seconds to remember the supposed love of his life, purposefully gives her the wrong number and she says “You’re the Bear, of course I remember.”

No one was gonna take her seriously as the person to keep up with Carmy and help keep him sane.

Meanwhile Sydney does. She anchors him, she keeps up with him and she calls him out on his shit. Sydney isn’t perfect. She’s terrible at stating what she needs at that moment, she slightly short tempered and she is passive aggressive.

She also is working on her impatience and passive aggression. She eventually tells Carmy she needs his attention as her partner. She speaks up for herself to her dad and she’s not letting her ambition be treated like a bad thing anymore.

Carmen and Sydney would make sense because they are flawed. Carmy stops going to group therapy as soon as he starts dating Claire because she’s ‘fixed’ him and they don’t work because of that.

Sydney has ‘levelled up’ in her professional life, she’s more assertive and willing to listen and has just grown as a person and that type of continuous strive for self growth is what Carmen needs to see in order to do the same HIMSELF.

Sydney isn’t there to fix Carmy, she’s someone who he can grow alongside.

Claire was used as a kids bandaid to a gaping wound; the wound being Michael. Claire represents a life where Mikey was alive and Carm’s fucked up family was as whole and happy as it’s gonna be. She represents the past and everyone PUSHED him to want to date her in the past.

There is too much between our two chefs for simply business partners:

S1 shows Carmen scrubbing the floor of the restaurant when in turmoil while Sydney does the same in S2;

She’s spliced into the montage of Carmy and Claire as though she’s a silent part of their relationship;

She has the three dagger heart tattoo which typically represents romantic heartbreak and turbulence;

Carmen remembers her interest in his whites from three months prior even though she didn’t say anything and gets her her own custom whites;

The imagery from their conversation under the table? Him asking her to screw the other side and “say more, please” as he holds up the table (and Sydney) while she finally shares her fears;

“You’re not alone.” “Neither are you.”;

The memories of Sydney being what calms him from his panic attack;

During said panic attack, the song that was Claire and Carmen’s plays in reverse and any flashes of her are accompanied by memories of his dysfunctional family while the moment he thinks of Sydney? The song starts playing correctly. He calms and flashes of his family (and Claire) disappear;

Them constantly cooling an argument with the ‘I’m sorry’ gesture;

Him constantly being in tune with her emotions and body language.

Sydney represents a new beginning. The chance to build a healthy family with the staff of The Bear, Sydney, Natalie and Richie. She represents a future. She represents good change.

I’m fully convinced Ayo and Jeremy are just doing what all actors do with a ship that’s not yet canon: downplaying or dismissing it.

C’mon if you’ve been in The High School Musical The Musical The Series fandom and shipped Rina from the beginning, you know how it feels to be persecuted and gaslit by other fans and the actors for seasons.

TL:DR, Chefs Kiss is literally a super slow burn and no one of the team will confirm it until it actually happens.

Also, never let your girlfriend (Claire) stop you (Carmen) from opening a restaurant with the love of your life (Sydney)

And if you think they should “stay platonic”, ask yourself WHY every swirl ship with a white male lead and black female is hated by fandoms and the argument is “they’re best friends” or “they’re like siblings”. WHY can’t black women be desired? Because you can’t self insert? Check yourself before claiming a character who was so underwhelming I skipped so many scenes is a better match than the character who has seen him at his worst and told him he cannot and will not talk to her like that. The first person he thought to open a restaurant, that means so much to him, with

#sydney x carmy #syd x carmy #carmen x sydney #sydney adamu #carmen berzatto #the bear #claire the bear #the bear s2 #the bear fx #the bear hulu #chefs kiss #I’ve seen this film before #I never lose with my ships #trust me #y’all platonic bitches so transparent you might as well be a window #the category is: hating when black women are in the spotlight #fandom racism #different fandom same shit

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balis77 · 1 month

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Limbus Theory Time Part 2 (The Don One)

Ok so, lot of people have been speculating on how Don is absolutely going to be emotionally destroyed next Canto. Distortion seeming like, the bare minimum of the shit she's in for. However, allow me to propose a different idea.

Don already Distorted before

So, part of what made me come up with this theory was looking at the observation log for Distorted!Heathcliff, which is actually written by Don. Now, despite the fact Heathcliff and Don actually have an odd friendship going on, she takes it... surprisingly well. Like, way too well.

Like, she seems to consider it the same way she considered beating up Sinclair back in Canto III. Which she even said was what her "friends" used to do to her whenever she acted up. Now I think me and a lot of people took this in a abuse direction... but what if that's not what it was? What if she knows about beating someone down to reverse a distortion because she herself already had that happen to her?

Don has an interesting relationship with Distortions whenever they come up. She doesn't really comment on it against Kromer or during Hell's Chicken... but guess who's the first person to speak up the first time the Sinners actively see someone talking to Carmen?

She immediately recognizes it as a distortion. Not only that, but she actually drops her normal speaking pattern. But that's not the only weird connection to Distortions that Don has... check out this line from the conversation during the mini-episode between To Claim Their Bones and Canto VI

Not only was she asking for the name of whoever wrote the report on distortions, but she specifically recognizes Moses' name. The Distortion Detective. Someone who's entire job is reversing distortions. And yet again, she kinda drops her usual speaking pattern when it comes up.

Don definitely knows more about Distortions than the average Sinner, has some history with Moses that she can't quite remember, and immediately recognizes someone talking with Carmen. Add on a history of being beaten down by "old friends" for acting up, which is the same attitude she applies to a distorted Heathcliff...

I think Don distorted before in the past. Hell, possibly even multiple times. Maybe she doesn't remember it entirely (Heathcliff himself is a little confused at what happened after he undistorts) but I think it definitely happened. Either her worldview has been broken before... or she created that worldview because she was broken before. Maybe her "Impossible Dream" is what guided her out of the distortion.

Now, if this means she'll distort again or reject it and manifest like a fluorescent ego for a while, I don't know. But I do think that if she does end up in a state where she hears Carmen, it won't be the first time she's had a conversation with her.

#honestly I'm a 'Don rejects the distortion' believer #I think she can do it #but yeah I don't think she's as sheltered and about to get broken as people seem to think #also be interesting if she has some connection to moses because it might mean we catch up with the distortion detective crew next canto #or possibly before that #we do have two murder mystery events coming up...#Limbus Company #canto VI spoilers #Don Quixote LCB

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luciftixs · 11 months

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the yi sangela post

I’m having autistic zoomies right now

I want to talk about Yi Sang and Angela because I like them both A Lot and I just think it’s fun to do comparisons. My partner made this lovely checklist with a few similarities I jotted down in a notesapp on my phone before I passed out and I will be cooking a meal thats geared solely to me but ur welcome to try and eat it if u want

Let’s get into it. There is no structure here but maybe we will find it as we go along!

I wanna start w a disclaimer that this is FOR FUN its not actually that serious and ALSO its obviously not a 1-to-1 comparison because these two are also so starkly different in not only their circumstances but also their overall personality when it comes to having deal with said Issues. I feel like tumblr users are more chill these days but after some shit ive seen on projmoon twitter I am covering my bases this is just a Post by a Stranger Online LOL

Let’s take a look at our first point on this silly little chart. That point is:

Bird

Angela’s black dress heavily resembles the feathers of a bird; specifically that of a corvid like a raven or even crow.

Even her head librarian outfit has some bird motifs to it. I’m going to get into corvid symbolism in a second but first

Yi Sang also leans heavily into the bird motifs. His base EGO is named Crow’s Eye View after a poem by the RL Yi Sang, and the narrative draws some inspo from the short story The Wings by the same author.

Wings show up often in some of his EGOS and CGs

Now, it’s not simply generic birds either of them are inspired by; Angela’s black feathers, Yi Sang’s EGO title, they are specifically invoking corvids. Corvidae include many different species of birds, such as magpies and jays, but the most commonly thought of corvids would be the ones with black feathers; ravens and crows. Corvids are incredibly intelligent birds, and they are rich in symbolism and meaning.

Specifically, crows have a heavy association with death and the afterlife. Both Angela and Yi Sang are impacted by heavy losses; Angela is made from a woman who took her own life and is forced to oversee countless loops of people suffering and dying; Yi Sang witnessed his friends being driven apart in a violent manner. His two childhood friends die before him, he wishes he could kill himself and die, and is trapped in a purgatory state with his current coworkers where bloodshed is as common as breathing. Death has marked both of them.

But! That is not the only thing corvids symbolize! In more modern times the birds are said to also symbolize transformation. In a way, that ties into death, as what is death if not the final transformation in life? But neither of their final growths end in their deaths; rather, both learn to find a way to free themselves from the shackles of their past, and to push forward.

THEN WE HAVE

Book as weapon

This one is just silly.

*beats you to death with a book beats you to death with a book beats you to death with a book*

Next point

Narrative haunted by a female figure

This one is in that “not a one-to-one comparison” territory, but it’s still just fun to poke at imo. In Angela’s case, she can never truly escape Carmen’s influence over her. For Yi Sang, Dongbaek is a ghost from his past. Both these women are integral to the overall narrative at hand.

Not only do these women haunt the narrative, but they also mirror the person they haunt. Angela’s desire for life is so strong because, in the end, Carmen wished to live. Dongbaek admired Yi Sang and his dream of flying. She yearned to bloom in a way not dissimilar to a bird spreading it’s wings for the first time. Angela’s Lobcorp design invokes Carmen- her hair color is Carmen’s inverted. She wears the hair time Carmen wore. Dongbaek’s hair has become white from the trauma- the inverse of Yi Sang’s black hair. Yi Sang takes up a Dongbaek identity in a mirror world to further drive home the similarities. These women play a major role in the overall identity of these two characters.

And this is just my brain going “hehe neat” but Carmen’s whole like. Brain stem mimicking a tree and its roots. Dongbaek becoming flowers. Visually very similar vibes.

Onto the next point

Loomed over and controlled by a male figure

This one probably seems second most self explanatory. Ayin meet Gubo Gubo meet Ayin ect.

The deal is simple: you do what we want you to do, and we have employed dubious methods to ensure that you do what we want you to do! Both Ayin and Gubo are self serving when it comes to the end goals. The levels of agency at play here are different; Angela truly had no choice, but Yi Sang’s mental state is not Great and that is being capitalized on him to help perpetuate his isolation and dependency.

Another thing: Ayin and Gubo are just really fucking mean to Angela and Yi Sang. Ayin actively dehumanizes her and neglects her; Gubo verbally and mentally abuses Yi Sang. Fun stuff.

Now, the penultimate point:

Yearning for freedom

This naturally comes with the territory of being a bird. Angela longs to not be confined to a place (Lobcorp or the Library). She wants to experience the world and be free. Yi Sang is similar; that desire to spread his wings and fly. For both to accomplish this, they have a talk with the ‘self’. It’s only by confronting their pasts, and themselves, that they can finally get that push to live life on their own terms.

MY FINAL TALKING POINT

SEXY

Like wow hot a what? And yes I chose fourth match flame because it ties into the whole post like they’re sharing an EGO that’s basically having your hopes burnt to a cinder and also an intense longing for a better life whoa thats crazy

Concluding thoughts

I just like them both a lot. My little caged birds getting out of the cage and mending their broken wings in order to take flight. Very kino. I love them.

If u actually read this thanks ur pog

#project moon #library of ruina #limbus company #not spoiler free #yi sang #angela #long post #perhaps they should... no i shant say it

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darkmasterofcupcakes · 3 months

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Considering Adam's music theme and that the Exorcists are clearly involved in his shit, I'm pretty sure there's a lot of years where they had a musical theme for clothing.

So for example, one year, they were clothed like Carmen and they killed demons while having the Habanera resonate throughout the pride ring.

Also, sabaton definitely is one of their favorite groups, there's no way that the year "firestorm" was dropped they didn't themed it after it.

https://youtu.be/Q149AALuHw0?si=lMLOpq752yeglHf4

With that in mind, Vaggie probably loved fighting/training with rock as background music.

Vaggie inheriting nothing from adam except his musical tastes sound fun, and I can imagine her forcing herself to sit still when there's such music because despite her trauma, she still love the music.

Actually, how did Vaggie's first mission went? And in your AU, did she ever killed an Overlord?

Also, what was Lute's reaction when Vaggie was named by Adam as one of his "top girls"? Did Vaggie see the reaction?

That would make sense.

And, yeah, the idea that the main thing Vaggie really inherited from Adam was musical tastes, and she would eventually grow to kinda hate the fact that she still loves that kind of music because obviously she'd associate it with him, and while her feelings towards her mother are...complicated as of the present, her feelings towards her (almost definite but not confirmed father) boss are a little more clean cut negative. But she does she secretly love rock music and definitely listens to it when she trains alone.

Her first mission went very well - she wasn't the Exorcist who took out the most Sinners that year, but she was in the top 10 and was the youngest among those top rankers by a pretty wide margin, so her performance was definitely something that Adam, as the leader of the Exorcists, had to take notice of and point out after they'd all returned back to Heaven.

As for the Overlord question...she likely has killed at least one. Maybe not one of the most powerful, but still an Overlord.

And Lute was definitely proud to hear Adam name Vaggie was one of his "top girls". Why wouldn't she be proud of her daughter, especially when she knows that a lot of Vaggie's skills and techniques came from her watching and imitating Lute when she trained as she was growing up? She didn't have a huge reaction to it, since she likes to try to keep a professional attitude around the other Exorcists, but she did show Vaggie a bit more personal attention and affection when they got home and were alone.

#Hazbin Hotel #Adam #Vaggie #Lute #Hazbin Adam #Hazbin Vaggie #Hazbin Lute #Guitarspear #Vaggie is a Guitarspear Baby AU #VGS #Cradle will Fall

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thecapricunt1616 · 3 months

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The Bear & His Honey Chapter 6

Inspo: Lyrics - "Willow" (TS) "I'm begging for you to take my hand, wreck my plans." Summary: (18+ ONLY FIC NO MINORS BEYOND THIS POINT) Winnie & Carmy have a late night phone conversation, Winnie contemplates her new situation with her closest friend, Winnie attends family night, Impresses Richies daughter with some Disney Princess behavior, Winnie admits she's learned more about Carmen then she's let on, Carmen and Winnie plan a night in together. W/C: 11K+ Posted: 02/16/24 A/N: Helloooo!!! It's here!! It's here!! Our first long juicy chapter!! I have realized with the pacing I've set, that the first of the smutty smut will happen *the next* chapter, sorry for the lead-on :( - but I promise it will be sooooo filthy and delish since I've made you wait for so long!!! Warnings for BTC: Heavy kissing, Swearing, Some fluff, some angst, thats pretty much it- smoking cigarettes? I guess.. and social drinking.

➜°✶ 🎀 𝒞𝒽𝑒𝒸𝓀 ♡𝓊𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉❣ 🎀 ✶°

➜ 𝓒𝓪𝓽𝓬𝓱 𝓾𝓹 𝓸𝓷 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓕𝓲𝓿𝓮

✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀

Carm’s P.O.V -

As soon as she left I leaned against the door for a moment, rubbing my face and sighing deeply.

What the fuck has been going on with me the last couple of days. What is my fucking fixation with her?

I grab the tray of dishes and open the door, looking at the time “Hey - you know your new toy thinks I’m a fuckin’ Berzatto” Richie laughs and I roll my eyes. “Very fuckin’ funny” I put the dishes in the sink. “I’ll be sure to fuckin’ straighten that shit out with her asap” I sigh deeply, looking over the kitchen and observing where everyone was in their prep for dinner.

“Chef” Syd says and I look over to her “Yo’ what's goin’ on” I clear my throat, hoping she’d forgotten about earlier. “I um- I just wanted to say sorry, ya know for - interrupting, whatever that-” I shake my head. “Nope, all good, all good. My fault I uh- sorry. It’s my bad, it won't happen again, work is more important.” she nods.

“I was coming to um tell you - When I - anyway I was looking over the liquor order for tomorrow and I realized we really underordered, and I can't figure out where the math went wrong, and- “

“Syd” I sigh deeply, rubbing my chin. “Don’t worry, ok?” I said and took the clipboard from her. “Just go, go take a break- ok?” I said and she nodded slowly. “Are you… feeling alright?” she asked and I looked at her. “What?” I asked. “I don’t think you’ve ever asked me to take a break, I don’t think you’ve asked anyone to take a break. “ I shrugged.

“Dunno, I just took one, a long break, maybe I’m fuckin refreshed. Go chef, go eat.” I said and made my way down the line. “Jeff” Tina said and smiled at me. “Yes, chef?” I raise my eyebrow. “So you’re not gonna mention the cute little thing that's pokin’ around here past 2 days? Who’s that you finally over your other girlfriend?” she asked and I swallowed thickly.

“Chef,” I said sternly. “Not talkin’ about my personal life right now, where are you with your vegetable prep?” I asked, she rolled her eyes a bit. “Soo sensitive Jeff” She uncovered the 2 bowls in front of her already done. “Good. How did you see her anyway, we’ve been in my office…” I said curiously.

She smirked, “I have my ways, she’s cute, short, didn’t know you liked the small ones” she teased and I smiled a bit at the thought of her, “Tina, back to work and no more talk about who I bring around on my breaks, heard?” I ask. “Yes Jeff, loud and clear” she retorts.

By the time the clock had hit 10:50, we were all cleaning, and Richie and Fak of course were shooting the shit as they cleaned their stations. “Dude so tell us about this Winnie the Pooh character man,” Fak says as he scrubs down the blacktop. “Firstly, don't fuckin’ call her that, secondly, none of your business- she's not a character, just a… a friend” I shrugged.

“Hey Fak, do we nail?” Richie says and I glare at him. “We do not nail, have never, but you are totally nailing that chick, or want to.” I clench my jaw. “Cousin, why do you have the fattest loudest fuckin mouth in the entire kitchen?” I questioned. He shrugs, “Dude, it should call for celebration if you’re finally getting laid!!” I roll my eyes annoyed, “Shut the fuck up, just shut up about it dude you’re both pissin’ me off” I continued scrubbing down the sink.

“Leave Jeff alone he can fall in love if he wants to love is beautiful Jeff I'm glad you're giving it another try after Claire that was so messy” Tina piped in and I groaned, “Tinaaa!! Stop! No can we all stop I have met this girl because she works across the fuckin street, she helped me with the menu because -” I try to come up with a reason that sounded better than ‘she reads’ when there are multiple members of the staff that read for fun.

“Becauseee… she's cute?” Richie said and I threw my wet sponge at him. “Off my fucking back! All of you! “ I huffed and rinsed out the now sparkling sink. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you take a lunch break, Jeff, sorry! Thats last I’ll say” Tina teases with a smile. “ We aren’t in love but you know what I do love? Fucking sleeping! Can I get a clean fucking kitchen so we can all leave?” I ask and am hit with a chorus of “Yes Chef”.

By the time everything was said and done it was 12:40, Satisfied with the fact that I was off earlier than usual I got changed and made the short walk back to my apartment, I couldn’t help but glance at Winnie's apartment at the end of the street as I headed inside, all I’d been thinking about since she’d left was hearing her voice again, because even though the sour candy had helped, I felt like it had just pushed it further down, allowing me to hold it back for a more convenient time.

I got in, taking a shower before crawling into bed for once. I took a deep breath, looking at my phone, not having realized Winnie had texted 4 hours ago now. I clicked on it and it opened,

Sorry.. I just keep thinking about what happened earlier. Idk why I feel weird.

I bit my lip, my mind darting between all the things she could possibly mean, was it the episode? Fuck I knew I didn’t let anyone see for a reason, but she seemed- like she would understand maybe? But why would I think that, I just met her, I don’t even trust Sugar like that. What if she was… rejecting me? I swallowed crossedly, and before I could realize what I was doing I had clicked on her contact and clicked call.

I panic, not sure whether to just hang up and after just 3 rings I hear a sleepy “Carmy?” and my heart tightens. “Uh. Yeah- sorry, hey” I said smacking my palm to my forehead lightly idiot. “Hey” I heard her yawn. “How was work?” she asks softly. “It was..work. What do you mean about - why do you feel weird?” I asked and the line got silent for a moment, all I could hear on the other end is what sounded like rain.

“Are you….sleeping in the shower?” I asked and she giggles. “Oh my god, so silly. It’s fuckin’ rain noise, a noise machine, it helps me sleep.” she said and I snort. “Oh thats…cute. But- yeah why d’you feel… weird?” I asked again and she sighs softly, getting quiet again.

“I…don’t want to scare you away” she said finally and I furrow my brows in confusion, turning onto my side. “You couldn’t do that, Winnie, what’s wrong, talk to me” She takes a deep breath. “You know how… how you said you don't like being attached to anyone?” she asks quietly. I swallowed thickly, “Mmhmm” I hummed. “I get too attached, to people… and… I don’t think we’d be good for each other, now that you’ve told me,” she said sadly, and I felt my heart ache, my stomach turning with anxiety.

“You won’t get attached to me though, if you meant what you said” I counter, looking at the shadow of the passing cars on the wall. “But I will, and - when you never want me I’ll hate myself.” she said quietly. “No. You’ll see who I am soon enough, and you’ll realize that it’s for the best that I’m not anyones boyfriend.” I said and rolled on my back, looking up at the ceiling.

“It’s not about being my boyfriend! I don’t care” she huffed “Then what, Winnie?” I cross my arm over my chest “The day will come, that you meet a girl- and you do want her to be your girlfriend, and I’m going to be so attached to whatever we have, that it will break me for you to be with someone else.” she said softly. I chuckled a bit, “Winnie, I don't date. Ever” I replied,

“How do you mean?” She asked, and I sighed softly. “I - I’ve never had a girlfriend, there was this girl I thought I wanted, her name was Claire, a-and I fucked it up with her last year, Really, really bad. She grew up with us, but she… I couldn’t - move. With her, you know?” I said. “She wasn’t letting you grow?” she asked softly, and I sighed in relief. “Thank you, exactly, yes.” I rub my jaw slightly.

“But I did some really fucked up shit, and strung her along, and I fucked up at work a-and I can’t again, Winnie. I can’t “ I sighed, biting the inside of my cheek and cursing myself internally when it starts to bleed again. “I dunno.. Carm. I have abandonment issues” she said quietly and I snort. “You and me both” I said and sighed softly. “But… I -” I sigh deeply “Nevermind” I shook my head. “I’m sorry..f’waking you” I said.

“No” She replied “You did, because you wanted to, and you said you liked getting to know me..right?” she questioned. “Of course I do.. but - I don’t like answering questions as much as I like asking them to you…” I look over the bruised part of my arm that she had tended to last night and I hear her giggle. The sound sends butterflies through my stomach, and my chest lightened just a bit.

“Fine, question, for a question then, I’ll let you ask first” she mused and I smiled a bit. “So..you had alot of boyfriends growing up?” I asked, a bit nervous about the answer. I was not the most experienced in bed, I did Tinder in New York and had some god-awful experiences, but I was always willing to try things that were brought up, as long as they did the asking, I’d never share my internal desires with a hookup especially.

“Nope” she said popping the ‘p’ “My turn now?” she asked and I chuckled “No way! Hell no, if those are your answers I don’t wanna play” I said and she sighed, “Ok, ok, thought I’d give it a try…lets see, i’ve had 4 boyfriends total, 2 were in high school, so not sure if you can count those. One was more of a fling in college, and then my longest was my worst, learned my lesson about..older men.” she finished and I raised my eyebrows, “How much older?”

She tisked “Hold it, it's my turn now” she said and I huffed. “Fine, what’s your question” I asked “And you better give me a solid answer like I gave you” she said and I snort “Yes ma’am, c’mon, ask away.” I said. “What did you do to Claire?” she asks and my blood runs cold, my stomach turning to lead and I swallow thickly.

“Uhhh” I said, trying to come up with an answer that sounded as least prick like as I possibly could. As if she could read my thoughts, she said “Pure, honesty, Carm. All of you. Remember?” I bit down on my lip. “Yeah I…kinda- I don’t- don’t take this the wrong way, I don’t want her anymore, just…” I lick my lips trying to find the words. “I’m…guilty” I said “I-I feel, guilty, for what I did, and it was because she…she wanted to be with me, and I-I saw her, as like a…jumping off point, and I never intended her to want me how she wanted me, and I” I take a deep breath, feeling that burning anxiety in my chest.

“So..you lied to her about how you felt?” she asked and I sighed, “Yes, horribly, fully lied. Winnie, and it’s so so bad… when we first opened last year, we had the first family, I was so-” I swallow hard, “Distracted, with trying to get myself to like her… that I fucked up, and didn’t call the fridge guy, and I locked myself in the walk-in, a-and” I shake my head, “And?” she said softly.

“I thought I was talking to Tina, one of my sophomore chefs- about how I felt, and I was honest, because shes Tina, and I told her that I- I didn’t want her, and I never did, and she was right fucking there.” I sighed deeply and she was silent for a moment. “Do- do you- Really want me to come to family, or do you want to prove to yourself that you have it in you to hide your feelings well enough again until you decide what you really want?” she asked, her voice just above a whisper.

I swallow, my chest tightening at what I was about to do but I didn’t want to answer that because I wasn’t sure how, “It’s my turn now.” I said and bit my lip. “N-no- you can ask two- answer, Carmen” she said her voice trembling and my stomach drops. “I don’t know Winnie, I- I don’t want to hide from you, i’ve never- I-I never did this with Claire, talked to her.” I said and sit up a bit.

“Ask me your two” she said, her tone different then before. “No- no just one…” I said “H-how…why do you think our souls know eachother?” I asked, not even knowing where it came from before it came out. She quiets for a moment, before saying “I dunno… a feeling, like- why can we talk like this right now?” she asked and I think on it for a moment. “Not sure” i reply.

“Why did you say you won’t talk to me every day, but we’ve been in such close contact the last 3 days?” she asked softly, I rubbed my chin in contemplation. “Because when I inevitably fuck up and piss you off, I’m not the guy that's gonna run to you and bring you flowers- a-and beg for your forgiveness because I won’t deserve it, so I’ll run and hide, and i’ll only ever try to get you to forgive me if you tell me you - like.. Want me in your life still” I sighed.

“Well.. I won’t beg for your apology but i’ll ask you if you’re sorry if you hurt me” she replied, and I found myself smiling lightly. “You always know what t’say” I look at the clock on my phone, 27 minutes already.

I heard her yawn, “Hey, I think you’re right Winnie, about- the soul thing..I was gonna let you go but just one more thing” I look at the flower on my arm. “I realized… that- you make me feel the same peace..that Mikey did, because…because - it’s so stupid, but when you poked my arm yesterday? You- you poked the flower that I got, for him. And I had one of those- attacks, before you got there…and after you were there- I realized, that… that Mikey used to help me outta those when I was little.” I admitted, the words spilling out like word vomit. It could be deliriousness from not getting much sleep the past few days and all the stress at work.

“Mmm…see?” she mumbles sleepily “Thats how you know, that poke was Mikey tellin’ you,” she said softly. “Ye’...I dont usually think about shit like that but uh…I dunno- I wanted to tell you, thank you for being there for me by the way.” I said and she let out a sleepy “mmhm”

“Alright, sorry again f’wakin’ you, I’ll see ya’ tomorrow ok? 4?” I asked.

“4, Night Carmy” she said softly. “Night, Winnie” I said and hung up.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

Winnie’s P.O.V -

I woke up to the sound of my usual 7 am alarm. I rubbed my eyes groggily, grabbing it and hitting the ‘stop’ button. Did I dream that Carmen called me last night and opened up to me? I hit my call log, to see a 29:28 conversation with none other, then Carmen. I bit my lip gently,

You always know what t’say

His voice echos in my mind. I sit up in bed, rubbing Sephys silky soft fur absentmindedly as I think. I sat there for a few minutes going over the parts of the conversation I could remember through my sleepiness, and before I knew it I was opening up my messages and clicking on his name.

GM, excited to be wined&dined tn, Chef. See ya @ 4

I got up, getting my day started. I took my pills, showered, brushed my teeth, and put on some comfortable black yoga pants and a way oversized ‘Chiefs Kingdom’ hoodie, slicking my hair into a claw clip. I fed Persephone per usual, making myself some coffee.

I was leaned at my kitchen island, watching tik toks while I sip my coffee, when my phone buzzed. My mind meets Carm’s notification at the top.

Morn - since ik you’ve never had Caviar, I think tn will be alot of firsts for you.

I bit my lip, of course he meant ingredients, like fancy shit- he can tell I have an unexpirienced pallate. But… I couldn’t help but go to the more dirty firsts that I could be having. Getting fucked in a walk in freezer? Maybe…rough office sex? I shake my head, smirking at my own filthy ideas. But I still love to tease, and I can do that by leaving more to his imagination.

We can only pop so many cherrys in one night before I get worn out, Chef.

I smirked at the little delivered under the message, clicking back on to my tiktok live of this fabulous farmer who was always dancing with his animals. I finished off my coffee, grabbing my purse and taking my headphones putting them on. I just wanted to drown in music on this walk, to silence my thoughts.

“Love you honey!” I called to sephy as I walk out the door. I bounce down the stairs, opening the door and taking a deep breath of the crisp march air. Spring was finally starting to bloom. I smiled, seeing my next door neighbor, Ms.Mendoza waiting for her little weenie dog to do potty in the patch of grass.

I took off my headphones for a moment, “Good Morning Miss Mendoza, How are you?” I chirp and she smiles upon seeing me, her tan wrinkled skin crinking up at the corners of her eyes in a smile. “Good Morning my Sunshine, I am well thank you so much for bringing his dog food up, honey” she said and I pull her in to a hug, kissing her cheek. “Any time! I love this little guy and he’s gotta eat, right Kidlat?” I squat next to the little black dog and pet his head. He jumps on my legs making me giggle as he licks my hands.

“Oh, Sunshine- I hate to ask you, but I need some more detergent, do you think you can get some for me?” she asked and I look up at her, nodding with a smile. “Course! I’ll be home early today, in a few hours actually. I’ll swing by the store on the way home” I stood up and she cupped my cheek. “You are such a good girl, Mahal” she said, causing me to smile.

“And you are such a wonderful lady, Miss Mendoza, I’ll see you ok?” I said and gave her a quick hug before heading off. It wasn’t likely that she saw Carm and I with her bad vision in the dark, for that which I was thankful, because she hasn’t stopped pesking me about a boyfriend whenever I help her clean her apartment in the places she cant get down on her hands and knees anymore. And considering where Carmen stands on the word boyfriend - It would make me crazy to dodge all her questions with him on my mind.

I hum along to my music as I continued down, mumbling the lyrics to myself. I finally get to the store, opening the door since my coworker, Sadie was already here. “Hey Pooh!” she said and I smiled. “SadieBug!” I said happily taking my headphones off. “How was Cape Cod?” I asked and she smiled. “Really great! I love seeing my grandparents, they’re awesome” she said. Sadie’s smile was so pretty. “You’re gonna have to show me pictures” I said, putting my purse down in my usual spot behind the counter.

“Totally, what’s been goin’ on with you? Alot change here in 3 weeks?” she joked. She’d usually expect nothing of an answer, especially because she was my only friend, we work together, and the only time I didn’t see her was on our days off which was 2 a week. “Uh.. not- particularly” I said the end sounding a bit like a question.

“Okay, so tea? What’s goin’ on?” She asked and it brings a small smile to my lips. I feel so relieved. I completely forgot that Sadie was coming home this week, and would be starting back with me today. My ADHD makes it to where if I don’t see or hear from someone even someone I love as dearly as SadieBug they completely skip my mind.

I silently thank myself for not calling her the other night at 2 am when I got back from my date with Carm, she hates being woken up. “So. Ok so on break on Tuesday I saw this hot guy smoking and so I talked to him and - he invited me in to his restaurant, you know, The Bear -“ She cuts me off.

“The restaurant - that Sydney works at?” She asks and my eyebrows raise, jaw dropping and I smack my hand over my mouth. “Oh my god” I mumble into my hand, eyes wide. Sydney. That was where I’d seen that girl. She’s Sadie’s fucking cousin. “Who - who.” She asks.

“C-Carmen Berzatto” I said and she slaps her hand over her mouth. “Noooo” I whine “nooo- no. Sadie! Sadieee. What? What?!” I ask desperately. “Syd totally had a crush on him- do you remember last year when she was telling us about her super hot boss that she had a thing for but he was dating this girl he knew from childhood?” She questions and I run my hands through my hair in stress.

“Oh- oh my god! Is she- she’s gonna hate me. I-“ my heart sinks to my stomach, my coffee suddenly wanting to make a reappearance. “She- I mean. Is dating…I guess” Sadie said and I groan. “DATING?! So? So one of my only friends- granted she works so much we’ve only hung out twice with you there but…but- nonetheless!! She had a crush on the only guy that I’ve like- MADE OUT WITH since moving here?” I looked around terrified, thanking the lord the store was empty besides us.

Sadie starts to giggle “wait- wait…ok no forget Syd, you made out with the owner of The Bear ?! The guys loaded Pooh!!!” She said and I feel my cheeks heat. “I don’t- yes! We did. And I don’t care about his money.” I said and shook my head, walking over to relock the door since we were taking inventory today. “Okkayyyy but still. Is he..any good? Sydney wanted a piece of that Italian hunk sooo bad” she jokes and I snort.

“He would die being called an Italian Hunk. But…yes. Very good. Can you believe he’s shy - like- he’s never had a real girlfriend” I said and she raised her eyebrows. “Mmmm- first red flag, noted and saved in my mental flag folder,” she cuts open a box of books for us to stock and I roll my eyes. “He’s just…passionate about work and stuff. And he- is like. So good. So good” I said and she nods.

“Second red flag, the Carmen Berzatto folder has many do you know how many times Syd ranted to me about him and I just didn’t tell you because it was private conversations- but now since you seem to have a crush on him, I need you to be fully aware” she said and I sigh deeply. “Lay it on me then, because I’m supposed to be seeing him again tonight.” I said. She stood up from her crouched position on the floor.

“Fucking family?” She asked and my head snaps in her direction “How- fuck!” I rest my hand on my forehead. “Yeah? I’m actually family- I should be asking how you got invited!!” She said and I bit my lip. “He doesn’t- invite…people?” I asked and she laughed, sarcastically. “Dude. The last time he invited anyone it was that girl he was dating, and he aired out all of his red flag shit- and she ran in the other direction!!” She said and I felt my heart thumping in my throat.

“Claire?” I asked and her eyebrows raised “You know her too?” She asked and I shook my head, “no- no he…he told me about her..last night” I said and swallowed hard. “How many times have you seen him?” She asked “3…” I replied and she put her hands on top of her head, pacing in front of the counter.

“He's- he’s not good for you and you should stop this, Winnie,” she said and I crossed my arms. “What if he’s changed, Sadie?” I ask and she stops, putting her hands on her hips. “Sydney wouldn’t have moved on if he changed. She was waiting for him to change to tell him her feelings and he never did - that’s why she started dating Alex” she said and I bit my lip.

“He doesn’t even want anything…we’re just- we’re friends.” I said and she rolled her eyes “I’m not gonna play that game with you, Winnie. Here you go again, We’re just friendsing your way around a situationship- and then when he finally gets cold feet and runs in the other direction, who’s gonna be left heartbroken?” She asked and I sighed softly, knowing she was completely right.

“Well…I dunno Sadie. We’ll see! Right- tonight. And if he…if…if it doesn’t feel right I’ll stop it ok? I’ll- I’ll tell him I don’t want to see him anymore” I said, wanting it to be true but knowing how I felt when it was just Carmen and I. She shrugged “I know you, Pooh, and you love a man who needs fixing.” She said and I rolled my eyes.

“Okay!! Reading me at fuckin, what is it” I look at the clock “9:17!! He doesn’t- okay. He needs to fix himself and I will remove myself from the situation if he treats me poorly! Because broken people deserve love while they’re putting themselves together” I echo my therapist's words to her. She rolled her eyes. “That only works if you actually follow through and don’t give him a million chances when he hurts you and then doesn’t immediately correct the behavior,” she said.

I squat next to her, scanning each new book as I put it on the bottom row of the cart. “You’re right, and I will if he hurts me I’m out! Peace the fuck out and never look back!” I said and she smiled “okayyy..hopefully you mean that” she replied. The next few hours were filled with light pleasant conversation about her trip to the cape, how her family had been doing, and running back and forth to the stock room with stacks of books.

Our half-day went by quickly, even with no customers to fill the hour's conversation with Sadie seemed to make time pass well. I stood behind her as she locked the door to the shop and we continued our conversation about a video on tik tok she saw “And so I don’t even know how people could say that they would have done something different, if I was in her shoes I’d have punched her too!” She said and I laughed “We both would have. Fuck that bitch” I roll my eyes.

“Well. Here’s where we part.” She said and I pouted “I know…but see you in a few hours right?” I said and she nodded “Yup, I’ll save you a seat- just….if Syd is a little weird don’t - don’t take offense ok? The Carmen thing is still fresh for her and I know she’ll be happy he’s moving on it’s just…it’ll be raw that it’s with someone she knows” she said and I nodded quickly, swallowing hard.

“Course- I’d never hold it against her. And I- I hope it doesn’t…make things bad for us. I really like her.” I said and she pulled me into a hug “She’ll get over it, don’t worry, you know how we don’t respect men- we’d never let them come before our girls” she said and I giggled “100% chick. I gotta go grab detergent for Ms.Mendoza, I’ll see you there” I said and she nodded, heading the opposite way down the street.

I head the other way, going into a CVS and grabbing the tide scented pods that Ms.Mendoza liked before heading home. I put my headphones on and hum softly to myself swinging the bag next to me. I finally hauled up the 3 flights to my floor, slightly out of breath. I approached Ms.Mendozas door, knocking slightly and Kidlat starts barking. “One second” she called and I heard her shuffling over to the door.

The lock clicks and she opened it, her grey hair up in curlers “oh! Sunshine, thank you dear” she said and I handed her the bag, she stretches a $10 bill to me and I push it back towards her. “No- it’s ok, you’re always makin’ me dinner” I told her and she smiled warmly. “You need to eat better young lady” she said and pinched my cheek, causing me to smile. “Do you want to come in and have some lunch?” She asked and I shook my head.

“Sorry, I’d love to but I’ll be having a big dinner tonight, I’m going to a restaurant to meet a friend,” I said and her eyes lit up. “A boyfriend?” She asked and I blushed lightly “No- no not like that, he’s just… a nice friend,” I said softly and she nodded. “Well…the best boyfriends always start as friends, Mahal,” she said and I smiled, “that’s right Ms.Mendoza…I’ll see you,” I said and headed into my apartment.

I greet Persephone, giving her a few pebbles of treats and flicking her mouse around for her for a few minutes before heading to my closet to pick out an outfit. I bit my lip, looking over the choices. I finally settled on a little black dress, complete with fluffy cuffs and a black ribbon to tie in my hair.

I headed to the bathroom, singing and dancing along to Taylor Swift as I blew out my waist-length red hair to perfection, adding in some frizz serum to make it extra soft and silky, as well as smell like milk and honey which I loved. I used to hate my red hair, my brother and I both got bullied for it when we were younger. I’d heard every name in the book, carrot top even followed me into adulthood when I met an immature prick now and again. But since I’d grown, I’d made it my thing. I got it highlighted with blonde in the winter to match how it looks in the summer naturally, and in the summer those pieces get even brighter giving me a sunkissed look.

I look at the clock, 3:04 doing ok on time. I heard my phone buzz and the little ‘pop’ notification sounding over my speaker. I pick it up, clicking on the text from Carmen.

Don’t worry, one thing I am good at is delayed gratification - wouldn’t want to overwhelm you on your first time ;)

My stomach flutters in excitement, my core twitching and growing hot with arousal. Fuck. I swallow thickly.

Leaving in 30!

Was all I sent back and locked my phone. I did light face makeup, like usual letting my freckles that spotted my cheeks and nose shine through, and added highlight to the high points of my face. I did a sharp dramatic wing, and put on some whispy lashes. Completely transforming myself, from a doe eyed sweetheart- into a sultry Jessica Rabbit. I put on my Haus red liquid lipstick after putting on a deep maroon liner, knowing that once it dried it wouldn’t be moving no matter what direction this night took me until I wanted it gone.

I went in to the bedroom, putting on a lacy red thong and push-up bra set, adjusting my chest to look full and robust before carefully slipping on my sparkly black nylons. I put on my dress, zipping up the side and smoothing it out, I went over to the mirror, taken aback by myself. I look stunning. It wasn’t often that I allowed myself to go all out, I didn’t like the attention it brought since I was more of a casual person. But this. I understand what people mean when they say you feel sexy.

I put on my favorite perfume, one that I saved for extra special occasions. It was a French perfume that my grandmother bought me when I was 15, I couldn’t pronounce the name- all I knew was that my last spray I’d use on my wedding day, and I’d only use it when I really needed confidence any day before then. I spray on my pulse points, letting it dry down before gently inhaling the smell of honeycomb, dark rum, vanilla, and sandalwood. It was the best smell in the world to me, I love this perfume.

I switched over all of my contents to a small black leather night bag I had, going and grabbing my phone off the charger. I slipped on some black stiletto heels, buckling around the ankle and I headed out to the kitchen where Persephone was lounging on the couch.

“Hi missy” I said and she meowed, getting up and stretching before walking over to me. I crouched down, petting her. “Dinner time early tonight,” I said softly and she darted into the kitchen causing me to giggle. I go in, putting her food in to the bowl and setting it down for her petting her back. “Be home soon yeah?” I said softly and check the time on my phone. 3:48. I stood up, giving myself one more look in the hall mirror.

Knock ‘em dead, Win’

I heard Christopher’s voice in my mind and I smiled, adjusting my hair. “Knock ‘em dead…” I whisper to myself before heading out the door.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

I got to the front door of The Bear and knocked gently, Richie looks over and smiles, coming and unlocking it. “Hey you! You look snappy huh? Nice dress!” He said and I smiled big. “Why thank you, you look very handsome, Richie” I said and gave him a quick hug as I head through the door. “Thanks! Clean up pretty good don’t I?” He jokes and I giggle “very, where’s little chef boy?” I asked and he snorts “back in his office, fucker came in extra early this morning we’re running 2 hours ahead of schedule for once” he said and a little girl comes racing from the kitchen.

“Daaaddyyy look at this!!” She squeals and he picks her up admiring he picture she was proudly holding. “Look at that munchkin!! Is that you and Cousin Carmy in the kitchen?” He asks and she nods “making pancakes!!” She said happily and I smiled warmly. “Who’s this little tatertot?” I asked and she giggled.

“My daughter! Meet Eva” he said and I smiled, holding out my hand to her. “Wonderful to meet you, Eva.” I said and she takes my hand shaking it gently “My name is Winnie” I smiled. “Winnie like Winnie the Pooh?” She asked cutely and I giggle “yes! Exactly like that!” I said and she wiggles away from Richie to get down and looks up at me.

“Are you princess Ariel?” She asked, causing me to giggle “well I wish” I crouch down to her height. “You talk like a princess” she said and I smile “wanna know a secret?” I whisper and she leans in, nodding. “When I was in school…I learned how to sing like a princess, do you want to hear?” I asked and she gasped. “Yes!! Please please!!” She begs. I nodded happily.

“Do you like Princess Ariel?” I asked and she nodded enthusiastically. “Ok..” I clear my throat, taking her hands in mine and softly started singing to her

“Look at this stuff, isn’t it neat? Wouldn’t you think my collections complete? Wouldn’t you think I’m the girl, the girl who has everything? Look at this trove, treasures untold, how many wonders can one cavern hold? Lookin around here you’d think-“ I poke her belly, causing her to giggle before I continued “sure, she’s got everything! I’ve got gadgets and gizmos aplenty. I’ve got whosits and what’s its galore- you want thingamabobs? I’ve got 20! But who cares, no big deal- I want more” I finished and she claps, Richie staring at me intently.

“Well shit.” He said “daddy! That’s a bad word- will you marry her? Be her prince Eric!” Eva said and tugged his pant leg. I giggled “sorry sweetheart, I’m no real princess. But I’m happy to sing like one for you any time” I said and got up, smoothing down my dress. “She’s right you might be a princess I’ve never heard someone sing like that before” Richie said causing me to blush.

“Well, I was in theater all my life so.. yeah” I clear my throat with a shy smile. “Uh I’m gonna-“ I point to the kitchen and he nods “yeah- yeah f’sure. Sorry didn’t mean to keep you” he said and I shook my head “no! Not at all. Love a little song I don’t get to do it much anymore” I extended my hand to Eva, shaking hers gently. “It was a pleasure to meet you, young lady.” I said and she smiled. “Will you sing for us at dinner?” She asked and my cheeks went beet red “honey-“ Richie started “no- no honey she’s here to enjoy the food with us yeah?” He rubs her shoulder and she pouted.

“Someday we can sing together okay?” I told her softly and she nodded happily. I went back to the kitchen, opening the door. Surprised to see trays upon trays of food sitting under the warmers waiting to be plated, and all the staff except for Carmen was standing around the large island talking. When the door swings shut they look up at me, Sydney’s eyes widen and I swallowed thickly.

“Uh- Winnie?” She said “Syd!!” I said and smiled, hoping if I acted happy to see her she’d do the same. “What are you…oh- holy shit.” She said realizing. “You- you were” I shook my head a bit, widening my eyes hoping she got the message. “Yeah. Just..Here. For..for Carmen.” I get out awkwardly and she nodded. “It’s nice to finally meet you!” A short woman with black curly hair says. “I’m Tina” she comes over extending her hand to me.

I smiled and shook it gently “Winnie” I said softly. “Carmen’s in the office you can go on back” Sydney said flatly and I swallowed hard, nodding “thank you.” I said meekly and walked back, feeling the burning stare of their eyes on me as I headed to the office the only sound being the buzz of the lights and the click of my heels.

I should have went out back and texted him. Why on earth would I want to meet everyone on my own instead of him introducing me?!

I opened and shut his office door behind me, desperate to get their prying eyes off my back and Carmen looks up from his desk, his eyes widening a bit as he racked over me. I look at him and smile a bit, he looked so hot. His Chefs Whites were ironed to perfection, his curls were slicked back neatly and he looked a bit rested for once. “Hey” I said softly, finally breaking the silence.

“Hey…” he replied, eyes continuing to rack over my frame “you look…” he said, swallowing thickly. “Nice- r-really pretty” he said and I smiled, nodding a bit. “You look really handsome” I said and approached him, “thank you” he said softly a blush creeping in to his cheeks. “So…I met- like. Tina. She introduced herself. And - well. I know Syd.” I said and his eyes widened “you- you know Syd? How?” He asked.

“Oh- ah yeah her cousin, Sadie? She’s come for family before…she works with me” I said. He nodded a bit, eyes unable to read. “C’mere” he opened his arms and I stepped forward, wrapping my arms around him.

He rests his hands on my waist, pulling me into his lap causing me to giggle “woah! Hey I’m in a dress remember” I keep my knees together and he holds my legs for me nearly cradling me in his huge chair. “Thank you f’comin” he said and kisses my forehead sweetly. I blushed at the sweet, domestic like gesture and nod. “Course…how could I say no to some denied gratification… is that how you said it?” I said softly and my eyes flicker to his lips.

He smiled a bit “thats it” he strokes my thigh gently “these are nice” he said softly and I adjust his chain. “That always stays front and center when you’re around” he said and I look up at him with a smirk on my lips. “Gotta make sure you don’t loose anything” I whisper and he leans in a bit, stopping just above my lips.

“Am I gonna ruin this lipstick if I kiss you?” He asks softly, his breath hot on my lips. I pull him in by his collar, kissing him hard and running my tongue along the bottom of his lip. He hums and opens for me, and my tongue meets his immideately, tasting the reminence of a cigarette on his tongue. I hummed in satisfaction, nuzzling my nose against his sweetly and I feel him smile against my lips. I pull away and smiled, fluttering my eyelashes playfully.

“How’s the lipstick,Chef?” I asked and made a kissy face. “Perfect. Wow. Where’d you get that stuff?” He asked and pecked my lips for good measure. “Lady Gaga darling” I said dramatically and got up off his lap, fixing my dress. “Let’s go smoke” I took his lighter from my bra that I’d lifted from his pocket while we were kissing “robbed ya” I smirk and he chuckled.

“You are a sneak” he got up patting my bum with his hand and I squeak at the contact “you are getting too aquainted with my ass, Chef” I giggle a bit and he shrugged “you have a nice ass” he said and I rolled my eyes tugging the door open. I felt the lump in my throat as all eyes in the kitchen turn to us. He looks at the clock.

“Alright uh- appetizers let’s get em plated, I want everyone at their stations. Let’s keep up with the housekeeping tonight so we can get outta here on time yeah? We’ve been ahead a’schedule let’s keep it that way.” He tells them.

“Yes Chef” they said getting to work Sugar comes in the kitchen “Bear- oh! Hey!! Wowww you look cute!” She said with a smile. I blushed a bit. “Thank you, you look cute too” I told her. “What’sup Sugar” he looks at her.

“Oh I just wanted to say- great job tonight. Everything is like…perfect.” He nodded “thanks…” he muttered and tugged my arm gently “be proud of yourself, Bear. Really. Be proud.” She said sincerely and he nods. “Thanks, Sugar” I followed him outside and he sighed softly.

“She’s…right. You know that, right?” He took his cigarettes out, putting one between his lips and I lit it for him. “It’s not all me” he said once he exhaled. I crossed my arms over my waist “it is though, Carmen. You are the first one here and the last to leave, you are the person everyone looks to, when we walk out- it’s like sheep waiting to be told what to do next. They respect you Carmen. No one back talks you, no one asks why- they trust your decisions in there”

He takes in my words, looking down at our shoes as he smoked. “You run a beautiful business, Carmen. Really” I said honestly and rest my hand on his bicep. His cheeks heat, the bridge of his nose turning pink with blush. “Thank you” he said softly. “Really, means a lot” he said and I nodded, smiling a bit. I took a joint out of my purse, leaning in and lighting it on his cigarette before taking a drag.

“So, Chef Berzatto what do you have in store for me today?” I asked and he smirked at my words. “I wouldn’t want to ruin all the surprises” he said and I took another drag. “Fine but get me in the mood, make me wet, chef- my palate. You know.” I said in a sultry teasing tone. His mouth dropped at my words getting a giggle out of me. “You have a dirty mouth” he leans in and kissed me deeply, I hum in to the kiss, gently playing with the pendant around his neck.

“Maybe you have a dirty mind” I said when he pulled away and he shook his head with a smirk. “For an appetizer” he started and took a drag of his cigarette “Gladolia Petals, and spicy violet pearls, and grilled leek, aubergine, and mushrooms” he said smoke spilling from his lips in tendrils.

“Flowers?” I questioned and he nodded with a amused smile that I was interested. “Mmhmm, edible ones of course” he said. “Hm” I hum. “No wonder you’re so fit, eating like a king all the time” I teased, taking another drag of my joint. He laughs a bit “no- no. I don’t eat- I taste. I eat…honestly I eat like shit” he said and I furrow my eyebrows.

“You don’t have a super nice lunch like we had together every day?” I asked and he shook his head “oh- no way. I eat when I get home and it’s usually like” he snorts “a fuckin pb and j or a microwave burrito, I eat like..pure shit.” He said and I look at him puzzled. “Why?” I asked and he shrugged, taking another drag of his cigarette. “No time. Well - not worth it to have groceries im not home to use I guess.” He said and leaned against the wall.

I lean forward, squeezing his bicep “so…peanut butter and jelly diet huh?” I said and he chuckled. “Well yeah. I just….i work out when I can’t sleep so. Yeah. Guess it pays off being an insomniac” he smiled and I rest my head on the wall, taking another drag off my joint.

“You’re fascinating” I said softly. He smirks “why’s that?” He asked. “Well for starters- I did google you, considering when I looked up this place- there were all these articles about how you’re this decorated chef with alll these achievements and titles. And so I was like who is this big-shot? And I googled your name…and I filtered it by oldest- and it’s like you didn’t- exist. Before 2016. Nothing. Nothing in school, no sports, no clubs, no community service. But then in 2016, there was an article about you in your culinary school paper, how you were top of your class that semester. And then all these articles about how you just won award after award, and…. I just- how? How did you do it, Carmen? Where did you come from?” I asked finally.

He took a deep breath, “A lot of it has to do with my brother, let’s talk about it tonight ye’? I promise, promise I’ll tell you” he put out the butt of his cigarette and I dropped the end of mine crushing it. “Ok…are we- am I gonna be able to see you tonight?” I asked and he nods. “ ‘course baby don’t worry. I’m gonna bring you your food and everything yeah?” He pulls me to him, resting his hands on my bum. I nod and look up at him, “like…after-can we…hang out?” I asked.

He nodded a bit “sure- sure if you wanna. I don’t have to work tomorrow but I’m probably gonna be outta here at 11” he played with the hemp of my dress. I bit my lip, contemplating asking for a moment before I just bit the bullet.

“Come over? To mine? You can meet Persephone…” I said and he smiled a bit “didn’t know you had a pet” he said and I gasp “I never showed you?” I dig my phone out of my purse excitedly and open my phone showing him my Home Screen.

“Your eyes are just like hers” I giggle and he smiled, blushing a bit. “She’s super cute.” He said and I put my phone back in my bag. “Sure. I’ll probably need to shower first so how’s like midnight?” He asked, pulling me back to him gently. “That’s fine.” I said and leaned in, kissing him sweetly. The door opened and Richie pokes his head out. “Hey- sorry lovebirds. It’s 5:02 everyone’s gettin settled in. Winnie you might wanna go sit so you don’t miss appetizers.” I nodded “thanks” I said and look at Carm again.

“Kick ass out there, Chef” I said with a smile and head back in after Richie.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

I sat down at the table with Sadie and her boyfriend, Mitch. “Hey guys” I said smiling “hey! You look cute!” She said and I smiled, looking at her lavender dress. “So do you! Love that color on you” I said and Sydney came over with a tray of drinks. “From Chef Carmen.” She said evenly, placing a cup in front of me. Spicy mint margarita with a pink umbrella, just like we had the other night. “Thank you” I said softly, putting my straw in and she sets down Sadie and Mitch’s dark blue looking drink.

“This is the house cocktail, coconut rum, vodka, and cream soda” she told them, Sadie nodded “Thanks Syd! This looks awesome” she said and Sydney nodded, smiling a bit. “I’ll be back with your appetizers in a moment.” She said and went off to the kitchen. I tried my drink, looking over at Sadie. “So…” she said softly.

“How’d it…go” she asked and I bit my lip gently. “Good…we talked, apparently we’re gonna eat flowers” I said and Mitch scrunched his nose. “Babe your cousin is in to fancy shit” he said to Sadie and she rolled her eyes “We talked about this, if you’re still hungry when we go home then we’ll stop” she said and Sydney approaches our table once again with a platter of plates.

“Gladioli’s petals with spicy violet pearls” she places a plate in front of Sadie, then Mitch, when she places a much bigger one in front of me I gasp softly. The same sauce that was in tiny dots atop the petals had been painted in to a portrait of Winnie the Pooh, ‘Winnie’ written in beautiful cursive on the side of the plate.

“Holy shit” Sadie whispered, admiring it. “Compliments of Chef Carmen, Enjoy.” Sydney went off back to the kitchen and I bit my lip to contain the smile that was forming. “Well that dude is dick-whipped” Mitch says, earning himself a kick in the shin from Sadie. “Shut it!” She hissed. “That is actually like…cute..Pooh” she smiled a bit, causing me to blush.

“Yeah…” I said in response, carefully eating around the art. “Wow” I muttered “This is weird, tastes like spicy garlic” She said and I smile. “I’ll be sure to give the chef your notes” I nod. “It kinda does though, I agree.” I hum. I slip my phone out of my purse, taking a photo of the plate and sending it to Carmen.

Here I was thinking you weren’t a romantic type, you’re a sap Berzatto!!

I smiled as I hit send, putting my phone back in my purse. I finished off my drink, and when the next round came out there was a waitress with curly brown hair bringing us the food. “Hello, I’m sure you were greeted by who invited you this evening, Here we have the second part of the appetizer, grilled leek, aubergine, and mushrooms with a cream sauce.” She puts a plate down in front of each of us.

“My name is Tara, I will be your waitress for the rest of the evening. Miss, would you like another of your cocktail?” she motioned to my drink, I nodded “Uh- sure! Yeah, thank you” I smiled and handed her my cup and she went off to the bar. Sadie scrunches her nose in a way I knew she would at the dish which makes me laugh. “Sadie!” I whisper between giggles. “Stop- we have to try it, if Syd sees our plates untouched shes gonna be so mad!” I said and she started laughing quietly but I could tell she was holding back by the little squeaks that were coming out.

“Ssssadie!!!” I cover my mouth to cover my laugh. “Stop it!” I whisper and pick up my fork, cutting a piece of it and putting it in my mouth. “Ok, it's not bad just…earthy- you’re not gonna like it” I said and she pushed her plate away. I took one more bite before deciding it wasn’t for me and pushing it aside. Bussers came to all the tables taking the empty plates and the waitress comes back with my drink.

“Thank you” I smiled, “Of course- The head chef requested he personally bring out your meals to this table, it should be out momentarily, in the meantime would you like another drink?” She asked Mitch, since Sadie had barely touched hers. “Yeah sure but um- a beer is fine, just Miller lite” he said and she nodded, taking his empty glass to the bar and coming back with the beer before returning to the kitchen.

“Oooo he’s comin’ to bring you your food - we didn’t even see him last time I was here” she said and I felt my cheeks heating “See! I told you he’s nice, and he’s gonna ask how we’re liking everything, and you better not laugh!” I give her a look although I was trying to hide a smile. She starts giggling again “Then don't look at me!!!” she said causing me to laugh and the door swings open, the waiters and waitresses all filing out to tables and Carm was at the end of the line.

I smiled at him, before breaking my gaze and looking at Sadie shooting her a don’t giggle! Look. He approaches the table “Hey you” He said softly and I smiled, “Everything is awesome, Carm” I said quietly for only us to here and he smiled “I’m glad you’re enjoying” he puts the plates down in front of us. “So we have for your main course, Roe Deer in a salt crust, crunchy Cavolo Nero, a Hazlenut pesto, and Celeriac” he said and I furrow my brows, He leans down “It’s really just deer steak, kale, pesto, and grilled celery root baby, we just say it fancy” he whispered in my ear and I smiled looking at him, my whole body covered in goosebumps by the use of the intimate name.

“Chefs, are the art bro’s of food” I said softly and he chuckled a bit. “Enjoy your meal” He told us and went back to the kitchen. “This taste like a potato” Sadie said, eating some of what I now knew was celery root. “I guess its a fancy celery root” I said and cut up my steak. I hum at the flavor, our whole table growing quiet as did most of the restaurant as we enjoy the meal. At the end of the course the buspeople came out again and collected the empty plates, before the waitresses came shortly after with the dessert.

She placed my plate down last again, this time, my chocolate cake had a heart drawn in chocolate sauce next to it, causing me to smile and blush. “He’s… like- actually in to you, Winnie” Sadie said, observing my plate. “I dunno- it’s it could be flirting” I shook my head with a smile, taking a bite of the delicious cake. “Wow… this is great” Sadie said and I nodded “mmm- absolutely…I’m gonna need Carmen to give me some of this again” I said and took out my phone, seeing he’d replied to my text.

Only with extra pretty girls who share their sour candy

I smiled at the thoughtful reminder of yesterday, quickly typing and sending a response.

Can’t wait till 12 to see you- can I pay my compliments to the Chef before I go?

I slipped my phone back in my purse, continuing to talk with Sadie and Mitch about different pop culture things and the gossip of what's going on in our lives at the moment. I nibbled on my chocolate cake, feeling fuller by the second and knowing I’d never be able to finish it.

I heard my phone buzz in my purse and put my fork down, fishing it out and looking at Carmens response

Course I just have to thank everyone for coming & everyone says their goodnights

I locked my phone again, “Sadie- Gotta go to the bathroom, comin’?” I asked and she nodded, getting up and following me back to the womens room. I pushed open the door and she followed behind me. “Ok, well I will say he’s being sweet, and way more romantic then Syd said he was with Claire” Sadie said as I touched my makeup up in the mirror. “Told you, he's changed” I touch up my face powder and she huffed, leaning against the wall.

“Or he could be in his honeymoon lovebombing stage, and wanting you to fall for him so he can go all cold” She said and I rolled my eyes. “Yes” I replied, partially annoyed, “But, he could also be into me, and showing it! Like a nice guy, like you said- he has this place, and I googled him before- you’re right. So why not…ya know” I shrugged. She sighed a bit “I guess” she opened up the stall door to use the restroom and I waited for her near the door.

“You’ve been texting him the whole time, doesn’t that say lovebombing to you?” she asked as she pulled on the toilet paper roll. “Oh- the whole time” I laugh a bit, rolling my eyes. “I texted him first, we’ve exchanged like 2 texts!” I said and she flushed, opening the stall door and coming out to wash her hands. “And I assume you’re seeing him tonight…” she raised her eyebrows.

“Yes…and?” I said and she giggled “I will say it with my chest like Ari!” I said causing us both to laugh. I opened the door to the bathroom for us and we went back to the now cleared table, sitting down. There was soft chatter throughout the restaurant and all the Chefs came out. “Alright I just wanted to thank you all for coming tonight, Means alot- and Without further do- Chef Sydney, who created the main course tonight” Carmen said and we clapped.

“Thank you all so much for coming, I hope you enjoyed the dish I worked very hard on it, and I hope to see you all next time, stay safe!” She said and we gave her a round of applause before the Chefs broke off to their respective families, to my surprise- Carmen and Sydney both came up to our table.

“How was it?” He asked and I smiled wide, so happy he was wanting to show off to people that he invited me. “So- so good, Chef Sydney- you are so amazingly talented, I’m so grateful to call you a friend” I said honestly and touched her hand. She looked at me a bit surprised and grasps my hand gently with hers, “Ye-Yeah, yeah, totally, thank you, Winnie- really” she nods.

“Ok- what the fuck was that appetizer- mushroom shit” Sadie asks Syd and I can’t contain my laughing at her usual boldness. Carmen’s jaw drops and Syd’s eyes widen, and my giggles caused Sadie to start laughing herself. “What do you mean oh my god Sadie! That is my boss” she said and I gasp in laughter, leaning in to Carm’s side.

“Don’t worry Syd, Carmen,” I look at him and his shocked expression just makes me laugh harder. I caught my breath and wrap my arm around his bicep, “Sydney and I are both sorry for Sadies outburst, shes picky” I giggled and he shook his head, chuckling a bit. “I can see why you two are friends” he said and I raise my eyebrows, “Better be a good thing Chef!” I giggle and he nods, “Course, 2 firecrackers I’m sure you two cause lots of trouble, c’mon I need a cigarette before we clean y’comin?” He wrapped his arm around my waist and I nodded “Thank you again, Syd - Sadie- see ya monday” I told her.

She gives me a look as Carm tugs me away, my purse tucked in my arm, and gives the ‘call me’ sign and I giggled, nodding and taking his hand as we slinked through the kitchen to the back alley. As soon as the door shuts, I leaned against it, pulling him by his collar into a deep kiss and he hums softly, cupping my waist with his hands and lightly squeezing. I swipe my tongue over his bottom lip and he opens for me, our tongues meeting roughly, a needy wanting kiss. His hands travel down and cup my ass, squeezing. He pulled away after a moment, lips swollen from our kiss, us both slightly out of breath.

“That was so fucking amazing Carmen, holy shit you are fucking amazing” I breathed and kiss his neck, biting gently at the skin under his jaw and he gasps softly, his hands trailing up to the small of my back, “What was- dinner? Or the kiss?” He asked, “Both” I breathe in to his neck, kissing the pulsepoint below his ear before nibbling his earlobe “Oh- okay” He said softly. “I- I wanna keep doing this with you but I have to get back inside, baby” he said lowly and I pulled away, pouting a bit. “Ok” I said, taking his lighter out of his pocket while he found his cigarettes and lighting it for him. He leans against the door and exhales in a sigh, rubbing his hand over his face.

“That actually went really fuckin’ well” He said and took another drag. I leaned on my shoulder, watching him. “I’m glad.. It was all so, so good Carm, it was delicious” I said and held his other hand, kissing the tattoo of the chefs knife gently. “Guess you’re my good luck charm yea?” he teased and I smiled, cheeks heating slightly. “No- that would be you, you’re the lucky charm” I kiss over each one of his knuckles gently.

“Could I…maybe take you up on that massage tonight? If you were serious that is.” He said and I smiled, “Of course, Would you like to make a reservation at Winnies Massage Parlor for 12 midnight?” I asked and he chuckled, “I would actually, I tip very well” He teased and I smiled, my heart picking up. “Sounds good, I’ll see you then” I said and he stomped out the butt of his cigarette.

“Thanks f’comin honey, I really mean it” He said and wrapped his strong hands around my waist. I smiled, “Of course! Carm, anytime” I said and he leaned in kissing me sweetly. When he pulled away I look up at him. “Twelve?” he asked.

“Twelve, I’ll text you my apartment number” I said and went down the step “See ya, Chef” I winked and he gave me his priceless smile as he went inside.

➜ 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒮𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃!

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