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loveforcarmen · 2 months

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𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 - CH. 6

- 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘻𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘰 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘰𝘤 𝘤𝘰𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘳 | - 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯

NOTE: lowkey wrote carmen a little ooc in this chapter 🫣

souvenir - boygenius

Carmen woke up to a loud pounding on his apartment door, jolting him awake. "What the fuck?" he muttered to himself, sitting up in bed. The door pounded again, with more force against it this time.

He got out of bed quietly, quickly slipping on a t-shirt that was on the floor. Walking towards his apartment door, he grabbed the baseball bat that he kept near the door. He opened the door quickly, bat raised over his shoulder.

"Carmen, what the fuck?" Margaret slurred, taking a step back.

He lowered the bat to his side, throwing his hand up, "What are you doing here? You lost or something?"

She sighed, rubbing her temples in an attempt to ward off an incoming migraine.

"Where are you coming from?" Carmen asked, glancing over her outfit. She wore a small black dress that hugged her body paired with a set of dark red heels. He stood still, slightly annoyed as she took her time to answer his question.

"A party." she motioned to her outfit, "Was it not obvious?" she did a small twirl, almost tripping over her feet due to the alcohol in her system.

"Yeah, you're right. It was obvious." he said, not in the mood to agrue with a drunk woman. They always win, even if they're wrong.

Margaret's smile suddenly dropped, the corners of her mouth turning into a frown. "My friends left me." her voice cracked as she felt herself growing emotional, amplified with her drunken state.

"Where's Sydney? Wasn't she supposed to go with you?"

She felt her bottom lip quiver as she spoke, "She cancelled last minute. Something with her dad." she said, shrugging her shoulders. She wore a sad smile as she backed up, leaning against the wall across from his apartment door.

"You need better friends." Carmen said, still standing in the doorway.

"Guess so." she sighed, picking at her fingernails. There was a long pause between the 2 before Carmen finally huffed, stepping aside to let her in.

She muttered a quiet "thank you" as she walked past him, into the apartment. He nodded his head, kicking the door closed behind them. Margaret set her bag on his coffee table, then carefully took off her shoes.

Settling onto the couch, she started to fall asleep when she felt a light tap on her shoulder. She looked up, her head still spinning.

"You can sleep in my bed. I'll take the couch." Carmen said, leaning over the couch, looking down at her. His hands gripped the couch, his hand close enough to her face to the point where she could study the intricate details of his hand tattoos.

"You don't have to. I don't want your pity." she said, closing her eyes again.

"Trust me, I don't feel pity for you. I just know that couch isn't the most comfortable to sleep on, speaking from experience." He helped her up off the couch, his touch almost featherlight on her arms.

He motioned for her to follow him down the hallway to his bedroom. As she trailed behind him, she noticed that he had absolutely no decor. No pictures, no paintings, no wall shelving. Absolutely nothing.

He opened the door, quickly swiping a pair of pants off his bed and tossing them into his closet. "Just wait there. I'll get you a change of clothes to sleep in." Carmen said as he walked to his dresser.

"Yes chef." she joked, immediately wishing she could take it back. Why would she even say that?

Carmen was glad his back was turned to her, her stupid comment almost pulling a genuine smile out of him. Maybe it was the fact it was early in the morning, so his head was loopy and his sense of humor was warped. Maybe it was the fact that she had no filter right now, her honesty in full effect.

He dug through his drawer, eventually settling on a pair of boxers and one of his many white t-shirts. He turned around, handing the clothes off to Margaret, who sat patiently on his bed.

She raised an eyebrow, holding the boxers out in front of her. Carmen hardly owned any pairs of shorts, so boxers was the best he could settle on. "They're clean." he rolled his eyes, continuing on. "Bathroom is over there. I'll be making the bed if you need anything."

He extended his arm to the door on their right as he walked over to the linen closet by the doorway. Carmen kept his eyes on Margaret a second longer than he intended to as she walked to the bathroom. He pressed his nails into his palms, punishing himself. She was his coworker first, anything else second. He didn't want to change the scenery.

As he changed the bedsheets and blanket, Margaret changed out of her clothes in the bathroom. She neatly folded her dress, setting it on the bathroom counter.

Carmen knocked on the door with a sharp rap of his knuckles, startling her, "Yo, you good in there?" he asked then kept quiet, waiting for answer.

"Yep." she said, opening the door. She smoothed down the white tee, which could practically be considered a dress on her. "I think it might be too tight." she said sarcastically.

He cleared his throat, ignoring her comment, "Bed is made. I grabbed your bag from the coffee table and set it on the nightstand. Just in case you needed something."

"Thanks Carmen." she said, rubbing the back of her neck as she walked to the bed. She let out an intentional whimper, hitting a knot that was in her neck from hours of looking down and cooking. It was quiet enough that someone wouldn't have heard it unless they were really listening.

"Yeah, no problem.." Carmen trailed off, still standing in the doorway. He scratched his knotted curls before walking off, "I'll go get you a glass of water." he excused himself.

He returned with the glass, setting it down gently on the wooden bedside table. Margaret looked up at him, appreciating his kindness. It wasn't outwardly shown to her often, especially in the kitchen. He usually wore a grumpy exterior, more often during the 2 week period after they fought.

"Thank you, Carmy." she said quietly, using his nickname for the first time in awhile. It was her way of showing that forgave him and also her way of apologizing for the past 2 weeks.

"Don't mention it." he rubbed the back of his neck before adding, "If you need to puke, please run to the bathroom."

"Got'cha." she mumbled, already drifting off into the welcoming arms of sleep. Carmen nodded his head, walking out of the bedroom. A feeling pricked him in the back like a needle, causing him to turn over.

"Roll over." Carmen said, walking to the bedside. He gently grabbed her, easily pushing her body on its side.

"Why?" she asked, awake and confused by the sudden action. She didn't even notice his hands holding her bare waist, his touch delicate on her skin.

"Because," he answered as he helped her roll over, "I don't need to drowning in your own puke dumbass." he remarked, stepping away from the bed.

"Oh." Margaret whispered. There was a long pause between them before she spoke again, "Goodnight."

Carmen walked to the doorway, flicking off the soft lamp lighting that had been illuminating the room, "Night Maggie." He shut door, walking to the living room to prepare his makeshift bed for the night.

SOMETIME IN EARLY MORNING

Carmen woke up to the usual brigade of bad dreams that plagued him at night. Getting up to fill up a glass of water, he noticed that he was sweating profusely. There was a line of sweat down the center of his back, transferring the moisture onto his shirt.

He groaned, filling up his cup, downing it then filling it up again. Setting his cup in the sink, he turned to quietly walk down the hallway to the bedroom. He opened the door, which resulted in a low 'creak' from the hinges.

Margaret stirred at the noise but did not wake up. Carmen grabbed her glass, then left room as quietly as he had came in. As he waited for the glass to fill up, he ran his fingers through his hair. A stress habit. Why was he stressed about her being there?

He returned to the bedroom, gently setting the glass back down in its previous spot. He glanced over at Margaret, who was sleeping soundly. Her hair had fallen onto her face, covering her cheeks and eyes.

He turned to leave, the quick turn resulting in him stubbing his toe on the nightstand. The nightstand rattled, causing a picture frame to fall over.

"Fuck." Carmen whisper-yelled, grabbing his foot tightly.

"Carmen?" Margaret groaned, slowly waking up. He let out a strained 'yeah' in response as he held his foot. She sat up, blinking her eyes to adjust to the darkness. "What are you doing?"

Carmen let out a loud huff before answering, "I was refilling your water." he said, his pain beginning to subside.

"Oh..alright." she still gave him a nod, knowing he couldn't see her.

"Yup."

Before she talked, she debated whether she should open her mouth. "I just wanted to thank you for being so nice to be tonight." her nose stung as she spoke, her glossy eyes flicking away from Carmen's silhouette.

"Hey it's fine." he reassured her quickly, "I don't know why you're getting emotional."

"Cause I'm drunk." she said bluntly, throwing her hands up in the air. There was a quick beat before she spoke again, "You're just so.."

Carmen hung onto her last words, waiting for what she was going to say.

"Just..so..stern." she said, laying back down. "I'm not used to seeing outwardly "nice carmen" that often, especially outside of the kitchen."

Her words felt like a slap in the face, leaving him wincing at the sting of aftermath. Is this what she really thought of him? Had he not came to her house to cheer her up? Was that not nice enough for her?

"It's my job to be stern. Compare what I've done to what you've done. It's not an insult just an observation ; stern gets you places." The words seem to fall out of his mouth, unable to catch them before damage was done. He let out a forced chuckle, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"Wow." was all she could say. She rolled to her other side, away from him. Gripping the blanket in her fist tightly, she tuned him out.

"I didn't mean it that way." he said quietly. He wanted to say more, he just didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry, Maggie."

He retreated back to the living room, closing the bedroom door behind him. He dug his nails into his palm, scolding himself. "Why the fuck would you say that?" he whispered to himself.

MORNING

"Yo!" Carmen yelled from the kitchen, attempting to wake Margaret up.

She grumbled, rubbing her eyes from the beams of light blinding her. Sunlight poured in through the slits in the curtains, creating lines of light on the bed. Looking around the unfamiliar room, Margaret began to grow nervous.

"Jesus christ." she said, quickly shuffling to the bathroom. She looked in the mirror, examining the smudged mascara under eyes. Her hair was a unbrushed mane of blonde curls, which was looking particularly messy today.

"Shit, shit, shit." she said, grabbing her dress from the ground. Throwing the dress over her shoulder, she walked out the room, brushing her finger through her hair as she went.

Carmen was in the kitchen, packing his bag for work she walked out. "You're gonna be late I take it?" he said, not looking up the counter.

"You can take it off my pay, I don't care." she spat, putting on her shoes quickly. He laughed, shaking his head. "You think this is funny?" she said, standing up with her bag.

"Hey, you're the one who decided to go get fucked up on a work night." he said, throwing his bag over his shoulder.

She shot him a glare, sneering as she walked past him. She didn't want to admit that he was right, she didn't want to give him that satisfaction.

She quickly walked down the hallway, wincing with each step she took. Her heels from last night had left blisters on the back of her ankles, "Stupid pieces of shit." she muttered under her breath as she pressed the '1' button in the elevator.

As she waited for the elevator to descend, she scrunched her eyes shut, lightly banging her head against the wall a few times in frustration. Feeling so pathetic for even coming to Carmen's apartment. Why didn't she go to Marcus' house? Hell, even Richie's house?

The elevator dinged, interrupting her thoughts. She walked out of the building, rushing down the few stairs that were at the entrance of the building.

"Did I fucking walk here?" she asked herself breathlessly. She looked around for any sign of her easily identifiable red car. She huffed, trying to find a taxi, but the street was pretty much empty.

"Need a ride?" Carmen said behind her. She balled her fists up at her side, not speaking or turning towards him. "You're gonna be even later to work." he got in his car, turning it on. He began to pull away slowly, maintaining eye contact with her hardened stare.

"Ok, fine. Wait!" she yelled, breaking her facade. She plopped herself into the passenger seat, buckling herself in.

"That's what I thought." Carmen said, pulling away from the curb. Margaret didn't bother making conversation, the comment from early that morning still eating at her.

"I said I was sorry." Carmen said, practically reading her mind through her facial expressions.

She just stared at the window, not acknowledging his apology. She knew it was childish, but that didn't stop her. He pulled up to the front of her apartment, harshly stepping on the brake.

She lurched forward a bit, the seat belt locking in place. Glaring, she unbuckled the seatbelt and got out of the car.

"Thanks for the ride." her words practically frigid with how unenthusiasticlly she spoke. She shut the door, a bit harder than she intended to, then walked away.

"Yup." Carmen said. He rolled the window back as he drove off the the restaurant.

"What the fuck happened to you?" Sydney asked as Margaret walked in. Her hood was up, hands shoved deep in her pockets as she sped walked through the kitchen.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence Syd." She breathed, setting her belongings into her locker. Tying her apron quickly around her waist, she walked over to her station.

"I took care of your prep." Sydney whispered to her as Carmen walked by. He kept his eyes straight ahead, paying no attention to the 2 girls.

"Oh Sydney.." Margaret faked a pout, then pulled Sydney into a quick hug. "Thank you."

The rest of the day was horrible for Margaret. She was off her game, moving slower than she'd ever moved before. Her hangover was hitting her now, her actions very clearly showing that.

As she cut the bread for the sandwiches, she felt a tight grip on her arm. She looked over, surprised by the sudden touch. It was Carmen, pulling her aside from the kitchen.

"Sweeps! Continue cutting the bread. It'll just be a second!" he called out into the kitchen, then focused his gaze on Margaret. "What's going on?"

She huffed, pulling her arm away from him, "I'm fine." she replied flatly.

He closed his eyes, drawing in a breath to keep himself composed, "You're moving slow as fuck. Why?"

"Chef, I'm fine." she said, walking away from him. Carmen should've fired her right there and then for how she acted. It was unacceptable, but he was low on staff, so firing her would've been a stupid decision. Margaret returned back to her station, thanking Sweeps for taking over.

She was finally allowed her break, which relieved some of her anxiety. She sat at one of the tables in the front since the restaurant was practically dead at that time. Her fork picked at her food, moving it around the plate as she ate. Resting her head on her hand, she robotically ate her late lunch.

Carmen watched her from behind the kitchen ledge, observing her state. Clearly the hangover mixed with her feminine need to be mad over nothing was affecting her greatly. "No." he thought to himself, "She did have some right to be mad at him."

He walked up to her, his breath drawing tighter with each step. Her eyes flicked up to him, pausing her eating. Carmen tossed a folded piece of paper on the table then walked to the kitchen.

She watched him leave, then grabbed the paper. As she opened it, she saw the words scribbled on it, "i'm sorry mags."

She immediately looked at the kitchen to search for Carmen, only to find that he was already staring at her. Without words, his body language asked "Are we good?"

She nodded, then began to clean up her plate and fork. As she walked into the kitchen, Carmen gave her shoulder a tight squeeze, "Thatta girl." he said.

She let out a quiet laugh, then continued through the kitchen. Setting her plates in the dishwasher, she returned to her station to cut bread.

"Chef." Carmen looked over his shoulder, watching her carefully cut the bread.

"Yes chef?" she replied, not looking up from her station.

"Look at me." he said quietly. His voice was low, just loud enough for her to hear.

She glanced up, meeting his gaze. "What?"

"Can you make the grocery list for me?" he asked, hitting his pen against the counter. His gaze was fixed on her doe eyes, never faltering.

She nodded her head, carefully setting down the knife. "Yes chef." She left to retreive a notepad and pen, finding a counter to lean over and write on. She wrote down the obvious basics like beef, broth, ingredients for bread, vegetables, etc. Eventually finishing up, she got from her spot and began asking each of the cooks if they had any requests.

"We could get some plantains." Tina suggested. She hit the ladle over the side of the pot, knocking some sauce off before she set it in the sink.

Margaret sighed, "Nothing in the menu requires plantains, Tina." she dropped the notepad and pen to her side.

"It was worth a try." Tina shrugged, returning back to her work.

Margaret turned to walk away, but she stopped herself. "What would you even make with plantains that would fit the menu?"

"Buttercream." Marcus said, the mixing machine whirring behind him.

"What?" Margaret said loudly, moving closer to him.

The machine hummed wildly, almost sounding like it was going to explode. "I said.." He yelled, then rolled his eyes. He turned around, switching off the machine then turned back to Margaret. "Buttercream. I need buttercream."

"Yes chef." she said as she scribbled on her notepad, walking away.

"Um.." Sydney paused, looking at the floor as she racked her brain for ideas. "I'm drawing blanks." she finally said, looking back up at Margaret.

"Well," Margaret closed the notepad, "Just let me know by the end of the day."

She tucked it her back pocket, then walked back over to her station. There was a small loaf of bread sitting on the cutting board, the knife placed next to it. The pile of loaves had dwindled while she was making the list, leaving barely work left to be done.

She picked up the bread in her left hand, holding it in her palm. As she went to cut it with the knife, it went right through the bread, slicing a large gash across her palm.

Someone had already cut the bread, but left it on the board.

"Fuck!" she yelled out. Her heart was racing as she felt her heartbeat in her hand. She grabbed one of the spare towels she kept in her apron pocket, wrapping it around her hand tightly.

Richie looked up from the register, taken aback by her sudden outburst. She never yelled, so it was a rare occasion. "Someone finally got a mouth." he laughed.

"Richie, fuck off!" she yelled back, the adrenaline taking over her body. She breathed heavily, backing up from the bread station.

"Hey, it's ok baby." Tina said from behind her. She unwrapped Margaret's already bloody towel, and replaced it with a clean one. Her hand pulsated, s bleeding heavily. The cut was around the same width as her palm and deep. Of course she had been in high-stress situations before but this was a raw kind of rush.

Carmen came out of his office quick, unaware of what had happened. He walked up to Tina and Margaret, eyes looking down at the bloody towel. His eyes flicked up to her tense face which was scrunched into a panicked expression.

"C'mere." He grabbed her other wrist gently, and guided her to the industrial kitchen sink. He turned the water on, lukewarm water spitting out. Slowly moving her hand under the water, this earned a sharp hiss to escape Margaret's body. "Shh, I know." he said quietly, trying to calm her.

She buried her face into her right shoulder, looking away from her hand. She let out a pained whimper, which caused to Carmen to glance at her. "Relax your hand for me." he calmly ordered, "There we go, unclench it.”

Richie hurried into the kitchen, peeking over Carmen's shoulder, "Margy, what the fuck happened?" he practically yelled, unintentionally shouting into Carmen's ear.

"Richie, shut the fuck up and back the fuck up." he harshly spat over his shoulder.

"Guys!" Tina said, rubbing Margaret's back in circles.

"Sorry sweetheart." Richie replied, taking a step back. Tina walked past him, smacking him upside the head and gave him a "mom" look.

Margaret whined into her shoulder, tears brimming her eyes. Carmen picked up on it, beginning to gently rub her forearm. "Just breathe. You're okay, you're good." he said softly.

She turned to face her hand, watching the water wash away the spilling blood. She could tell the cut was deep by the way the water stung her hand. Glancing at Carmen, she noticed he was still focused on her hand. He was intent on taking care of her, his words soft and his touch gentle. He didn't know exactly what came over him in the moment, but seeing her hurt turned him into a completely different person.

"There we go." he turned the water off, lifting her hand up. He grabbed a new towel from his pocket, wrapping it around her hand. "Let's go to my office, I think there's a first aid kit in there." He could practically hear her heart beating out of his chest.

She nodded, unable to form words, following Carmen to his office. She kept a tight grip on the towel, pressing down on the wound like she had seen in the movies. He pushed the door open, motioning for Margaret to sit down in the chair.

While she sat holding her hand, he rummaged through the filing cabinets until he found the first aid kit. He opened it, looking through the contents, pulling out a thick bandage and some type of wrap.

He leaned against his desk, "Give me your hand." he said as he opened a bottle of sterile saline solution. She listened, carefully unwrapping her hand from the towel.

She winced as she pulled the towel off, holding it awkwardly in her other hand. He carefully took her hand, resting it on his thigh. He squeezed some of the saline solution onto her palm, which coaxed another whimper from her.

"I know, I know." he said, peering down at her. Her eyebrows were knit together tightly, lips formed in a pout as her hand stung from the solution. He set the bottle down, swapping it out for the bandage.

His hands were wrapped around her forearm to keep her steady as he applied the bandage. His brows were pinched together in concentration as he started to wrap her hand. Margaret wanted to thank him in that moment, but she couldn't form the words. She felt almost suffocate, his sudden gentleness hypnotizing her.

Finishing up, he set the kit away, "I'm going to go finish closing with the others, you just wait in here. We'll see how your hand is when I finish closing." he said, leaving Margaret to her own devices in his office.

Margaret spent the last 15 minutes of closing, sitting in his office. Her leg bounced up and down rapidly, as her thoughts consumed her. What if she needed stitches? Did it need to be sewn up? She couldn't afford a hospital bill right now.

"I can't leave you alone for one second, can I?" Carmen's voice interrupted her thoughts.

She laughed quietly, "I mean, I'm okay. It's fine now." she said, playing with her hands.

"It's not okay. I can't afford for my chefs to be making mistakes like this." he motioned to her hand. "Lemme see it." he crouched to the floor, almost eye level with her.

Margaret extended her hand, allowing Carmen to examine it. He sharply inhaled, looking at the bloodied mess under the bandage. "Do you feel lightheaded?" he worriedly asked, eyes scanning over her.

"No, I'm okay." she assured him. He nodded his head response, applying a new bandage and wrapping it up.

"All good?" he asked, pushing himself back into an upright position. Margaret looked up at him, lips twisted into a worried pout. Her teeth chomped down onto her lip, hard, as she nodded her head.

Carmen could see that this had really shook her, clearly not a usual occurrence in her previous cooking jobs. He watched as she stood up, wiping her clammy hand on her apron.

"Thank you." she said quietly. Her big eyes flicked up at him, then away towards the door. She walked past him and to the lockers.

Breathe in.

Flower. Paintbrush. Tabby cat. California. Diner.

Breathe out.

She opened her locker, slowly taking off her apron and hanging it on the hook. As she threw on her jacket, Carmen joined her, opening his own locker.

"Night." Margaret said, walking away.

"Maggie.." Carmen breathed. She subconsciously bit down on her lip, knowing she'd chew through it by the end of the night. A nervous habit that had stuck with her since she was young. "You want to catch dinner sometime this week? You know, as an apology for what I said last night. Well technically this morning." he corrected.

She smiled at the ground, "You don't have to do that Carmen."

"Well I feel like I should." he said quickly after she finished her sentence.

She nodded her head, "I would like that."

END

sooo did we like this chapter?? i also apologize for any spelling mistakes because i literally never proofread my stuff 😇

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto headcanons #carmen berzatto one shot #carmen berzatto the bear #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto fluff #carmy the bear #carmy bear #carmy x reader #the bear one shot #the bear fanfiction #the bear hulu #the bear headcanon #the bear fandom #the bear

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loveforcarmen · 2 months

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𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 - CH. 7

- carmen berzatto x fem!oc coworker | - slowburn

NOTE: warning, this chapter contains out of character carmen 🤗

AN: hello, apologies for not updating for like 2 weeks?? anyways, enjoy this filler chapter and i apologize in advance for any spelling/grammar mistakes!!

single - the neighbourhood

As Margaret got ready, her stomach was filled with anxiety. She huffed, digging into her dusty blue makeup bag, pulling out a neutral eyeshadow pallet.

She blended a warm tone of eyeshadow over her eyelids, sitting propped on her bathroom counter, feet in the sink. After drawing a clean-cut black wing of eyeliner over it, she glued on some fake lashes. Just enough to enhance her eyes, not to overpower them.

She had never been one to wear much makeup, mostly due to the fact she worked in the back of the kitchen, not the front. It came as a surprise to see her glammed up like this ; she looked like a doll.

After scrunching some of her curl-defining mousse in her hair, she headed to her bedroom, preparing to tackle her closet to find the right outfit for dinner. She rotated through a variety of styles: a pantsuit, a two piece outfit, a SKIMS dress, etc.

She finally settled on a low cut, shimmery light gold dress that hugged around her waist perfectly. Pairing it with a pair of 1 inch clear platform heels, she added a gold heart necklace to complete the look.

As she paced back and forth in her kitchen, waiting for Carmen to knock, she nervously chewed on her lip. She would surely chew through the damn thing by the end of the night.

Knock. Knock.

Margaret perked her head up at the knocks, the hard wooden, hard wooden door reverberating within the door frame. She drew in a breath, composing herself before opening the door, "Hi." she greeted him with a warm smile, subconsciously crossing one leg in front of the other.

He wore an all black Hockerty suit, paired with a sleek pair of Florsheim leather brown shoes. His hair was worn in its usual style, a jumble of mess of curls on his head.

"This isn't a date. It's an apology dinner." he reminded himself. His eyes glided down Margaret, taking in her entire being. As much as he didn't want to admit, she looked fucking good.

"How do I look?" she gave him a playful spin, being careful not to trip over her heels. Her Tory Burch Reva leather clutch swung around with her body, hitting the doorframe with a thud.

He shook his head, "Let's go." he laughed, still in the doorway. His hand rested on each side, practically leaning into her apartment.

"You're no fun." she spat, grabbing her long, black coat off the hook by the door. Although it was spring, the nights still remained cold enough to require another layer.

As they walked through Chicago, the night sky was clear of clouds. Though it was impossible to see the stars due to the city lights, Margaret still craned her neck up at the sky. Her hand reached over, grabbing Carmen's forearm lightly as she walked.

Carmen looked down at her hand, taken aback by the sudden contact. "What's your thing with stars? I've noticed that you've had this infatuation for them since you started." he asked as they walked.

"Well," she looked back down, rubbing the back of her neck, "There was this saying my mother always told me." They rounded the corner to the L, walking up the steps that led to the elevated platform.

When they reached the top, she continued, "She always said 'you can find me in the stars, even when I'm not with you'. The meaning obviously carries more weight now but..." she waved her hands in the air as she spoke, "It sounds like a cringey quote but it truly means a lot to me."

Carmen solemnly nodded, not wanting to continue to press on the subject. The train loudly pulled up to the platform, stopping with a sharp hiss of smoke. The doors opened, traffic immediately started to funnel in and out. Margaret luckily found a seat near the door, nestling herself down.

Carmen stood in front of her, hands loosely holding the pole. Whenever he took the train, he tried to come in contact with everything as little as possible. Margaret sat with her legs tightly crossed, arms folded, attempting to take up as little space as possible. She noticed and older woman limping through the crowded car out of the corner of her eye. Swiftly standing up, she offered her seat to the woman.

"Thank you dear." the woman said, sitting down slowly. She sat with her brittle arms crossed, arthritic hands on her lap.

Margaret nodded her head, standing next to Carmen. "Do you mind if I just hold onto your arm?" she asked quietly. The trained started back up, torque causing everyone who was standing to slightly sway.

Carmen turned to her, gaving her a puzzled look but obeyed her request. She hooked her arm under his, linking tightly around his bicep. "Why?" he asked, almost in a whisper.

"Look to your right, a few seats down." she whispered back. Carmen slowly turned his head to see a man, sitting in the middle of the car floor. He was clearly on some type of drug, bothering the young women who were alone for pictures of various body parts. Hands, feet, calves, etc.

Carmen turned away from him, staring straight ahead, keeping the man in the corner of his eye. Margaret felt his grip on her tighten, just slightly. As the train moved on, their bodies swayed in unison with the movements of which ever direction they were headed.

Getting off at their stop, they walked only just a short distance to the restaurant. The conversation between them was light, not dwelling on the same topic for too long.

They arrived to the restaurant, Margaret greeting the host warmly as Carmen checked them in. The host walked them to a booth that was cozily tucked in the corner.

The establishment was intimidatingly high end to say the least.

The dining room had booths lining the walls while circular wooden tables took up the space unused space in middle. Angular chandeliers hung down the center of the room in a warm lighting. Along the wide back wall sat a rich, mahogany bar. Illuminated shelves sat behind the counter, housing a variety of liquors to choose from

After seating them, the host handed them each a menu, the front cover reading the name "The Albert" in pristine gold lettering. "Your server will be here shortly." the host said kindly, walking back to the entrance of the restaurant.

As Carmen and Margaret flipped through the extravagant menu, each dish more impressive than the next, she chewed on her bottom lip. She nervously looked at the prices, the last thing she wanted to do was allow him to drop a shit-ton of money on a meal he could easily make.

The server approached them, smiling warmly, "What can I get started for you?" she asked. "We can start off with drinks and appetizers, or we can jump right into the menu." She clasp her blue notepad tightly in her hand, pen at the ready.

Carmen looked over at Margaret, allowing her to take the reins. "I think we're gonna need more time with the menu, but we can order drinks now. Can I please get an Old Fashioned?" she asked politely.

"Of course you may," the server said, moving onto to Carmen. "And for you?" she looked up from her notepad, eyeing Carmen down.

"Hennessy please." Carmen said, looking up at the waitress. His voice was sultry with his reply ; Margaret didn't think it was intentional but it still struck a nerve with her.

"Yes sir," she batted her lashes at Carmen, "We'll get that out shortly."

"Ok." he quietly, waiting for her to leave. The server turned on her heel, walking back into the kitchen with their order. Carmen turned back to Margaret, "You ever been here before?" He clasped his hands in front of them on the table, straightening his posture.

She shook her head quickly, "Are you kidding? Hell no." She looked around the establishment, absorbing its large gradniuer. "Look at this place."

The drinks were eventually brung out, the food following shortly behind. The porcelain dishes were placed on the dark wood table, the food plated so creatively it could be considered art. Margaret had order a duck honey glaze with a spring onion and an alpine radish to top it. It was sided with mustard seed dollop spread, the sweet taste was paired perfectly with the acidic nature of the spread.

She took a bite, her expression widening with each chew. "This is the best thing I've ever tasted." she took another small bite, "No offense." she added, smiling up at Carmen.

He laughed, wiping his mouth off with a napkin, "Absolutely none taken." he adjusted in his seat, "I actually created this dish for this place." he said causally, taking another bite his food.

Her jaw figuratively hung slack, "I mean," she regained herself, straighting her posture in her chair, "It's not surprising. The dish is alright I guess." she took another bite, fighting back a playful smile.

"Just alright?" he recited, cocking his head slightly to the side. He too fought back a smile that was starting to creep across his lips.

Her gaze flicked to her plate as she answered, "Yup." she looked back up, taking another bite.

There was beat between them until Carmen spoke, "You ever think about making a dish for a restaurant?" he took a long sip of his drink, setting it down gently on the table.

"Absolutely not." she shook her head, holding her hand in front of her mouth as she chewed, "I don't think I'm creative enough for that. I'm no Sydney or Marcus."

"Eh, you'll get there. I got a feeling." he replied, looking down at his plate as he continued to eat.

She felt something odd grow inside of her at the sudden praise from him. Unable to help the smile that bloomed, she looked down at her plate in a weak attempt to conceal her joy. "Thank you."

The two spent the rest of the evening talking about mostly food. Slowly becoming buzzed from the liquor, Margaret felt her confidence growing. They began to critic the dishes that were sent out and took notes on how the place was ran. Intently listening to how orders were called out in the kitchen, how the servers operated, everything. They were getting along, with no issues. A stark contrast to their (usual) rocky relationship.

"Woah, I think that's enough for you." Carmen grabbed Margaret's glass before she could take another sip. She had grown quite tipsy, which was unfortunate for her since they had walked to the restaurant.

"But-" she started before being cut off by the server presenting the bill.

"How is the bill being paid?" she asked softly, looking over at Carmen as he signaled to himself.

"Carmen," Margaret said as she dug into her bag, pulling out her wallet.

"Maggie, no." Carmen said, not looking up from his wallet as he pulled the card out. He gave the server a small smile, then turned back to Margaret after she left.

"At least let me cover the tip." she said, her lips forming into a pert pout. Carmen stared at her, longer than anticipated then blinked rapidly before answering, as if he was trying to clear his head.

"I planned this. I'll pay." he leaned back in into the leather cushion of the booth, "I know the owner so I get a discount anyways. I made a fucking dish for their menu, a discount is the least they could do." Carmen said, sounding awfully pretentious. "I didn't mean it like that." he added, leaning back up.

The server returned with Carmen's card, then slipped him a note along with it. Carmen opened it under the table, unsure if Margaret saw it or not. It was her number, scrawled in messy Sharpie along with her name. Carmen looked back up to find her in the kitchen, only to see that she was already staring at him. She gave him a little wave, causing him to look away with rosy cheeks.

He wasn't used to being flirted with, so this came as a surprise to him. Growing up, he pretty much kept to himself and never got involved with the dating scene like most of his classmates.

Shortly after, Margaret and Carmen left the restaurant, beginning their trek to the L. The city was alive, which wasn't uncommon on a Friday night. Lights glowed in all directions, whether it be from cars or buildings.

"Margaret!" a male voice said from behind them. The pair stopped, lazily turning around to see who the voice belonged to.

"Matteo?" Margaret said in surprise, squinting her eyes as if he was far away. She walked over to give him a quick peck on the cheek, a custom in her family.

"How you doin, darling?" he asked, letting his hands fall to her waist, drinking in the sight of her. She looked absolutely delectable in her little gold dress, her gold necklace falling just before her cleavage.

"I'm great. Oh my gosh," she said sloppily, walking back over to put her hand on Carmen's shoulder, "This is my boss slash acquaintance, Carmen." she smiled at Carmen then looked at Matteo. "We just had dinner at.." she trailed off, looking over at Carmen for the answer.

"The Albert." Carmen finished for her, his voice cutting and mean. He sat with his gaze fixed on Matteo, staring hard at him.

"Yeah the Albert!" Margaret exclaimed, taking a step back to Matteo, "Carmen, this is Matteo by the way." she squeezed Matteo's shoulder, which coaxed a smile out of him. He glanced down at Margaret, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Carmen could see it plainly that he had it bad for the girl. The slightest touch from her was enough to plaster a stupid grin on his face. He watched as Matteo's hand snaked down to Margaret's waist, resting just above her ass.

"Are you guys doing anything?" he asked, barely giving Carmen a glance. As if he wasn't standing right fucking there.

"Um, I think we're both just going home." she smiled at him, unintentionally batting her lashes. She was fucking gone, logical thinking completely exiting her body in that moment.

"You could come back to my place, y'know." he said, finally giving Carmen a glance, "I can get her home, we live in the same building." he half suggested, half stated.

Carmen took a step towards Margaret, slowly pulling her away from Matteo, "Nah it's cool." he said, holding her firmly around the waist. "Let's go." he said softly to Margaret, walking away from Matteo.

"Don't be a stranger baby!" Matteo called, walking backwards from the 2, hands in his coat pockets. With his backed turned towards him, Carmen rolled his eyes at his pathetic attempt to hit on Margaret.

To say the least, it was a struggle trying to control drunk Margaret. Carmen was constantly apologizing for her actions to the poor people on the train and sidewalk who encountered her. It was quite annoying actually to him, as it continued after getting off the train. "Hey." Carmen backed her up, leaning her against a building. "Are you ok?" he asked sternly, annunciating each word.

Her voice was quiet, and her face—high cheekbones, sharp nose—was placid. "I'm perfect." she smiled up at him, her head spinning. She leaned to one side, relying on Carmen's strength to keep her upright.

He grabbed her arm, walking her over to a nearby bench as if she was child. His fingers pressed into the soft skin of her arms, growing tighter the more she resisted. "Sit." he demanded, pushing her down onto the bench.

Stubbornly, she sat down on the bench, resting her hands on her lap. Crouching down, Carmen began to slip off her heels, setting them in her lap.

"What are you doing?" she rhetorically asked. She looked down, eyes following Carmen as he pushed himself back up.

He turned around, hands slightly extended. "Get on." he said, his face turned away from her.

Confused but still obeying his request, she grabbed her heels in one hand then climbed onto Carmen's back. The warmth radiated from his body, keeping her warm from the nipping night air.

Her arms hung limp in front of his chest, swaying with his body as he walked. As Carmen strolled through Chicago, Margaret would point out memories from her adolescence, saying something along the lines of "That's where my dad crashed his car" or "That was my first job".

As they approached her apartment building, Margaret leaned her head against Carmen's back, arms still hanging lazily over his shoulders. "Hey." he poked her in her side, "Don't fall asleep just yet."

She grumbled, lifting her head up. "Home already?" she looked down at Carmen, her undereyes beginning to puff with sleep.

"What floor and apartment number?" he asked, turning his head as far as he could towards her. He could barely see her from the corner of his eye, only able to make out her blonde hair.

"216, floor 2." she said, reaching into her purse to hand Carmen the key. As he made his way up to her apartment, her weight became heavier and heavier, a sign that she was dozing off again.

He slipped the key into the lock, turning the rusted handle. It didn't budge so he tried again, ending up with the same results as before. "You got to wiggle it first." Margaret said softly, her lips brushing against his ear as she spoke. He swallowed a wad of spit, uncomfortable with their closeness.

But was it truly uncomfortableness he was feeling?

He wiggled the handle, then turned it again, opening the door this time. He nudged it open with his foot, walking inside of the small living space. Waking up Margaret with another poke, he slipped her off his back, making sure to hold her upright until she regained her footing.

"Thanks Carmen." she said, keeping herself up. She held onto Carmen's forearm for some support. She was close enough for Carmen to smell the honey and citrus in her hair, the scent bringing him a sense of serenity.

"Let's get you to bed." he said, ignoring her thanks. He needed to cut himself off from her and he needed to do it now.

Margaret turned on her heel, walking down the short hallway to her bedroom. Carmen trailed behind her, hands hovering at her sides in case she toppled over. "Yay round 2 of taking care of drunk Maggie" he thought to himself. This was a bad look for her, having to be taken care of by her boss not once but twice. Carmen repeated his routine of taking care of drunk Margaret, an exact repeat of when she spent the night at his house.

He put her to bed, carefully pulling the sheets up to her shoulders. He crouched down at the side of the bed, eye level with her. "I have a bucket right on the side of the bed in case you puke." he said quietly,his voice barely registering as a whisper.

Margaret's gaze darted to his lips then back to match his eyes, "You're a great boss Carmy." she softly smiled.

Pushing himself up off the ground, he looked down at her, "That's an overstatement." he dryly laughed.

Carmen walked over to flick off her small lamp when her voice spoke again, "Are you leaving?" she asked timidly.

Carmen felt his cheeks grow hot, the knot in his stomach swelling. He felt as if he was going to be sick, his gut twisting in every direction.

"I'll be on the couch."

With that, he closed the door behind him, leaving Margaret in her own thoughts. He shakily let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. Quickly walking to the sink, he turned it on, splashing the lukewarm water onto his face. He sighed into his hands, slowly dragging them down his face, allowing them to fall to his sides.

He grabbed the hem of his dress shirt, bringing it to up to dry his face off. The tips of his curls dripped water onto his forehead, agitating him. His chest began to close up as he drew in shaky breaths, breathing as if someone was clutching his throat.

"No, no, no." he whispered to himself, ripping open the collar of his shirt due to his increasing body temperature. The action caused a few buttons to fly off, landing on the kitchen floor. "Shit." he said aloud, collecting them quickly.

He gathered his suit jacket, tucking it under his arm as he left her apartment. He hurried down the flights of stairs, harshly pushing the doors open. He stepped into the cold night air, breathing heavily. Stopping at the entrance of the apartment, he rested his hands on his head, slowly walking down the street.

He didn't have time to have feelings for someone. No matter how he felt, it just couldn't happen. He was better off having Margaret hate him than have her feel any other emotion towards him.

Carmen pushed it out of his mind as he shoved his hands in his pockets, hurrying down the street to his apartment.

END

AN: omg rereading this, i realized how nasty this chapter is wtf

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