1 with Carlos or 5 with Fernando. Or maybe both if you can find inspiration 🤭
CS55 x 'You say you want to get over me?” “Yes.” “So why haven’t you?” “Because it’s you. Because whatever you do, I’m gonna come back to you, no matter what. And I’m trying so hard not to do that but… It’s you. It’s just you. You’re the reason why I can’t get over you.'
I'm in love with the smooth operator, your honour.
You knew the fifth shot was a bad idea. By the ninth? Your mind could barely correlate the link between your feet and the floor.
You hadn’t been to Monaco in so, so long. The last time you came was on vacation with your ex boyfriend; it had been a weekend of walks, champagne, slow dancing and secret sex on his teammates boat. Charles would never forgive you for that one, his precious yacht had been christened in more ways than one.
Charlotte had caught you by storm; a few phone calls and a promise of a night out so incredible, it would render every other evening numb, you’d been on a plane instantly, falling into your close friends arms, surrounded by a gaggle of girls, cooing about how you were glowing after…recent events.
The night in question had been what Charlotte promised; loud music, screams and cheers whilst dancing in a group, even chatting to the occasional stranger about the busy streets. However, one cocktail had turned into two, two into three…it was always a slippery slope where expensive drinks and shots were involved.
The brunch you had all booked for the next day seemed well out of question.
Three of the girls had already vanished; presumably heading home with different men, possibly with one another. Charlotte was gossiping with two girls sat on a table. She’d beckoned you over, but instead you’d wandered away; drunken mind mesmerised by lights.
You would have probably wandered right out into the cool streets of Monaco, if a body hadn’t collided with yours. A light whine emitted from your lips, looking up, ready for a drunken apology to stumble out of your lips. Instead, your mouth hung open, breath caught from seeing those brown eyes. Those you were oh-so-familiar with.
“Carlos.” You whisper, a slight sway still in your step. You had to be drunk, blackout drunk, to be seeing the figure of your ex-boyfriend stood in front of you. Frozen in your spot, the trance was broken when a figure appeared from behind him, eyes brightened to see you.
“Hey! Charlotte mentioned you were with her!” Charles calls out, grin resting on his face. “I came to get her- Carlos is visiting us for a few days.”
Your mind couldn’t put the pieces together in that moment. Charlotte, your supposed best friend, had made sure you came to visit whilst Carlos was in Monaco. If you didn’t know her better, you’d say she was playing matchmaker, even after your intense speech of how adamant you were to get over the spaniard.
“Yeah- she’s-“ You can’t get your words out, too drunk to comprehend any form of communication. Charles nods to his friend, silently hoping despite it all, he’ll stay with you whilst he goes to find his own intoxicated girlfriend.
Carlos is nothing, if not a gentleman. Gently, he rests a hand on your lower back. The warmth radiates through the sheer silk of your dress. He thinks you look beautiful like this. Hair messy, makeup smudged, the lines on your face from how much you had been laughing alongside your friends.
“Let’s get you outside.” He speaks above the thump of the music deeper inside the club. “You need some air.”
The cold air dances across your skin the moment the two of you step out from behind the heavy doors. Carlos is already tinted a light shade of red from being inside the room for less than five minutes. His eyes scan over you, arm held out as you tentatively cling to it, stumbling like a baby’s first step.
Carefully, the man leads you away from the direct entrance, giving you some space between the crowds of people. The cold air and movement gives into a sudden wave of nausea. Your body can’t control it, leaning over to the side of the road, trying your hardest not to make a mess.
A gentle sigh is heard from behind you, soft hands holding your hair back, a warm hand on your shoulder. The comfort, you don’t deserve it.
You eventually pull yourself back up, turning to thank the man in question. However, before you can say anything, one arm is resting around your waist, keeping you from stumbling, the other is resting on your cheek, his thumb gently stroking over you.
“Why do you do this to yourself?” He murmurs, eyes soft, seeing the girl he cares so deeply for in this position. “Why?”
“Trying.” You mumble in response. “Trying to stop thinking about you.”
Carlos isn’t aware of Charlotte’s plan. When she had mentioned going out with you that evening, he had thought you were in Monaco as a happy accident. He had intended to come and see you, maybe ask if you’d like to go out for a drink. Maybe when he did, he’d change the idea to coffee. Alcohol didn’t seem to be the best idea anymore.
“You say you want to get over me?” He mumbles, face closer to you, trying to find some emotion in your eye.
“Yes.”
“So why haven’t you?”
“Because it’s you. Because whatever you do, I’m gonna come back to you, no matter what. And I’m trying so hard not to do that but… It’s you. It’s just you. You’re the reason why I can’t get over you.”
The sudden explosion of words from your hazarded mind causes a trigger inside you. Tears begin to litter your lower lash line. Carlos has always hated seeing girls cry, especially those he cares about. Without thinking, he pulls you into his chest, quiet hushes, one hand brushing across the back of your head.
“Don’t get over me.” He pleads, his own voice cracking. “Don’t. Because I could never get over you.”
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