The reason endermen donât like it when you look at them is because they communicate telepathically with one another by locking eyes! Humans are absolutely not designed to do this so when we look at them we are accidentally projecting all of our thoughts into them at the same time and it hurts :(
how dare you interrupt my tumblr oneshot fanfic reading time? i literally need to have my tumblr oneshot fanfic reading time. why would you interrupt my tumblr oneshot fanfic reading time?
reblog to give a mutual a full body massage a margarita 400mg of ibuprofen a plate of brownies at least an hour in a jacuzzi and 20,000 dollars in cash
"How do you write such realistic dialogue-" I TALK TO MYSELF. I TALK TO MYSELF AND I PRETEND I AM THE ONE SAYING THE LINE. LIKE SANITY IS SLOWLY SLIPPING FROM BETWEEN MY FINGERS WITH EVERY MEASLY WORD THEY TYPE OUT. THAT IS HOW.
So as the inevitable rumbles on this week following Austria, something is very striking to me.
Lando and McLarenâs comments after were calm and considered.
Max and Red Bullâs have been as if they are starting a war. The defences are up, Christian Horner acting as if Lando was chasing Max round the track with a hand grenade. When Helmet Marko is the only one making sense, we are all doomed!
I think that gives you a little insight into the real problem. One team is confident and the other is panicked. And it reminds me of Toto when Red Bull caught them up.
THATâS WHAT IM SAYING!!!! Theyâve brought the war to Maxâs back door. Lando is The Man in The Woodsâ˘ď¸. Theyâre feeling McLaren breathing down their neck. Landoâs gotten in to their heads, and, as you said, theyâre panicking. Theyâre making rash decisions in a state of panic bc Maxâs title for 2024 is now at stakeâŚ. Freaking mind games time. When you get in someoneâs head like that, they get panicked and make mistakes. When they make mistakes, they leave that window for someone else to swoop in.
(insert a picture of maniacal chuckling and villianary here)
summary: you are the master at sneaking things into the grocery kart, only this timeâŚsomeone is watching
warnings: none very fluffy and domestic charles
a/n: thank you all for the cute little ideas iâm gonna work through them, i hope you enjoy these little blurbs!!
Grocery shopping was something you and Charles loved to do together, ever since you moved in together, and even when you both still lived in your respective homes; it was a tradition for you two almost.
Another thing you were good at was sneaking extras into the cart, whether it was your favourite candies or a little package of double chocolate chip cookies, luckily enough for you Charles never seemed to notice.
Until today.
âChĂŠrie, what kind of apples do you want this week?â
You hummed for a second, having just sneakily added a package of cookies to the cart, your eyes then moving up to look at your fiancĂŠ who narrowed his stare onto you.
âOh um letâs just get the honey crisp again! Those were really good last timeâ
Charles didnât say anything before grabbing a few apples and placing them into your little fabric fruit bag, the bag youâd started to force him to use to avoid all the plastic use.
âOkay, we just need milk and then we are good to goâ
Nodding you hooked your arm through Charlesâs and walked towards the dairy section, not before subtly grabbing a pack of gummy bears and trying to hide them under the bushel of bananaâs that had just been laid down minutes earlier.
It wasnât until after youâd gotten the milk and some yogurt that Charles stopped by the cash register, a slight smirk on his face.
âSo are we forgetting anything?â he asked softly
âNope, everything is checked off on the list!â
âReally?â
You raised a brow looking at him and shrugged, showing him the crumpled up grocery list
âYeah, see I checked it all offâŚis there something weâre forgetting?â
âWell I just noticed something funnyâŚâ
Charles kept his eyes on you, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he pulled out the cookies, gummy bears and the little box of truffles youâd slipped into the cart.
âItâs funny because I didnât see these on the listâŚâ
âWhat! Oh well how did they get in there! Must have flown off the shelf!â
Charles couldnât hold his laugh back at your fake shock, it was something he loved about you, how youâd get so animated and pretend as if you didnât do something: you both knew you most definitely did.
âSo I didnât see you sneakily place these in the cart over our trip here?â
âCharles! I think youâre seeing things, should we go see a doctor?â
Biting back a smile you tried hard not to crack nor laugh, but as Charles pulled you in for a hug and pressed a kiss to your forehead, you sighed, finally breaking.
âAlrightâŚyou caught meâŚi just wanted some sweetsâŚâ
âWell you didnât have to sneak them mon amour..â
You shrugged
âItâs more fun that way! Plus you never notice!â
At the look on thĂŠ MonĂŠgasqueâs face your mouth dropped open
âYouâve known?!â
âEvery year since we started datingâŚâ
Now it was your time to laugh, all of this time youâd thought heâd never noticed your additions to the weekly groceries, when in reality heâd known everytime for the past 5 years.
âLetâs just say donât become a spyâŚyouâre not very good at hiding thingsâ
âHey!â
Pressing one last kiss to your forehead the two of you made your way to the cash to check out and pack all of your things up to go home. Even if you werenât a good spy, and Charles did know when you snuck extras in, heâd never say anything, in fact he loved that you did it.
Because half the time, heâd want the same sweets as you, heâd just never admit itâŚ.not now at least.
Summary: After ending your five-year relationship, you find out your beloved Aunt left you her small Ranch out in the country. Desperate to get away from the city, you happily up and move several states away for a fresh start. What happens when you find out your new neighbor is a hot single dad? (Court and Claire have taken on their new life of father & daughter after the events of the movie and settled down on a ranch.)
Warnings: Court being a sexy Cowboy, Claire meddling in Court's love life, and mentions of a deceased family member.
Word Count: 4k
A/N: I haven't posted anything in FOREVER, and honestly....I have missed it. The new photos of Ryan have inspired me to write a fic (that will probably turn into a series) about Cowboy Court. I hope you all love this as much as I enjoyed writing it!!
As you stepped out of your car, you sucked in a deep breath of fresh air. It was so much different than the city air you had been breathing for the last five years. There was none of the usual exhaust fumes, cigarette smoke, and the lingering smell of fast food from two blocks away here. You cast your gaze over the home your aunt had left you when she passed. It had been years since youâd been here, and it looked like it had been quite a while since anyone had. The house wasnât in total disrepair, but it was clear that no one had lived here in the three years your aunt was in assisted living. The wooden steps beneath your feet creaked as you climbed them, the railing wobbly when you placed your hand on it. Your nose scrunched in disgust as you had to bat away a few cobwebs, thankful that there werenât any spiders on them at the time. You dug your new set of keys out from your purse and pushed it into the lock. A smile crept across your face as the lock twisted easily, but when you simply pushed on the door to open, it wouldnât budge.Â
After putting all of your weight against the door, you nearly barreled through it into your auntâs foyer. Well, you supposed it was yours now. As you maneuvered into the living room, a sneeze overcame you. Wow, you were going to have to put dusting at the top of your list. All of your auntâs furniture sat right where she left it, just coated in a heavy layer of dust. The style wasnât exactly to your taste, but it was better than having nothing. Sure, you had some furniture back in the city, but it was easier just to leave it there. Those pieces held too many memories that you wanted to forget, and it made it easier to move several states away without any help. After all, with your aunt gone now, all you had was, well, you.Â
As you explored the house, grimacing at the state of a few rooms, you found yourself back in the kitchen. It was going to be difficult, but this fresh start was exactly what you needed. Leaning yourself against the sink, you gazed out the window in front of you. Your auntâs land wasnât ginormous by any means, but there was a stable for horses, a small barn, and plenty of fenced in yard. In the distance, you could see a man on a horse. You assumed that must be your new neighbor. He was too far away to notice much, but the cowboy hat on his head and tan leather jacket that covered his broad shoulders was enough to intrigue you. The sudden sound of a knock on your door pulled you from your staring.Â
âIâm coming,â you called out as you made your way back to the foyer. You certainly werenât expecting any visitors, but you figured it was probably the wife of the man you had just been ogling from a distance. However, when you opened the door, you were greeted by a girl who looked no older than sixteen.Â
âUh, hello,â you greeted.Â
A wide smile was spread across the girlâs face. âHi! Iâm Claire, your new neighbor.â She gestured towards the land besides yours, and for the first time you noticed the plate of cookies in her hand. âCan I come in? I made these for you.âÂ
You let a smile grace your features as you nodded and took a step back. âOf course, come on in.â As Claire stepped into your home, you felt the need to apologize for the state of it. âIâm sorry itâs such a mess.â You began as you led her towards the kitchen.Â
Claire shook her head, cutting you off. âNo, itâs okay. No oneâs been here in years.â She glanced around as she followed you. âI actually met your aunt right before she went into assisted living about three years ago.â She admitted. âShe was a really nice lady.âÂ
You nodded your head solemnly as you thought of your recently deceased family member. âYeah, she was.â A wave of guilt washed over you as you wished you had visited her more often, or you know, at all. But, you were busy living your life and always put it off.....You called her monthly, sometimes weekly, but you never stepped foot onto a plane to come and visit. You always thought youâd have more time. Sadly, youâve found out that isnât how life works.Â
It was like Claire felt the shift in you and decided to talk about something else. âItâs nice to have a new neighbor. It gets lonely out here sometimes.âÂ
That caught your attention. Surely, a girl her age must have friends. You furrowed your brows as you looked her over. âLonely? How so?âÂ
Claire set the plate of cookies down on the dusty counter. You made a mental note that you really needed to get started on cleaning. The younger girl then shrugged her shoulders. âWell, itâs just me and my dad, and heâs fairly protective. Iâm homeschooled, so I donât get out much.â She admitted.Â
A frown pulled at the corner of your lips. âMm, I suppose fatherâs are always good at that, arenât they?â You questioned rhetorically as you thought of your own father. Vaguely recalling when you were her age and how your father wouldnât let you stay out past nine oâclock.Â
Claire nodded in agreement as she absentmindedly brushed a finger across the countertop. âIs it just you moving in?â She asked curiously, her head tilting to the side as she eyed you over.Â
Something about the look in her eyes made you a bit uneasy, like she was sizing you up. Whatever for, you had no clue. You shifted your weight onto your other leg as you nod. âYeah, just me. My aunt was the only family I had left, and, uh, Iâm newly single.â You explained very briefly.Â
âNewly?â Claire prodded on that last piece of information you gave.Â
You blew out a puff of air. Did you really need to be telling your sob story to a sixteen year old? You were silent for a moment as you contemplated. The look in her eyes made her seem older, and she had been nice thus far. What did it hurt? Other than perhaps your ego for your first new friend being a teenager.Â
âUh, yeah. I found out my boyfriend of five years had been cheating on me, shortly after I learned about the death of my aunt.â Shrugging your shoulders, you continued. âSo, I packed up everything that truly mattered, and I came here.âÂ
Claire scrunched up her nose in disgust. âUgh, men.âÂ
You couldnât help but laugh at that response. âMy thoughts exactly.â You agreed with a heavy sigh.Â
Claire looked around the room for a moment before something in the window caught her eye. âWell, Iâll leave you to unpack. If you need any help, just give me a call, yeah? And if you need help with repairs, my dad had to fix a lot of stuff when we first moved into our house. Iâm sure he can help.â She extended the offer as she pulled out her phone and asked for your number. Once your contact was safely in her phone and she had sent you a text, she let herself out of your back door.Â
You moved to the sink and watched as she wandered off towards what must have caught her eye. The man you had seen earlier, her father, was at the edge of your property on his horse, staring at your house. That is, until he spotted Claire and his head turned to acknowledge her. You couldnât tell what they were saying, but the tanned man in the cowboy hat gave your house one last look as Claire hopped up onto the horse to join him before riding off towards their home.Â
Once they were out of your sight, you turned to face the disaster of a house you now owned and heaved a sigh. It was time to start hauling all of your things in and pick a room upstairs to call your own. Then, you would get started on dusting.Â
Morning came all too soon for you after staying up late last night dusting every inch of the house. But, at least you wouldnât have a sneezing fit every time you entered a room anymore. It really wasnât all that early, but with the long days of travel, emotional and physical baggage youâd been carrying, you felt as if you could sleep all day. However, you had too much work to do for that. So, you pulled yourself from bed and got dressed into some casual clothing. A white tank top and denim shorts, something to keep you cool while you clean.Â
After taking care of getting yourself ready, you made your way down to the kitchen. Sadly, your aunt didnât even have an old-fashioned coffee pot and you begrudgingly accepted that you would have to make due without any caffeine. This wasnât the city, and there was no easy way to doordash your morning fix. You heaved a sigh and made your way to the kitchen sink, intending to twist the knob and turn on warm water. But, it was stuck. You sighed again in frustration, wondering how many things in this house were going to require more strength than you possessed in order to work. You beared down harder on the knob, and felt a streak of pride as it finally turned. That is, until the knob came off right in your hand.Â
âYouâve got to be kidding meâŚâ You stared at the handle in disbelief for a moment before the sound of rushing water reached your ears. Dumbfounded, you stared at the faucet. There wasnât any water coming from it. Where was itâŚ? Oh no.Â
Realization hit as you hurriedly bent down to rip open the cabinet beneath the sink. There was water gushing fromâŚ.somewhere. You werenât a plumber and without caffeine your brain still felt like mush. You cursed, several times actually, and then began to panic. You tried twisting the other knob to the sink, but it did absolutely nothing. At least it didnât break off like the other, though. You had no idea where the water shut-off valve was in the house and you stood helplessly as you watched your kitchen floor begin to flood.Â
Come on, do something! You thought to yourself, trying to come up with a plan. Towels. Finally, there was an idea. Surely your aunt had to have a spare linen closet around here, right? You frantically searched for one until you found it near the mud room, grabbing as many linens as you could carry and rushing back to the kitchen. Unfortunately, the water had spread since you had left, and you slipped, landing on the hard linoleum floor. The towels you were carrying also fell, at least beginning to soak up the water. As you slowly rose to your feet, your white tank top and shorts now soaked, you realized the towels were hardly helping the problem. Grabbing your phone, you called the only person you could think of.Â
Claire.Â
It was answered on the second ring. âHello?â Came the familiar voice of the girl you had met just yesterday.Â
âClaire!â You exclaimed in relief. âDo you know any plumbers? I think a pipe burst in my kitchen sink and itâs gushing water and I have no idea where the shut-off is.â You rambled out frantically.Â
âIâll go get my dad, heâll be right there!âÂ
You shook your head, that wasnât what you had asked. âNo, waitââ you began to protest, but the girl had already hung up.Â
Claire must work fast, because you swore it was only a matter of minutes before you heard a knock at your front door. Your feet carried you as fast as you could without slipping on the hardwood floors of the house. You were going to have to throw your shoes outside to dry after this. As you slung open the front door, you stopped in your tracks.Â
Wow. You knew Claireâs father was handsome even from a distance, but you didnât expect him to be this handsome. He was a bit older than you, but he had to be, to have a daughter that was Claireâs age. The only thing that gave away his age, though, were the fine lines he had begun to develop on his brow and around his eyes. His short, blonde, hair was messy without a single strand of gray insight. He mustâve come from working in the yard because his white t-shirt that fit him perfectly was slightly dirty, his arms and face were covered in a bit of dirt and dust, along with a thin sheen of sweat. As your eyes trailed down his form, you noticed the toolbelt he wore around his waist, and the new pipe that he held in his tattooed hand. You only caught a glimpse of his brown cowboy boots before he cleared his throat to gain your attention. Shit, had you really been staring for that long?Â
You rose your eyes to meet his keen blue ones as you felt heat rush to your cheeks. He was staring directly at your face. Maybe, if you hadnât been so distracted, you mightâve noticed it was because your top was completely see-through from being soaked.Â
âI, uh, heard youâve got a leak?â His smooth voice graced your ears, and successfully pulled you back to the issue at hand.Â
You moved away from the door so that he could enter, gesturing for him to come inside. âYes, a big one,â you answered hurriedly. As he stepped inside, you saw his horse waiting for him in your front lawn. Ah, that was how he got here so quickly.Â
You didnât need to show him where the kitchen was. He either was smart enough to have an idea, as you assumed all of the old houses out here were set up similarly, or he followed the sound of water. He let out a curse under his breath as he saw what he was faced with. âYeah, thatâs a big one alright,â he agreed with your earlier sentiment before dropping down to his knees and immediately getting to work.Â
Within seconds, his tee was completely soaked like yours. But, it didnât seem to bother him. His hands were moving faster than you could comprehend, using his pure strength to unscrew the pipe that was broken so that he could get the new one installed. He let out a few grunts as he worked, and all you could do was lean yourself against the island and watch. The muscles in his arms bulged as he exerted his strength against the pipe. His slightly tanned skin was on full display now that his shirt was transparent, and you could even make out a bit of the tattoo he had on his chest. Your eyes happily drank in the sight of his chiseled torso. At this moment, you were almost thanking your ex for cheating on you and your aunt for leaving you this house because without all of those things coming together, you wouldâve never been able to experience this. An attractive, hard working man at work. Your eyes drifted from his torso to take in the gruesome scar he had on his left arm, curious to know how that came to be.Â
What felt like an hour to your daydreaming self, was really only a matter of minutes before Claireâs father had your leak fixed. Or, at least, one of them. You couldnât help but realize the sight before you, and the grunting sounds he let out whilst working, had awakened something within. Something you hadnât felt in a long time. And you didnât even know his name.Â
Movement pulled you from your thoughts, and you realized that he was coming out from underneath the sink. You had to act as if you hadnât been gawking at him this entire time, and instead stared at the floor that was covered in soaked towels. The sound of running water pulled your attention back to the sink, and you found that he was also staring at the faucet that was still running. Right, the knob broke too.Â
He gave a nod as he realized the next issue. âRight, well at least itâs not flooding your kitchen anymore.â He turned his head to look at you briefly before looking back to the faucet. âI probably have a spare around, if not, Iâll run out and grab one.â He explained with a simple shrug of his shoulders.Â
You were quick to shake your head. âYou donât need to do that,â you began. âI can run out to the store and grab one.â You glanced down at yourself, finally realizing that you had put on a hot pink bra this morning and your still-soaked tank was completely transparent. â....Right after I change.â You felt heat creep up your neck once more as embarrassment overcame you.Â
When you glanced back over at him, he was quick to avert his eyes. âReally, I donât mind. Your aunt was very nice to Claire and I when we first moved in. She personally made us about a weekâs worth of food, I think.â He explained, letting out a chuckle.Â
You bit down on your bottom lip. That certainly sounded like something your aunt would do, and if this attractive man wanted to help you as a repayment, then you supposed you could oblige. âFine, Iâll accept your help. On one condition.â You paused, watching as he rose a brow at you, urging for you to go on. âYou tell me your name so I donât have to call you Claireâs father.â You finished with a grin.Â
A smile of his own crossed his features and those wrinkles in the corner of his eyes deepened. âYou can call me Court.âÂ
âThank you, Court, for saving my entire house from being flooded.â You spoke with a laugh as you looked down at your kitchen floor.Â
âIâm just sorry I couldnât stop it before the kitchen flooded,â he responded. âSpeaking of, do you wanna go get changed and Iâll help you clean up before I fix the faucet?âÂ
You glanced down at yourself once more, and with a moment of confidence, you shook your head. âNo, Iâm sure youâve already seen it, so what does it matter?â You asked rhetorically. âBesides, it wouldnât really be fair for only one of us to be wet, now would it?âÂ
Court paused to look at you, seemingly analyzing your choice of words. You watched as his eyes flashed down to your chest before he shook his head. âI suppose not.â He spoke, moving to pick up the water-logged towels on the floor.Â
A few minutes into picking up the strewn about linens and you heard Court curse.
 âShit.âÂ
You turned to look at him, worry in your brow. âWhat?â You questioned.Â
âA piece of your linoleum was lifted up, water got all underneath.â There was a pause. âIâm gonna have to replace your floor.âÂ
âShit,â you echoed.Â
âYeah. Iâll do it tomorrow.â He stated nonchalantly.Â
You stopped in your tracks. Here this man was, a stranger, really, volunteering to spend a day replacing your flooring? âCourt, really, you donât have to. I can hire someone to fix it.âÂ
Court shook his head. âItâs not a problem. Like I said, your aunt was a nice lady.âÂ
âShe was so nice that youâd spend an entire day of labor replacing her nieceâs kitchen floor?â You asked in disbelief. If this were the city, youâd never find a man offering to replace your flooring for free.Â
Turning his head to finally look at you, Court smirked. âFor her niece thatâs as pretty as you? Yeah, Iâd do a lot of things.âÂ
Any retort you could think of making died on your tongue and Court went back to picking up linens with that smug smirk on his face. You felt as if your brain had short-circuited. Did he just flirt with you? After a moment, you shook yourself out of your stupor and resumed picking up the towels.Â
The two of you carried your heaping piles of soaked towels to the mud room, where you began loading up the washer. As Court stood there watching you, you turned towards him.Â
âCan I at least make you and Claire dinner tonight to show thanks?â You canted your head as you awaited his response.
Courtâs tongue darted across his lower lip. âIâll allow it.â He agreed with a nod, then motioned towards the hallway with his head. âIâll be back soon to fix your faucet, alright?âÂ
You nodded, watching as he turned and left. After you heard your front door close shut, you placed your head in your hands. Your life felt like an absolute train wreck at the moment, but somehow you knew it was only going to get better. Your aunt always swore moving out here would be better for you than your life in the city. You didnât used to believe her, but after today? You were starting to realize she mightâve been right.
Now, you need to plan for dinner. Fuck. Why didnât you ask him what his favorite food was? You have no idea what to make. Slapping yourself on the forehead, you let out a groan before making your way up to your bedroom to get changed.Â
âEasy, girl.â Court called to his horse as he pulled on the reins. She slowed her trot to a halt by his house, allowing him to slip off from the saddle. As he made his way inside of the home, his thoughts solely on the new girl next door, Claire was waiting for him.Â
âSo, did you fix her sink?â She asked, startling him from his thoughts.Â
Jesus, he thought. He was really losing some of his skills if he let Claire startle him over a woman. He clicked his teeth and nodded, trying not to seem interested. The last thing he needed was Claire meddling in his love life. Heâd been lucky thus far by keeping her home so often that she never met anyone she could set him up with. But that never stopped her from constantly suggesting it.
âYeah, mostly. I stopped the leak, but a knob is broken and I need to replace it. Some water got under her flooring.â He explained as he moved towards his bedroom to find dry clothing. âIâll have to replace that tomorrow.âÂ
Claire followed right behind him, the idea of personal space diminishing over the years they had lived together. She wouldnât enter his room if he was changing, but sheâd be right outside of the door, continuing the conversation she started.Â
âSo, youâll be seeing her again tomorrow?â Claire wondered aloud. There was something in her tone of voice that set off alarms in Courtâs head. But he tried to ignore it. If he called her out on it too soonâŚ.
âYeah, and sheâs making us dinner tonight.â He added on with a huff as he stripped himself of his shirt and pants. Then began rummaging around for new ones in his closet.Â
âThatâs great! I knew youâd like her.â She called smugly from the other side of the door.Â
Courtâs brows furrowed as he tossed his new shirt over his torso and closed the distance between him and the door. He opened it wide enough to peek his head out and level his gaze with Claire.Â
âWho said anything about liking her? Sheâs doing it as a thank you.âÂ
Claire stared blankly up at him. âBut sheâs pretty, isnât she?â She questioned, as if that were the only important matter.
Court didnât respond. He simply shook his head at her antics and shut the door in her face. He wasnât giving her the satisfaction of the truth.Â
âDeny it all you want, but you just wait! Youâll be telling me Iâm right before long.â She called out teasingly as Court retreated further into his room to put on pants.Â
God help him with that girl. She wasnât going to rest until she was right. For once though, he might not have much of a problem with that.
a/n - saw a tiktok yesterday of the boys doing a cover of 'Watch Me' by Labi Siffre, and immediately made my brain Sam's problem by sending her a fluffy ass idea that had popped into my head... this is the result of that thought âĄ
ps. I finished this at like 4:15 this morning, so if you see a grammar and/or spelling error⌠no you didnât
It was quiet in the house, the only source of sound coming from you as you washed the dishes.Â
You hadnât realized just how far into your head you had fallen, watching through the kitchen window as a small squirrel journeyed around your backyard, until you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist. Your ears perked up at the sound of quiet humming as Josh shuffled himself as closely as he could against your back. His lips brushed against the back of your ear, and you let out a breath you hadnât been aware you were holding.
âWatch me when you call my name. See me sparkle, see me flame.â
A smile came to your face at the sound of his voice.
âSinging a song, playing a game. Oh, I'm so glad you cameâ
âArenât you supposed to be on vocal rest?â
His grip on you loosened only long enough to spin you around to face him, and he simply held a finger to his lips as he continued to sing.Â
âWatch me when you look my way. See me smiling, be my night and day.â
His hands left your waist, wrapping around your own hands and lifting one to his shoulder before returning his to your waist, and keeping the other hand entwined with his, and he began to slowly sway.
âTouch me in your own sweet way. Feel me tremble, you take my words away.â
You could hear the smile on his face as he sang, gently swaying the two of you back and forth in the kitchen of your shared home. There was a subtle rasp in his tone, a strain he only felt after a long stint of shows, barely noticeable to most, but it was there. Your head relaxed, softly pressing against his. âYou need to rest, Josh.â
He let out an airy chuckle, slowing your movements to a near stop as he leaned back to properly look at you. âWould you hush for a few minutes and let me sing to you, please.â
âI guess.â A playful roll of your eyes punctuated your response, and Josh simply smiled and pulled you closer once again.Â
âAll of the time, I love youâ
The side of his nose brushed against yours as he began to sway, and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth, followed by a trail of kisses along your jawline, until his lips finally ghosted over the shell of your ear.
âMake you a rhyme, I love youâ
The hand Josh had placed on your waist remained, for the most part, unmoving, with the exception of his thumb. You felt the soft pressure of his thumb, gently rubbing back and forth over the worn out cotton of your tee shirt.
âSay it in mineâ
He lifted the hand he still held in his own, placing it on his waist before lifting his newly freed hand to your cheek. He put only enough distance between the two of you to look each other in the eyes, and though you could only just barely see his mouth, you could tell that both corners were turned up in a dopey grin.Â
âWatch me when I'm on my own, see me falling like the snow. Come and be the things you are. I'm still falling, but not quite so far.â
The last few words became mumbled as Josh pressed his lips against your own in a tender kiss, a kiss you only parted from when you felt your lungs stutter for breath. You remained like that, parted only far enough to draw breath, for as long as it took for each of you to catch your breath⌠and a few seconds following that, just to grin at each other like lovesick idiots.
âOkay, now itâs time for you to actually relax and do your vocal rest.â Though he chuckled at your statement, he nodded in agreement.Â
The two of you made your way into the living room, and he immediately plopped himself down on the couch and reached for the remote. You remained standing, tossing a throw blanket at him before turning to go back to the kitchen. âWhere are you going, babe? I thought you were gonna lay down with me.â
You could hear the pout he was wearing, and quickly spun on your heels to turn and look at him. âIâm making you some tea. Now hush, youâre no longer allowed to talk unless it is an absolute emergency.â
He gave you a quick nod, and you took that as your cue to head back to the kitchen to make tea. When you returned, you found Josh with a movie already ready to play, and the blanket thrown only partially over him, leaving an empty space on the cushion beside him, just for you. You made yourself comfortable, leaning against his side as he took the tea from your hands, taking a cautious sip. His eyes were already locked on you before your own caught his gaze, and he mouthed a silent âI love youâ before turning to the tv with a grin and pressing play.
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comfort & chaos (carmy berzatto x fem!reader) chapter one: october 2019
summary: the five times carmen berzatto fell in love with you a little and the one time he finally told you: carmy, the recently promoted chef du cuisine at the best restaurant in the world, has no idea what he's in for when he accidentally spills his drink on the recently hired patissiere. (prequel to make my heart surrender)
warnings: swearing, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns, drinking & smoking, suggestive language. eventual smut.
word count: 4.5k
listen to: dover beach part 2 - baby queen | alaska - maggie rogers | less than i do - the band camino | 2 / 14 - the band camino
a/n: i'm back back back again! this is six part series will be a snapshot of carmy x reader's relationship in nyc that span across a three year period. i'm really looking forward to writing their friendship & so much repressed sexual tension it's not even funny. this is the first story i've published without it being almost or fully written so updates will maybe be more sporadic this time.
October 2019Â
âi was hoping somehow we'd end up together, outside, past midnight, and smoking cigarettes. the wallpaper inside my brain is decorated with your face. i'm lonely for you only, and i'm trying to convince you that i'm something you could love.â â dover beach (pt 2)
He hates you.Â
Youâre absolutely sure of it.Â
You can see it in the way his body stiffens as you walk by â in the way he hasnât stopped sending you long, piercing glares across the kitchen â in just how bright red his face turns when you catch him doing it.Â
And for what? For being excellent? For being good enough to get a job after staging that one night?
Fuck that, you think to yourself.
You find Carmen Berzatto infuriating, and it begins to dawn on you that you may have had one too many gin cocktails to stomach the fact that you have to be here tonight.Â
Here, at his promotion party.Â
Here, at this stupid fucking bar that you hate.Â
Here, because heâs sort of everyoneâs boss now⌠and itâs something youâre just going to have to live with.
It hadnât come as much of a surprise. Thereâd been talk of a leadership change (and Carmy filling the CDC position) when you had first started working here, but having a headâs up didnât really help you now. You just hadnât pictured having to go out for drinks to celebrate the man that seemed like he could barely stand being in the same room as you. But your friend Liz, one of the chef de parties at the restaurant, had insisted you come with, since she hadnât wanted to go alone. You understood why you both had to go, so youâd invited your other best friend to help the both of you get through.Â
You thank your lucky stars that your direct report is the head pastry chef and not Carmy. Using your boss as a buffer, you had used every excuse in the book to avoid interacting with him.Â
Sure, he was brilliant.Â
Sure, he was a wunderkind who had just gotten back from a three month stage at noma right before he was hired here.
Sure, he was kind of a total asshole.Â
âFuck that, man! Câmon. Just one shot. Itâs your big night, motherfucker!â Nate calls out, practically shoving a shot into Carmyâs hand.Â
âOh, I- uh, Iâm good, man,â Carmy stutters, trying to find an excuse not to take the shot.Â
Truthfully, he hates shots⌠and heâs not much of a vodka drinker either.Â
Heâs just not in the mood to get hammered either, his thoughts consumed with tomorrow, his first day as chef du cuisine, going perfectly.Â
You watch the uncomfortable interaction, almost feeling bad for the guy. Nate and the most recently promoted sous, Tim, are trying their best to corral Carmy into taking the shot as you walk by. You can see the uncomfortable look on Carmyâs face as he declines Nateâs offer for a second time.Â
In fact, he seems like a different person tonight. Heâs⌠boyishly awkward, almost, and you wonder if heâs maybe not so great in social situations. As you pass by, drink in hand, you hear a cacophony of sound. Carmyâs trying his best to dodge his friendsâ next attempt, and before you know it, Nateâs practically pushing him towards Tim, sending Carmy backwards, tumbling right into you.Â
You feel the wet liquid of your gin and tonic, along with the shot of vodka thatâs flown out of Carmyâs hand spill all over your shirt. The shot glass shatters as it hits the floor, and the sobering feeling of ice cold liquid soaking through your shirt causes you to shriek.Â
âShit! What the fuck, Carmy!â you yell, angrily, as you push him off of you.
At this point, you could care less that heâs everyoneâs new boss, and the drama of it all has caught the attention of almost all of the other restaurant staff that have come out tonight. Your friends rush towards you, searching for as many napkins as they can grab.Â
âFffffuck,â is all he says back and you canât believe heâs yelling at you right now. You watch as his face changes quickly, from angry, to thoroughly shocked as he begins to stammer through an apology.Â
âI-. Iâm sorry I-. I didnât mean to-.âÂ
He scrambles to help you, with one cocktail napkin as you push him away, your friends rushing to your side.Â
âNo! I donât want your help,â you grit through a clenched jaw.Â
âShit, your shirt is ruined⌠Câmon,â Liz says, as she ushers you away shooting a glare in Carmyâs direction.Â
âDamn, man. You could just ask her out,â you can hear Nate say, even though youâre too preoccupied with examining the damage of your totally soaked through t-shirt.Â
So much for a chill evening.Â
âOh shut up, Nate,â Maya snaps at the sous. âLetâs get you cleaned up.â You nod, following her as she leads you away towards the bathroom.Â
Back at the bar, Liz is trying her best to remedy the situation, trying her best to clean up the mess you left behind. She watches Carmy closely, trying to figure out whether sheâs going to pay for this tomorrow. But instead of being angry, he just seems embarrassed⌠remorseful, even. Thereâs a small part of her that feels bad for the guy as it becomes clearer that he may just not be great in social situations.
As soon as you get to the single-room bathroom, you're swearing loudly and stripping off your shirt. Itâs completely see through and you know youâre going to smell like a distillery until you can get home to shower.Â
âI told you. He hates me,â you pout, examining your reflection in the mirror, a scowl glued to your face. You dap a few dry paper towels across your chest.
âI think it was just an accident, sweetie,â Maya says, sympathetically, as she tries her best to console you.Â
âYeah, I know,â you admit in defeat.
As much as youâd like to blame this on him, you know it wasnât his fault.Â
âSorry I asked you to come tonight. If I knew it would be this much drama-,â you begin, before being promptly cut off.Â
âOh no, Iâm all here for this drama,â she laughs, causing you to shake your head and lighten up a little about the situation.
As angry as youâd like to be with Carmy, you know that the truth of the matter is that he hadnât meant to spill his drink all over you. You should be mad at Nate and Tim⌠but it just feels easier to be mad at Carmy considering.Â
âIncoming!â you hear a voice say as Liz arrives. In her hands, she holds what looks like a white t-shirt, neatly folded up, that she hands to you. âAnyone in need of dry clothes?â
âOh thank god,â you sigh with relief, glady taking it.Â
âGood on you for having an extra,â Maya says.Â
âWell, itâs a restaurant. You never know when youâre gonna need a change of clothes,â Liz shrugs, a glimmer in her eyes that Maya notices, as she says it. You find it a little strange that she seems to be watching you for a reaction, but you brush off the look she sends you, as you slide the dry t-shirt over your head.
The t-shirt isnât much bigger than an oversized fit youâd buy for yourself â which makes sense because Liz is a bit taller than you. The cotton fabric hangs loosely over your form as your eyes flicker over to your completely soaked through shirt that lays crumpled up on the bathroom sink.Â
âWell, ladies. We did our best,â you resign yourself, as you notice your still-very-wet bra begin soaking through the white t-shirt.Â
âCâmon. Letâs see if we can get some more paper towels. Or uh.. See if the kitchen has a towel we can use,â Liz says, nodding her head towards the door.Â
âWeâll be right back,â Maya reassures you, empathy in her eyes.
You watch as Liz follows her, leaving you alone in the bathroom.Â
It doesnât take long for the door to the bathroom to swing open again, which surprises you. You gasp as soon as you see who's come through the door, and youâre crossing your arms over your chest which may only make the wet bra, white t-shirt ordeal even worse. A very flustered Carmy stands in the doorway, his mouth hanging open as if he hadnât expected you to be in here.Â
âThereâs uh⌠someone in here,â you scoff, unable to hide the irritation in the sound of your voice. You hug your arms closer to yourself, almost as if to cover yourself up.Â
âNo I-, yeah, I know I just-,â he stammers, his eyes shifting to the floor. He feels like heâs walked in on something he shouldnât have, and he can feel all the blood rushing to his face, instantly regretting his decision not to knock first.Â
âI actually, uh⌠I came to apologize,â he manages to get out, his words quiet. He says it as if thereâs an unintentional question mark at the end of his sentence. You can see the way he runs his eyes back and forth, trailing over the fancy floor tile, searching for the right words.Â
âI didnât mean to- I just-. SorryâŚâ
His demeanor surprises you. At work, Carmyâs this confident, commandeering, talented chef, but tonight, he seems anything but.
Nervous. Shy. Like a fish out of water, even.
You take a breath, trying your best to relax.
You can feel some of your guard coming down as you begin to accept he really hadnât meant to spill his drink on you. But youâre not eager to forget the fact that heâs been kind of an asshole to you since you started working here. Unsure of how to respond, you give literal effort to replying with a:
âItâs fine. Thanks.â
He knows you donât mean it.Â
In fact, he can hear how painful it is for you to get out those words.Â
You wait for him to leave, but Carmy continues to stand in the bathroom with you, awkwardly. But he doesnât say anything, so you figure that the least you can do is deflect a little with humor.Â
âIâll uh-, invoice you for the therapy session,â you say, trying to eliminate any malice in your tone so that he knows youâre joking. âWalking home in a wet shirt on the streets of NYC is gonna be⌠fun.â
âOh uhâŚâ he trails off, his face turning a darker shade of red.Â
âIâm kidding,â you state, searching his face for any kind of expression.Â
This man is impossible to read, you think to yourself.
His eyes are still glued to the floor as he begins to move, mumbling something you canât quite hear in response to your failed joke. Carmy slides out of the denim jacket heâs wearing, before taking hold of it, extending an arm out to you.Â
âSorry um-. Here,â he says nervously, and itâs the first time heâs allowed his eyes to meet yours. âYou can uh-. You can wear this. For your walk home.â
Well, that wasnât what you were expecting.Â
And had his eyes always been that blue?
Your face softens.Â
You take the jacket hesitantly, holding it in your hands. This time you mean it when you say:
âThanks.â
âLeast I could do,â he shrugs, daring to meet your eyes with his again.Â
You slip the jacket over your shoulders as the two of you stand a few feet apart. The air feels thick, and at this point, youâre not sure how to feel. Even though your bra has continued to soak through the white t-shirt, the way his denim jacket feels wrapped around your shoulders feels like an added layer of protection.
âAfter uh-. You know I-,â he stumbles through.
âYeah. No I uh-. Thanks, again,â you repeat, cutting him off.Â
Might as well put the poor guy out of his misery.Â
âAnyways, Iâll make sure to get this back to you,â you interject, your voice much more reassuring this time.Â
âYeah,â he nods.Â
You swear you can almost see the corner of his lips turn up, but youâve never really seen him smile, so itâs not like you have much to compare it to. Carmy excuses himself, and you watch as he leaves, genuinely grateful for the peace offering.Â
The way that Carmyâs jacket hangs heavily around your shoulders makes you wonder if itâs real denim. You notice that it smells like him too: a faint scent of cigarettes, Old Spice deodorant, whatever scented laundry detergent he uses that feels familiar.Â
You and Carmy donât speak again, save for a few short exchanges at work, but heâs been on your mind. Your interaction the other night had left an impression on you â albeit a strange one â and youâre not sure why you havenât returned his jacket yet.Â
Itâs not till a few days later that you speak again, leaving another strange impression on you. You head into the walk-in to get a few quarts of heavy cream and as you pull the door open, you find a flustered Carmy standing there. Heâs got his hands on his hips and eyes glued to the floor with an exasperated look on his face as he watches the plastic storage containers heâs just thrown clamor across the floor. You gasp, shocked by the loud sounds, and Carmy knows heâs not alone.Â
As he turns to you with a glare on his face, you notice that Carmyâs eyes are puffy, his cheeks flushed red, and he looks sick as a dog.Â
His eyes are wide with embarrassment for a moment, before returning to their normal, stoic focus, hardened by a less than positive interaction with the exec chef.Â
âSorry,â he mutters, uncomfortably. He gestures towards the storage containers on the floor, before running a hand through his neatly slicked back hair.Â
âItâs uh, youâre good, chef,â you say, trying your best to put your wall of professionalism up.Â
You had witnessed the demeaning encounter from the exec chef â everyone had. It had been impossible not to. Heâd practically breathed down Carmyâs neck, taunting him for his lack of focus today, that heâs a little bitch for letting allergies get to him.Â
To say that the man was emotionally abusive would be an understatement.Â
You should leave â turn and go, and pretend that this never happened â that youâd seen nothing. But instead, you stay.Â
âYou good, chef?â you ask softly, a hint of concern in your voice.
He sniffles again, the searing headache that robs him of his focus only burning brighter after what just happened.Â
âYeah, no. Iâm fine,â he snaps, refusing to look at you.Â
You wait for him to say something more, only he doesnât. You can see heâs not feeling well and that he must be feeling worse after his metaphorical public stoning in the town square. Heâs not sure what the hell it is youâre waiting for, and he just needs another fucking second to himself.Â
âWhy are you still here?â he grits through teeth, his eyes fixed to the floor.Â
You open your mouth to say something, but youâre honestly not sure why youâre still in the walk-in with him either.Â
Maybe because you know that the exec chef is a total monster.
That he shouldnât have talked to Carmy like that.Â
That you can understand why heâd be upset.Â
âChef!â he says, raising his voice a little louder and flinging his hands towards the door. âWill you just-?â
You nod, a feeling of embarrassment filling your chest, as you realize he wants you to leave. You hurry out of the walk-in, closing the door behind you as you escape, your heavy cream quart containers in hand.Â
âYou good?â Liz asks, as soon as she sees you come out of the walk-in. Sheâs passing by to bring a few deli containers over to the dish station.Â
âWhat?â you ask back in surprise, unaware that you look visibly shaken up.
âYou look⌠flustered is all,â she points out.Â
âOh. Yeah. I just uh-, Carmyâs in there. Throwing a fit. He just uh⌠snapped at me is all. But whatâs new?â you reply, trying your best to shake it off.Â
She rolls her eyes in response, âYeah, he can be like that. Thank your lucky stars that you donât have to work under him.â
You let out an annoyed exhale. Itâs a funny feeling â one that leaves you a little confused: one minute heâs this chivalrous guy thatâs handing you his jacket to wear home and the next heâs practically tearing your head off to get out of the walk-in. You canât quite figure him out. Heâs so hot and cold, youâre not sure what to expect from him anymore.Â
As you and Liz are about to part ways, you remember that you have to give her back her borrowed shirt.Â
âOh!â you say, calling her attention before she returns to her station.Â
âI have your shirt, by the way,â you say. âFrom the other night.â
âOh,â she says, her eyes lighting up. âOkay weird timing considering heâs being such an asshole today but uhâŚ. Yeah. The shirtâs... not mine. I forgot to tell you.â
You send her a puzzled look as she shrugs.Â
âI didnât think youâd take it if I told you but⌠itâs Carmyâs. He pulled it out of his bag when he spilled the drink on you,â she informs, waiting to gauge your reaction.
âWhat do you mean?â you ask.Â
âYou were so mad at him that I just figured-, it doesn't matter. He pulled it out of his bag to give to you. I think he felt really fucking bad, babe,â she interjects, revealing the truth.Â
Well now youâre really fucking confused.Â
And after your little interaction with him in the walk-in, thereâs no way youâre going to bring it up to him today.Â
âOh. Yeah um, got it,â you reply, feeling even more confused than when you started the day.Â
You show up to work the next day with the t-shirt and his jacket tucked into a canvas tote bag you plan on giving to Carmy. Youâd decided to wait till you had them both, and youâre also hoping that heâs in a better mood today.Â
Only, Carmyâs not here today.Â
âYeah, heâs out sick. Looks like those allergies turned out to be a nasty head cold,â your general manager had informed you when youâd asked about where Carmy was. âLooks like Timâs filling in today for him.â
âGot it. Thanks, Kateâ youâd replied.Â
Later on your mid-shift break, youâd then mustered up all the courage possible to ask if anyone had checked in on Carmy. Kate, your GM, had answered no, and had been more than happy to give you his address so that you could do so. Youâre not sure why you feel like itâs the right thing to do, but between his act of kindness at the bar, and his outburst in the walk-in yesterday, you figure it wouldnât hurt to show him a little kindness. Not that you feel like you owe him or anything.Â
Maybe you just want to give him his clothes back and be done with it.Â
Maybe youâre also deeply confused about who the hell Carmen Berzatto really is.Â
Maybe the mystery of it intrigues you a little more than youâd like to admit.
Dinner service flies by quickly â a string of non-stop orders helps the time go faster. Carmyâs apartment is on your way home, so itâs a no-brainer to make the trip. You stop on your way at a deli nearby, picking up a quart of matzo ball soup, before heading over to his apartment.Â
When you get there, you knock on the door three times, anxiety beginning to flood you.
What if he thinks this is totally creepy â that you just got his address from the general manager? What if he thinks youâre stalking him? What if he hates the fact that youâre even there in the first place?Â
You wonder if you should just leave the soup at the door and run as fast as you can so that, by the time he answers the door, youâre gone.Â
Just as youâre bending down to place the quart container down by his door, the door swings open to reveal a very congested Carmy. His curls seem wilder than normal as he looks genuinely surprised to see you crouching in the hall of his apartment.Â
âHi!â you practically shout, taken off guard as you rise to your feet.Â
âYo,â he says, blinking a few times to make sure heâs not dreaming. âWhatâs uh-, whatâs going on?â
Itâs weird â seeing Carmy outside of the restaurant, outside of his chef whites. Heâs⌠almost human-like.Â
âThis is for you,â is all you manage to say, handing him the quart container.Â
âUh⌠thanks,â he trails off, taking it and checking out the matzo ball soup.Â
Youâre not sure where to begin, how to explain why the hell youâre here, so you just start talking.Â
âI uh⌠your place was on the way home,â you begin. âI hope itâs okay but I got your address from Kate. I actually used to go to this deli all the time when I was a kid with my parents and I forgot that it was in your neighborhood so I just figured that I should pick something up on the way over since I heard you were sick and uh-.â
Carmy shoots you a look and he almost looks amused.Â
â... Iâm rambling, arenât I?â you ask, a light blush running across your cheeks.Â
âYeah,â he nods, a dry laugh following.
You wait a beat, collecting yourself. Youâre not sure why this is so weird, but itâs so weird.Â
âI came by becauseâŚâ you start, digging through your canvas tote bag thatâs draped across your right shoulder. â... I wanted to return these to you.âÂ
You hold out the jacket and t-shirt folded up together to Carmy, his eyes following them.Â
âLiz told me that the shirt was yours too. I just-, I know we donât always⌠that you donât-, I donât know what Iâm trying to say. I know itâs kind of weird at work sometimes but⌠I guess I just wanted to say thank you. For these. Hence the soup,â you finally explain.
âNo problem,â Carmy nods, taking them in his empty hand, before disappearing momentarily to place them somewhere inside of his apartment. Â
Youâre only a little disappointed by his short response, yet youâre not sure you expected anything else. He returns only seconds later.
âItâs uh-, Cool jacket,â you say. You canât tell whether youâre making small talk or just saying something out of discomfort, but it seems to pique Carmyâs interest.Â
âIt actually reminds me of the denim jacket that John Lennon used to wear â
âYou know denim?â he asks, and you could swear that you see his eyes light up for a moment.Â
âNo, but I know music,â you reply.Â
âUh I mean. Yeah. It isâŚâ he says, with a nod, a hint of excitement in the words that follow. âNot the actual one he wore but⌠itâs a 1950s selvedge Wrangler. Just like Lennon.â
So he wasnât just a fine-dining robot.Â
âWow I didnât know you were into all that,â you say, feeling some of the tension between the two of you melt. âDenim, I mean.â
âSomething I picked up from my brother, I guess,â he shrugs, shyly.Â
âThatâs funny,â you chuckle.Â
âHm?â he hums in response.Â
âJust⌠the thought of you having a brother,â you clarify, jokingly. âThought you were like⌠grown in a lab at noma or something.â
And Carmy almost smiles, you think.
âNope. Just Chicago,â he replies, enjoying the act of sharing something with you.Â
âAhhh,â you sound, following it up with another small laugh. âWell, Iâll let you get some rest. Enjoy the soup.â
âYeah, uh. Thanks for this,â he says, holding up the brown bag.Â
âOf course,â you reply, turning to go.Â
But you donât go yet, not ready to let go of the momentary connection youâve built with CarmyÂ
"You know it doesnât have to be like this,â you say, turning back to him. He's staring at you, just like he does in the kitchen. Itâs another long, languid look that makes you realize that maybe they havenât been hate-glares after all.
âWe don't have to do this... start over every time we see each other.â
âYeah?â
âYeah,â you agree with a nod. âI mean, I've already worn your clothes so⌠itâs a rather⌠intimate thing for us to just be strangersâŚ.â
He listens attentively.Â
"We could⌠coworkers⌠friends, even,â you suggest, hesitantly.
âMe and you?â he asks, a puzzled look on his face. Youâre not sure if heâs surprised by what youâve said, or if heâs about to laugh in your face.Â
âIf you want,â you nod in response.Â
He waits a beat, and you watch his facial expressions soften a little as he finally says, âYeah. Yeah, okay.â
You smile at him, the man you thought hated you, wants to be friends with you. You get a wicked idea, letting out a chuckle before continuing.Â
âGreat. Thereâs just one thing,â you begin playfully.
You canât help yourself.
âHm?â he hums.Â
âItâs just⌠I havenât made my mind up about you. So you should consider this your trial period, buddy,â you tease.Â
He lets out a dry laugh, âLike a stage?â
Of course itâs all kitchen-related for him.
You laugh in response, âYeah, like a stage.â
âHeard, chef.â
âGoodnight, Carmy.â
Carmyâs never had someone joke with him so sweetly. Between his family and, well, Richie⌠itâs always been callous humor and insults thrown back and forth lovingly. This feels⌠different: lighter.
As he watches you walk away, he looks down at the deli quart container that he holds in his hand. Heâs never had anyone take care of him before â not like this â someone who wasnât Sugar or Mikey, and certainly not his Mom. Not like this. Not without asking for anything in return. He canât seem to identify the warm feeling that rushes through him, and wonders, for a moment, if this is what it feels like to fall in love.Â
Not that heâs ever experienced that either.
By Saturday, heâs back to work and feeling much better (the soup definitely helps, he decides) but itâs not for another week that he musters up the courage to ask you what youâre doing between lunch and dinner service.Â
âChef!â he calls out to you as youâre cleaning up your station.
âYeah, whatâs up?â you reply.Â
Itâs not like youâve been all buddy-buddy and friendly over the last week, but youâve at least stopped thinking that he hates you. Sure youâve decided to be friends, but itâs not like youâd expected wildly different behavior.Â
âYou uh⌠wanna grab a cup of coffee? On the break, I mean,â he asks, his blue eyes seeming⌠more brilliant than youâve ever noticed.Â
âI owe you one. You know. For the soup.â
You smile, âYeah. Iâd uh-, Iâd like that.â
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