Can It Wait?
carmen berzatto x reader
tags: mean!carmy, apologies, light kissing, no use of y/n, established relationship, horrible sleep schedules, gender neutral reader but pet names are kinda feminine
wc: 700
a/n: this is is a quick one and i kinda hate it, i just wanted to get it over and done with.
3 hours ago you woke up. Since then your duvet was too short– never covering your whole body or too tight– wrapping around your waist making it hard to breathe. People outside didn't stop shouting or singing horribly off-key, breaks didn't stop screaming to a stop. Your body never would stay still. Your feet would twist together itching to stand up. Your legs were never in the right position, always pulling a muscle in your leg, your arms felt foreign– you kept laying on them funny, making you ache 10 minutes later.
You could not stop rolling uncomfortably on the mattress, the mattress you and Carmen should be sleeping in. But he wasn't there, he was probably at that stupid restaurant. He gives that restaurant more attention than he gives you, more attention than he gives anyone.
Finally you gave in and rubbed the sleep you would never get out of your eyes. You fumbled in the dark for your phone; when you finally found it the light from your phone screen made your eyes water. It took a couple seconds for your eyes to adjust and see the screen but when they did you opened up ‘Find My IPhone’ as quickly as your fatigued mind could. After what felt like forever the app stopped buffering and so did the ache behind your eyes– that idiot, Carmen was at ‘THE BEAR’ like you knew he would be.
Carmy often spent whole nights at his restaurant but tonight he told you he wouldn't stay late, he promised that he would follow after you he just had “some shit left to do”. What a liar; he'd been there for 5 hours after you left.
You let out an exhausted sigh and flopped onto your back starting at the ceiling contemplating if you should even go and get him. You should, right? You should get him. Slowly, you peeled yourself out of bed and put some clothes on, getting really pissed off this is becoming a routine.
~~
In the kitchen under the harsh lights you could see the tension in Carmen's back, he was hunched over a plate, you couldn't see his face but if you could, you know he'd be scowling at the dish.
“Carmy– babe it's 2am. Come home” You sound desperate. You try to reach for his back so you can see his face but he shrugs you off dismissively.
“I cant- I have to get this shit perfect, i can just abandon this fuckin’ restaurant because you don't want to sleep alone” Carmen snaps at you. His tone was cruel and belligerent.
Your heart breaks. His words cut deep. You don't know if it's because you're so exhausted but his words hurt.
“oh fuck– shit” carmen whips his body around, when he looks at you his eyes soften, carmen immediately regrets his outburst– he sees the way your body slumps from exhaustion and how your eyes are red and starting to water. He pinches his nose and screws up his features.
“I’m so sorry. I'm an asshole.” he mutters, full of guilt.
“Yeah Carm you are. You promised that you'd come home, then you didn't. I've been waiting for you for five hours. Your whole world revolves around this restaurant." You angrily wave your hands around. This bullshit has gone on too long.
“Honey, I'm so sorry. I'm so tired I haven't slept properly since fuckin’... forever,”
“Can you just come home, the restaurant can wait,” You wipe the one stray tear that rolls down your face, feeling more vulnerable than scary.
“Okay sweetie, you're right. It can wait.” He says earnestly, Carm hates seeing you cry. It breaks his heart every time, it hurts him even more knowing it's his fault. He grabs your jaw tenderly and kisses your upper lip, his lips taste like cigarette tar.
“Carmy you really gotta stop that habit, you taste like cigarettes” you affectionately push him off of you, hating the dirty flavour cigarettes have.
“Do you forgive me?” he says with pleading eyes.
“Yes.” you pull him towards you by his collar and kiss him back, properly this time.
