One Of My Deepest Darkest Secrets Is That The Taggie X Rupert Relationship Dynamic Is Literal Catnip

The Knight & The Judge

[ modern Frollo • Aemond x Esmeralda • female ]

[ warnings: dubcon, sex content, smut, angst, domination and humiliation kink, description of physical and mental disabilities, prejudices against disabled people, aggressive behavior, violence, swearing, trauma, mention of an accident with fatalities ]

[ description: After a car accident, his brother has to deal with the consequences of what happened, and he, as his protector, does not know how to help him. His sister comes up with the idea of hiring someone as his carer who will be able to cheer him up and occupy his mind. It turns out, however, that the girl he hired charmed not only his younger brother. Obsession, self-destructive behavior, verbal and physical aggression, sexual tension, dark, malicious Aemond. ]

Author's note: This story is a request, but I decided to freely use what I liked in the book and Disney film to create a new, disturbing story taking place in modern times. It is intended to be uncomfortable and will contain scenes that are at least morally questionable, in my version "Esmeralda" is not Romanian. This story will also include motifs from Jane Eyre, which was a separate request. My story will also touch on the problems of people with disabilities, so if these are sensitive topics for you, I advise against reading further. You have been warned.

Part 2 − The Sin & The Penance Part 3 − The Doubt & The Delight Epilogue

Main Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

On that day it seemed to him that the whole world had turned against him. His coffee machine had broken down, there was more traffic than usual on the roads and he was sure he would be late for work, and his brother had woken up in a mood worse than always and cried all the way to the centre.

"I don't want to go there. I-I'm scared of some of those kids." He muttered under his breath, swallowing loudly, whooping with tears. He looked at him in the mirror, feeling a squeeze in his throat every morning when he left him there, but saw no other alternative.

He still hadn't recovered mentally after what had happened five years ago and, according to his psychiatrist, he wasn't ready to attend a normal school until he gained more confidence.

He did not want to force him to listen to unpleasant comments, however, he felt uncomfortable himself.

The centre was huge, classes were taught in different groups of matched children, however, there were times when Daeron encountered kids with a spectrum of disabilities other than physical and was simply afraid of them.

He tried to explain it to him, but how was a child supposed to understand these complicated, sometimes even uncontrollable behaviours and screams?

He swallowed hard, leaning the back of his head against the backrest, turning on the right indicator with his hand, driving into the car park of the building where he would leave him for the time he spent at work, during which he studied and had various extra classes with children with problems similar to his.

However, was he to surround himself all his life only with children who had mobility problems, who had no arms or legs, who suffered from paresis or lack of feeling in their limbs?

Every time he thought about it he wanted to cry.

He turned off the engine, staring dully ahead, hearing his mother's screams again in the background of his mind as his father fainted behind the wheel and drove off the road into the other lane, he felt once again that hard crash with the big truck coming from the opposite direction that crushed them.

They were only alive because they were in the back seats at the time, Daeron, however, was not as lucky as he was.

Compared to what happened to his younger brother, the glass that smashed into the left side of his face was nothing.

"Mrs Thomson said you can't spend all day at home doing one-to-one tuition. You have to see other children." He calmly repeated the formula he said whenever such a situation arose, opening his door, heading for the boot of his big black SUV, the car dealership had told him it was the safest and biggest model they had.

He took out the small wheelchair that had been put together and unfolded it, driving it closer, to the back seat where his brother sat, opening it, he looked away, unable to watch his brother's weeping face.

"I'm already late for work. Please. I promise we'll play FIFA' 23 together when we get back. Hm?" He muttered, and Daeron nodded, pale, breathing loudly, using his hands to move slowly towards the wheelchair onto which he shifted the weight of his body, hissing loudly as he lifted his legs onto the special supports.

The bones of his little legs had been simply crushed then, he continued to grow, the rehabilitation was hard and caused him great pain.

He would have preferred it to be him who suffered like this and not an innocent child, but God, who he wasn't sure he still believed in despite the deep faith his mother had always instilled in him, decided otherwise.

He closed the car and moved with him to the main entrance, pushing his wheelchair forward, when they got inside they were greeted by a lady they knew very well, several of his friends waved to Daeron, one of them was paralysed from the waist down, the other was missing one arm.

He swallowed loudly, thinking that his brother had to watch someone else's misfortune every day, himself for sure feeling like a cripple, like someone defective, someone who was a burden, even though he loved him the most in the world.

The cruelty of the situation left him with a clenched throat, so he would usually only throw him a few words to say goodbye, stroke his head and leave, only by the car tightening his fingers on the base of his nose, his healthy eye burning from the moisture that gathered under his eyelids.

As he always did in moments of breakdown, he started the engine, selected the number of his sister phone on the display under his dashboard and, turning on loudspeaker mode, started backing his car as he tried to drive out of the car park and drove ahead towards the national prosecutor's office.

"Hello? Aemond, did something happen?"

He heard Helaena's soft, sleepy voice, he knew she was still doing overtime as a doctor, overworking herself as much as he was, he thought that he had woken her up after the night shift.

He felt remorse for not being able to handle it himself, although she always reassured him that she would always help him as best she could.

She got Daeron the best possible physiotherapist so that he was even able to take a few steps in the last month while holding on to his supports, however it still caused him great pain, the doctors said his bones would continue to hurt as long as he grew.

Perpetual undeserved suffering.

"I don't know what to do anymore. He says he is afraid of some of the children, those with intellectual disabilities. I know it's cruel, but fuck, I'd be scared of some of them too. Do they have to see each other in the same building, pass each other in the corridor? Shouldn't they be separated somehow?"

"God, Aemond, they're not animals. After all, they're children too." She said with sadness and resentment; he clenched his eye, sighing impatiently, trying to focus on the road again, tense.

"I know. I know. I really feel for them, but it's bad for his psyche. He recently asked me if he was normal, if he too would start shouting and babbling like them. That sometimes they are aggressive and the carers have to drag them away from him and his friends."

"It's horrible. Maybe he really should go there less often?" She asked sighing quietly, he heard her rise up on the bed with a quiet creak of the mattress.

"And what, he's going to sit at home with some boring old teacher? How will I know that no harm comes to him in my absence?" He asked resignedly, hearing silence on the other side for some time.

"Maybe find someone who won't be very distant in age. Someone who won't just teach him, but play with him and spend time with him. Someone old enough to be responsible for him and at the same time young enough not to feel so distant. Someone joyful." She replied, and he rolled his eyes as he drove into the underground car park of his office building.

"Joyful? I am supposed to pay someone to be joyful?" He sneered, shaking his head, his sister sighed again.

"He needs it, Aemond. We're all tired, and he's a child."

He hung up after a few minutes of further discussion, telling her he had to go, grabbed the case folders he'd just brought in and headed for the underground lift. He pressed the button showing the floor he wanted to move to when a woman's hand stopped the sliding doors, which opened a moment later.

Alys smiled broadly at him as she stepped inside with a confident stride, her high black heels emphasised how slender and long her legs were, her fitted, waist high pencil trousers and black blazer with a beautiful white shirt underneath highlighted both her confidence and her attractiveness.

He remembered the last few times the thrusts of his hips had pushed her into her desk, bent over and helpless, with firm, wide buttocks on which he tightened his fingers as he panted heavily, watching what he was doing to her, rooting into her again and again, he thought with mockery and amusement how easy it was to make a mere whore out of such a proud woman.

"Good morning, Mr Prosecutor." She said softly, contentment and calmness on her face, several of their intense close-ups had clearly left an intense mark in her, not just physical.

She liked the violent and determined ones, he knew that, she hid her age well and apparently decided that this was the last moment in her life when she could reach for what she wanted.

"Good morning, Miss Rivers." He replied calmly, uninterested in her ambiguous look, apparently suggesting that she wouldn't mind if what happened between them was repeated a few more times.

He was all about the sex. He was frustrated in this aspect, his artificial eye, although perfectly colour-matched to the other and the still clearly visible scar from where the glass pierced in, were a source of his complexes and shame, he knew that no matter how perfect a professional he was, it was his appearance that made the first impression.

In the courtroom he still struggled to be taken seriously so much so that his cold, calculating, ruthless nature began to frighten some, his judgement and questioning was harsh and lacking in compassion, he knew exactly what he wanted and strove to get it.

He preferred them to fear him rather than pity him.

His superiors quickly appreciated how skilful a lawyer he was and his ability to bring cases to an end and push whoever he needed to, hence he quickly moved to the National Prosecutor's Office, where more responsibilities and more money awaited him, which he could spend on Daeron's rehabilitation.

As he sat over the files he thought hard about what his sister had told him and decided that he would install CCTV in the house and then hire someone on a trial basis to see if it made sense.

He put up an anonymous job ad not wanting anyone to recognise him, described briefly his broad expectations and his rate per hour.

It turned out that dozens of people responded to his ad, just as he suspected attracted by the sum he had quoted, but he didn't know how he was supposed to sort them to choose the ones that seemed best to him. He began to read their answers, figuring that already from them he could deduce what types of personalities they were.

I am interested. My phone number is below.

Reject, he thought, clicking the red button informing the message sender that his offer was not accepted, and began to scroll further.

I am a carer with 10 years of experience. I have already cared for 14-year-old Mike with cerebral palsy, Adam with….

Reject, he clicked again.

He had no intention of making his home a second centre for the disabled.

He felt frustration and rage when he found that most of the messages were similar and just as empty in their tone, nothing convinced him about these people, he knew Daeron wouldn't want to stay with them, and neither would he.

He stopped at one of the messages that looked completely different and blinked.

Good morning! I saw your ad and thought I would speak up. I'm a student, I'm studying costume design at the Faculty of Fine Arts. I'm looking for a casual job and I really enjoy working with children, I teach dressmaking as part of the teaching section of my university classes. I think that helping your brother with his studies at primary school level would be no problem for me at all, and I would also be happy to come up with different extra-curricular activities with him. Even if you decide not to hire me, I would like to sew your brother a costume of his favourite super hero, without any payment of course. You would just have to give me his measurements. I don't think anything makes kids his age happier!!! My warmest regards and I am sending my email below.

He looked at her message not too sure how he felt, at the same time being impressed, on the other hand feeling the seed of uncertainty and extreme caution characteristic of him when it came to his approach to newly met people.

What if this was a psychological tactic to make him believe her to be innocent and unselfish? To make him subconsciously choose her because she was the only one offering him something for free? If it was just her free promotion?

He chose two people reluctantly, but kept coming back to her message, trying to imagine her, seeing some crazy painting student looking like a hippie.

Maybe this was just what he needed? He thought with regret and sighed heavily, opening a new window in his inbox, writing her a short, brief email to appear at their house in a few days' time.

He was going to interrogate her.

The young man before her immediately made him uneasy, he had the impression that he smelled weed from him even though he had taken a shower, so he must have been smoking like crazy, and he had no intention of letting anyone who might encourage him to use any stimulants look after his brother.

The other girl was very frightened, his questions clearly startled her and made her uncomfortable, it frustrated him that she was barely able to make a sound. He thought she had something to hide, that people who have a clear conscience don't behave this way.

He thought with resignation that all he had left was a mad artist.

He sighed heavily as he heard the bell ring suggesting that someone was standing outside the gate. He walked over to the intercom and opened it, seeing in the small monitor a petite girl with dark, slightly wavy hair tied up in a ponytail, he thought in disbelief that she was dressed for a job interview in a white turtleneck, dungarees and trainers, a fabric floral back on her back.

What the fuck, he thought, opening her door with a cold, indifferent expression on his face.

"Good afternoon." She said softly, a wide smile on her face, before she walked in she wiped her shoes on the doormat, which pleased him, when she came inside she wanted to take off her trainers, he looked at her surprised, thinking she must be crazy.

"No, you don't have to. You can stay in your shoes." He said lowly, pointing towards the armchair, indicating to her with his hand the seat on the couch next to him.

She sat down in the seat he showed her, looking boldly straight into his eyes, her cheeks rosy with emotion, she was clearly a tad nervous after all, he thought, musing for a moment that she had incredibly long, dark eyelashes.

"Do you have experience in working with children?" He asked immediately, she blinked and corrected herself in her seat, as if prepared for the question.

"Only in terms of working with them in sewing workshops." She answered simply, without any further explanation, which pleased him.

She was letting him draw his own conclusions, rather than imposing them on him so as to present herself in the most favourable light.

"My brother has mobility problems. How do you imagine helping him, for example, if he needs to go to the bathroom?"

"I think he's old enough that he can tell me himself what he'll need help with and what he won't, and what he'll feel comfortable for me to help him with and when he'll want me to leave." She said without thinking, shrugging her shoulders as if it was obvious, he squinted, intrigued that she was allowing herself to say unthoughtful things in front of him, as if she wasn't afraid of the consequences they might bring.

"And your studies? How will you have so much time to come here?"

"From what I understand, I would be expected to turn up on Tuesdays and Thursdays from eight in the morning until sixteen. I have practice classes then, the costumes I'm sewing I can bring with me and finish them while he's eating or watching something, maybe he'll even like it and want to practice with me?"

"What will you do if I don't hire you?" He asked dryly and she looked at him surprised, a light smile on her face indicating that his words didn't worry her.

"Then I will continue to work in the café. But my words about the superhero costume stand. Even if I can't work for you, sir, I would like to meet him and give him something. Children can be so brave." She said softly with sincere, bright joy and some kind of pride, as if Daeron was her brother and not his, something in her innocence, something in her attitude endeared him.

He could smell a lie a mile away, she wouldn't be able to pretend so well even if she were an actress.

These reactions were natural, she was saying exactly what she was thinking about.

"I will contact you once I have made my decision." He said indifferently, getting up from his seat and pointing with his hand towards the exit, suggesting that their conversation was over.

She stood up and smiled, undaunted by his behaviour or the length of their conversation, both of them flinching when Daeron appeared in the living room, pushing the wheels of his wheelchair with a light flick of his hand.

"Good afternoon. Who is this lady?" His younger brother asked him, obvious curiosity on his face, he swallowed loudly and glanced at her, he saw that she answered nothing but waved at him vigorously, Daeron smiled shyly and waved her back, embarrassed.

"No one. I needed to talk to her." He replied, opening the door for her, she said a polite goodbye to him and his brother, waving at him once more, Daeron waved her back again, looking at him with questioning eyes as he closed it.

"I like her. She seems fun."

With no other choice, he decided he would give her a chance.

The first day she was to be left alone with Daeron he was all nerves despite the fact that his little brother hadn't seemed this excited to him in many years. He told him about his toys and the cartoons he was going to show her.

"First the lessons. Then two hours to play and free time." He replied dryly, tense, glancing at his watch, thinking with rage that she only had fifteen minutes left, that she was sure to be late or not come and leave him in the lurch when he had already cancelled his presence at the centre's classes.

They both flinched when they heard the bell ring, Daeron said, moving briskly forward in his wheelchair that he wanted to open for her and indeed, after a moment the girl he had hired appeared on the doorstep of their house, smiling and content, her cheeks flushed again, her dark hair loose, pleasantly framing her bright face, on her body only a black top and tracksuit shorts, it was a sunny, warm spring morning.

"Good morning, Daeron, nice to meet you!" She said with fondness and satisfaction in her voice, extending her hand in front of her, which his brother shook confidently, Daeron moved ahead of her, glancing over his shoulder at her.

"Come, I'll show you my room. I'll explain everything to you." He said, rolling his wheelchair up to the door, which was located on the ground floor of their house so that he could move around easily, the girl nodded, pulling her trainers off her feet, saying that she will come to him in a minute.

He took the opportunity to walk up to her, towering over her, and she threw him a quick surprised look, he thought her eyes seemed even bigger than before, he wasn't sure if they were blue or green, both colours blending into one.

"You are to take care of him. I want you to go through all the material that was prepared for today. Only two hours of free time, no more. Behave responsibly and only call if it's really urgent or if something happens to him." He said matter-of-factly, and she swallowed quietly, nodding quickly, clearly horrified by how close he stood and how cold his voice was.

Good, he thought.

He wanted her to be afraid of the consequences of her actions.

He sat in the office all day terrified, stressed and unsure, trying to focus on the file in front of him, while involuntarily still glancing at his phone, checking to see if she might have called him.

Was everything okay? What if something had happened but she was afraid to call him? Maybe he should go home and test her, see what was going on?

He thought he would go mad if he didn't, so he left work an hour early, Alys threw something at him as he walked past her, probably something about a meeting or an evening out together, but he didn't answer her, heading for the stairs and the underground car park.

He drove forward, trying to calm himself down, thinking about how oversensitive he was, that surely everything was fine.

He pulled up in front of their house hearing music in the distance, wondering if any of the neighbours were having a party outside at this hour.

However, as he pressed the key to the gate and it slowly swung open he saw in disbelief the girl he had hired riding with lightness and grace on roller skates in his driveway to the tune of the Scissor Sisters song I Don't Feel Like Dancin', Daeron laughed out loud, spinning beside her in his wheelchair, both of them wearing elbow and knee pads, in addition to his little brother wearing a bike helmet on his head.

What the fuck was that supposed to be?

He got out of the car, furiously slamming the door, his brother wheeled up to him briskly, his companion spinning slowly around them on roller skates, she raised her eyebrows with a smile, seeing the look on his face and waved at him.

"Look how well I dance, brother!" Exclaimed Daeron, spinning the wheels of his wheelchair around his own axis again.

He, however, instead of looking at him grabbed aggressively the arm of his carer who was doing another spin, she nearly fell over because of his tug and caught him abruptly by his jacket in an attempt to catch her balance.

"Ah!"

"What the fuck are you doing? Is this what I pay you for?" He growled and shook her hard, she stared at him with wide-open eyes, her lips slightly parted in accelerated breathing from fear, her face red from exertion, strands of her hair stuck to her cheeks.

"Let me go, sir. I will not speak to you like this." She said warningly, her brow furrowed, he pressed his lips together noticing that something had changed in her gaze, suddenly confident and angry, ready to fight if necessary.

He felt that look in his trousers, he'd never had the urge to slap a woman's ass as hard as hers before.

He glanced at his brother, who was looking at him in horror, only realising after a moment that the song had long since ended and there was a tense, awkward silence around them.

He let go of her arm, seeing with satisfaction that he had left a bruise on her skin in the shape of his fingers, she massaged at the spot, furrowing her brow.

"You're fired. You're irresponsible. Good thing I came back earlier." He said with mockery and fury, walking over to his brother, unbuckling the helmet he wore on his head, Daeron burst into a loud, uncontrollable sob.

"I don't want to. I don't want to, I don't want to go back there, I want to stay with her. It's my fault, I told her I wanted to dance, please, please, please, I want her to stay, I don't want to go back there." He babbled, running his hands over his shoulders in some helpless, childish pleading gesture from which he felt a squeeze in his throat, he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, her gaze fixed on his little brother, sad and resigned, she was leaning over, untying the laces of the roller skates that had once belonged to his sister.

"Something could have happened to you. You could have fallen over and hit your head on the ground." He replied coldly, kneeling in front of him, unbuckling his knee pads.

"But I had a helmet on my head. After all, normal boys fall off bikes and stairs and they're fine! Nothing would have happened if I'd bruised myself a bit, I'm not made of glass!" He burst out suddenly with a fury he had never seen in him before, burying his little face in his hands, all red from tears and despair.

"I won't go back there, I won't go there tomorrow, if she doesn't stay, never, never again, I'd rather kill myself!" He whined out loud, falling into another attack of hysteria in recent months, he had trouble catching his breath, his lungs were wheezing all over, he took his face in his hands, but he closed his eyes, not wanting to look at him.

God, why?

"Remember what I told you?" She asked walking up to his brother in just her socks, kneeling beside him, grasping his hand, Daeron immediately fell silent, looking at her with wide eyes.

"That boy who calls you Quasimodo is just mean. You are my Phoebus, you have his beautiful hair, humour and valour. I'll sew us costumes and we'll go to the carnival ball together. His jaw will drop when he sees that you came with your Esmeralda. What do you say?" She asked softly, and he looked at her in disbelief, wondering if that was the reason his little brother didn't want to go there.

That boy who calls you Quasimodo.

He felt a twitch in his throat and swallowed loudly, his brother nodding quickly, drawing in air loudly, his eyes full of hope.

"Promise?" He asked in a trembling voice, and she smiled broadly, sincerely, squeezing his small hand.

"Promise."

They entered their house as his brother calmed down, he told Daeron to go to his room and leave them alone, which his brother eventually did with great reluctance, crying for a while longer, not wanting to say goodbye to her.

As soon as he heard the door close behind him at the end of the corridor he slipped his wallet out of the back pocket of his trousers, took out a few banknotes and threw them on the table in front of her in a careless gesture.

"Get the fuck out of my house." He said coldly, looking her straight in the eye, he saw her lower lip twitch, the pain of humiliation in her gaze, her eyebrows arched in disbelief that such words had left his mouth.

He wasn't paying her to make a circus of herself dancing like some fucking Esmeralda, exposing his brother to danger and injury.

He pressed his lips into a thin line and trembled with rage as she took the money and tossed it in his direction, the banknotes flying scattered around his feet.

"You could dress up as Frollo for the carnival ball, sir. It would suit you." She said drily, turning away tensely, he moved behind her, feeling the anger buzzing strongly in his veins at her words.

He grabbed her by the neck with an aggressive flick of his hand and slammed her back against the wall, her voice stuck in her throat in horror, her big, bright eyes open wide in disbelief.

He took a step closer to her, feeling her warm body quiver all over in his grasp, he dug his fingertips deeper into her skin finding with delight that she was obscenely soft.

"Do you have anything else to say?" He asked in a low whisper filled with threat, she shook her head quickly clearly feeling the situation was out of her control, obviously fearing if he was really going to do something to her.

"No, are you sure? I'm listening to you. Tell me something else interesting about me." He said softly, encouragingly, moving even closer to her, the tips of their noses almost touching.

He could finally get a good look at her, he found curiously that he still couldn't tell what colour her eyes were, now slightly reddened from tears of fear.

She shook her head quickly, not making a sound, all he could hear was their quickened, raspy breaths, her hand touched his wrist as if she wanted to make sure he didn't strangle her, he was somehow delighted by how delicate, long and slender her fingers were, he felt a pleasant pulsing in his trousers at the thought.

"Look at you. So silly. Because you're a silly little girl, aren't you? You would benefit from someone teaching you a lesson. No? Then apologise and I'll let you go and pretend I never met you." He said calmly, her whole body quivering with terror.

"Never." She said quietly, and he felt involuntarily that his lips curved in a dangerous, satisfied grin, his fingers clenching tighter around her neck.

"You're asking for trouble, Esmeralda." He muttered lowly, her nostrils twitching in accelerated breath.

"I will report what you are doing to the police." She said dryly and he smiled even wider, he felt her tremble all over as he leaned over her ear, his nose sinking into her soft, flower-scented hair, he closed his eyes and savoured the experience for a moment before whispering something she froze from.

"I am a prosecutor −"

Her hand clenched tighter on his wrist, a moan of despair escaping her lips, as if what he had said had really shocked her, as if she was only now realising what she had gotten herself into.

"− and I've never lost a case yet." He whispered in her ear, sliding his face lower, to her jaw and then to her neck, pressing his full lips to her skin, leaving wet, hot marks on it, he heard her draw in a loud breath.

"− w-what are you doing, sir? − no −" She whimpered, he felt her lift her arms up in a defensive gesture, trying to pull away from him, but he pressed her against the wall with his body, letting go of her neck, his manhood throbbing hard in his trousers, pressing again and again against her stomach.

She felt it, a terrified cry escaped her lips as his lips pressed tightly against her neck and he began to suck painfully hard on her skin, wanting to leave her a crimson reminder of himself.

"− how did you put it? − who do I remind you of? −" He asked tauntingly, running his rough tongue over her red skin, feeling the veins pulsing rapidly under her soft, warm skin.

"− I'm sorry − I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry − please, please let me go −" She mumbled out in despair on the verge of crying, her voice trembling all over in terror, her breathing raspy and uneven, her small hands clenched on the material of his black turtleneck that he wore under his jacket.

He gasped at her words, sliding his mouth lower, repeating the same process, rubbing against her with his hips, his cock all swollen and hard, pulsing with pleasure, his hands roaming down her back, sliding at last to her buttocks where they clenched.

"− look at you − so you can be polite after all, hm? −" He asked softly, lowering the material of her tracksuit shorts a little, his large hand grasping her plump, firm buttocks and slapping it hard, she clamped her lips together, trying to hold back the whimper that squeezed its way down her throat.

"− that's what I thought − turn around and let's get this over with −" He murmured, soothingly massaging the place that was now pulsing from his slap, grinning as she did so wordlessly, tears of helplessness and fear on her cheeks.

"− please −" She muttered and he sighed softly, sliding the material of her shorts and underwear down, revealing what was underneath, she shuddered and wept quietly as the tips of his fingers ran over her swollen folds, focusing their pressure on her sweet spot hidden between them, digging into her fleshy skin in circular, calm motions.

"− shhh − this way it will be easier for both of us −" He explained in a soft tone of voice, as if he was telling her something obvious, as if it would benefit her in the future and teach her something.

He heard her shy moan full of fear, then another, a tad louder as his fingers sank more firmly into her skin, he licked his lips at the sight of the wetness that began to leak slowly from inside her, he slapped his hand with a short, rough movement into the space between her thighs.

"− quiet −" He ordered, and she pressed her lips together, stifling whatever wanted to come out of them. Daeron was far away, locked in his room, but he still preferred him not to hear anything, and he didn't have the time or desire to take her upstairs to his bedroom.

This situation, her bent figure and her lovely buttocks pushed up towards him, suited him completely.

"− good girl − see? − it's not that hard −" He murmured pleased with how obedient she was despite the fear and terror from which her whole body was twitching, confident movements of his fingers were accompanied by the louder and louder click of her moisture, her cheek pressed against the cold wall where her hands were helplessly trying to find support in this position, her eyes closed as if she just wanted to wait it out.

She opened them when she heard the sound of his zipper being opened, her lips pressed together with difficulty as he guided the fat, swollen head of his throbbing cock against her opening, leaning with his free hand against the wall just above her head, trying to force it between her tight folds with the motion of his hips.

"− wider − that's it, there you go −" He exhaled as she opened her thighs a little more and he spread her wide on his cock, feeling her muscles gave him a wonderful squeeze, he sighed loudly, surprised at how pleasurable the sensation was.

"− fuck −" He hissed out, clamping his hands on her buttocks, spreading them like a ripe fruit, she squirmed in discomfort as he forced her to take him deeper inside her, he was filling her so much that he felt like he was going to rip her skin apart.

"− barely fits −" He scoffed, moving his hips back and forth with a splat of her moisture dripping down her thighs, he heard her begin to pant along with him, he deliberately rubbed against her lower wall just above her very entrance, teasing the spot inside her from which her whole body was quivering.

"− here? − do you want me to fuck you here, little one? −" He gasped as he stretched her skin enough to fit all of him inside her, rooting into her again and again with increasingly brutal thrusts of his hips, digging his fingertips into her buttocks, looking at the spot where their bodies joined, at her muscles clenching against him greedily in panic, sucking him inside.

"− please −" She cried out, squeezing her eyes shut, her lips parted in disbelief at how pleasurable and terrifying the experience was, he sank his hand into her soft, dark hair and tilted her head back, burying his nose in the hot skin of her cheek, speeding up, stretching her weeping folds with a loud, lewd slaps of his thighs against her buttocks.

"− use full sentences −" He commanded, his other hand from her hip slid down between her thighs, she squirmed helplessly as his fingers sank again into her fleshy skin, sticky from her moisture, teasing her clit with circular, slow motions.

"− here − fuck me here, sir −" She mumbled with difficulty in a voice trembling with exertion, her cheeks all red, the beautiful curls of her dark hair clinging to her sweaty face, he felt with satisfaction as her hips began to respond to his eager thrusts.

"− good girl − that's my good girl −" He breathed out with a quiet groan of pleasure, seeing and feeling her walls squeeze his fat cock at his praise, he licked his lips thinking that Alys had never responded to him the way she did, so frightened and aroused at the same time, relying only on his mercy, his goodwill.

"− you understand that this is necessary, don't you? − that you need to be taught a lesson −" He muttered, feeling that he was losing his temper, thrusting into her so fast that he was barely slipping out of her, slamming into her again and again, his cock throbbing with desire, signalling to him that his peak was coming, her wonderful scent filling his lungs.

"− y-yes − yes, I'm sorry −" She mumbled out, he wasn't sure if she was saying what he wanted to hear or if she really believed it herself for a second, but she clamped her eyelids shut and spread her mouth wide, helpless, girlish, sweet moan of relief burst from her throat as she came, sucking and squeezing his cock, soaking it in her moisture, he sighed in relief when, after a few desperate, deep slaps he spilled inside her, feeling the wave of hot pleasure shake his body.

"− fuck − oh, God, little one −" He muttered, their bodies involuntarily moving for a moment longer, wanting to prolong this surprisingly shocking experience, both of them panting embarrassingly loudly, her body trembling all over, if his arm hadn't been holding her around the waist she would have fallen for sure, her legs completely numb.

He looked down at their joined bodies, his half-hard, throbbing manhood sinking into her again and again, all sticky from his semen and her wetness.

He swallowed loudly, sliding out of her slowly, realising now what he had actually done to her, heard her quiet hiss of discomfort and sigh of relief, her face flushed from exertion and tears.

"− are you all right? −" He asked in a trembling voice, quickly zipping up his trousers, her shaking hands slipping her underwear and shorts back onto her buttocks.

"− y-yes −" She mumbled in embarrassment, horror and disbelief, not looking at him, in some automatic gesture reaching for her trainers, putting them quickly on her feet.

"Come back on Thursday as we agreed before." He muttered, feeling the rapid pounding of his heart and the panic rising inside him, a complete void in his mind.

What had he done?

"I can assure you that you will never see me again." She whispered in a trembling, broken voice, quickly put her backpack on her back and walked out, slamming the door, leaving him with complete silence, remorse and horror.

He pressed his forehead against the wall, hiding his face in his hands, and burst into tears like a small child.

How could he treat a strange, innocent girl like this?

What if she didn't take her pills, what if she got pregnant?

How could he have been so irresponsible?

What if she really does report it to the police?

I'll destroy her, he thought with a bitter certainty that, after a moment, turned again into terror, regret and shame.

He grabbed his phone quickly and dialled her number, wanting to beg her forgiveness, but she didn't answer. He sat down on the couch and drew in the air loudly, devastated, not recognising himself, realising what kind of man he was.

He laughed desperately, shaking his head, thinking with painful amusement how well she had judged him.

He didn't even have to pretend.

He was like Frollo.

_____

Author's note: Many of you may believe that Quasimodo is the best and most worthy of imitation character, not Phoebus, and this is true when it comes to the book, but I assume that if anything, Daeron at this age has only seen a Disney fairy tale, in which Phoebus is a handsome man with a noble heart. The whole idea of this scene, in which the heroine says that he will be her Phoebus and she will be his Esmeralda, is that Daeron wants to see himself not only as a person with a disability, but as someone handsome, a warrior that a woman could love one day. It's easy to understand how children's minds work and why his works this way, and his "Esmeralda" only wants to help him become the person he wants to be and encourages him not to give up on these dreams and this self-image.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96

series masterlist:

a collection of one-shots where steve falls for the new girl in town

part 1 ✿ new neighbour

steve is down because of his dating life, or lack thereof. that is until the new girl captures his attention

part 2 ✿ built to last

steve was just supposed to help you build a bookshelf. he definitely wasn’t supposed to have this much fun doing it

part 3 ✿ for you? always

you’re unravelling, badly, but steve refuses to let you fall apart alone

part 4 ✿ stay for dinner?

a stupid conversation, past insecurities, and a boy who thinks he isn’t enough—until you show him he always was

part 5 ✿ never second best 18+

after a run-in with his ex, steve reassures you that you'll never be second best, proving it in a way he knows will stick

part 6 ✿ jealous much? 18+

steve may not be the jealous type, but when he sees someone else eyeing his girl, he’s more than happy to remind you exactly who takes care of you the best

NOT ONLY DID SHE WIN IT SHE DID IT FROM NUMBER ONE!!!! BITCH!!!

fuck we gotta hear a song before the match?????

i am old and tired just give me my wrassle please

---

ik it's been a while since you made the book rec post but i think you would enjoy lights out by navessa allen

AHHH I LOOOOOVE THIS BOOK!! It lowkey put me into a reading slump after I read it and I'm still so obsessed with it. Then I listened to the audiobook where Josh is narrated by Jacob Morgan and that man's voice is SO FUCKING HOT! Also I think the book made me so obsessed with the "dark stalker dom but still golden retriever boyfriend" character trope UGH IT'S JUST SO GOOD

Gay cowboys

Gay cannibals

Gay (but not really gays since they are genderless) biblical entities

Gay attorneys

Gay homophobes

Hoping I'm not the only one loving all these different pieces of media and fandoms !!

It's so funny to me to see how the dynamics are different but at the same time they are all just some guys that can't speak and say "look I love you let's become a couple and stop all this complicated long situationship shit"

The Less I Know The Better

Sydney likes Luca's cooking and Carmy wants to kill himself.

Warnings: MINORS DNI, Arguing, Angst, Toxic Relationship, Possessive Behavior, Unprotected Sex, Jealousy, Alcohol, Panic Attacks, Codependency

Divider: firefly-graphics.tumblr.com GIF: thiscoldheart.tumblr.com

Part 1 | Part 2

A/N:

I used to pray for times like this. I'm so happy I finished the fic and I am unburdened by it. I have one more installment planned. It's not a continuation but how I imagine they got together in the first place. I'll try to get that out soon. The title is based on The Less I Know the Better by Tame Impala. Posted on AO3.

She didn't feel like she was in her body when she woke up the next morning.

Her head was floating away to some vast unknown paradox, she couldn’t rid herself of the feeling. It made her senses fall out of whack. She felt cold, even in his warm embrace. His body was always so warm. When he pulled her against him she’d sink into it, against his artfully crafted body, she felt at home.

She missed the mindlessness his touch brought. He’d look at her and hold her like she didn’t have to worry, ever, about anything. He always made her feel safe. She briefly registered an emotion she hadn’t felt since her business failed. It was gone, shaken off by the flexing of her fingers down to her toes.

The feeling left her and she could finally move.

She slipped out from under him, a stealth mission to leave the house before he woke up. He stirred when she stood up, her  blood ran ice cold. With a heart fighting its way out of her chest and tightly closed eyes - she begged god to keep him asleep. Just for a little longer, she wasn’t ready to face him. After a few moments of silence his breathing evened out and she could safely open her eyes. The breath she released was sure to be quiet.

The morning didn’t greet her with the smell of freshly cut grass or a warm radiant sky, but with a brittle bite. Her cheeks were stinging and her lashes were wet by the time she reached her father’s house.  

Emmanuel stood by his coffee maker. He watched as his sweet'n low disappeared into his coffee. His back was to her when she turned her key and welcomed herself inside. She never got rid of her key when she moved out in case something went wrong. God knows she was used to things going wrong.  

“Something tells me you want to talk.” He called behind him as he added cream to his cup. He watched as the color of his coffee lightened until it reached the desired hue.  

Sydney weakly snorted as she shrugged out of her puffer and heeled her shoes off at the door. She hung her coat on the rack and sat on the too stiff wooden seat sitting at the table. She sat in silence as the sounds of her father’s spoon clinking against a ceramic mug filled the air.

She absently noted that it was the mug she sculpted for him when she was just 9 years old.

More silence stretched between them.

She liked it though. She didn’t feel the need to perform or pretend like she wasn’t burning on the inside. He finally turned around bringing an extra cup with him, already filled with coffee prepared just how she liked it.  

“What’s on your mind sweet pea?” He took a seat, the wooden chair shifted under his weight and the floor creaked.  

Each time she tried to speak the words died on her tongue. She couldn’t form a coherent thought and the longer she struggled the more she thought about how stupid this all was.

Finally, she let herself breath.

“God, I wish mom were here.” She stared down at her reflection in her coffee. Nearly black with 2 sugars.

“So it’s one of those problems.” He spoke into his cup just before taking a healthy sip. The mug hit the table with a subtle 'clank'. “I can call auntie, but it’s close to midnight where she is.“ He was already moving to grab his phone when she stopped him.

“No, don’t bother auntie!" Her outburst made him pause. He slowly moved back to his previous position, watching his daughter with intensity. "It-“ she sighed glancing between her cup and her father’s befuddled face. He patiently awaited her confession. “It’s just about Carmy…” she bitterly chuckled as she she played with one of her braids. Twisting it around her finger before letting it fall. “Stupid really.”

“Ah,” he raised his eyebrows. “It’s one of those problems.” He hummed, contemplating his next set of words. Silently pondering how to best go about this. “Why do you say it’s stupid?”

She shot him a deadpan stare, “Come on. Boy problems, at this age?” She rested her elbows on the table and ran her hands over her face. Her fingers rested firmly against her eyes.

She pressed and pressed until the burning feeling of tears subsided. She wished she didn’t feel the need to be so strong all the time. She wished she could just breakdown and let those feelings flow instead of intellectualizing them every chance she got.

Emmanuel gently nudged her shoulder effectively bringing her back down to reality.  

“If you have a problem, you have a problem.” He waited until her glassy eyes reached his. “Talk to me, you can tell me anything.”

She sniffled, laying her hands flat against the table, sliding them back so she could feel the smooth surface. A grounding technique that always seemed to work. She slid them until they fell off the table and rested in her lap. It wasn't working this time.

“I just didn’t think I’d ever find myself back here again.” She muttered more to herself than to him. But he nodded along nonetheless. “We broke up. It was finished. Yeah, it was awkward at the restaurant but it was working…” she lifted one shoulder and let it drop before adding. "Working enough." She shook her head in disbelief. “Then- then he came to me for help and I just couldn’t say no. It’s like he knows just what to say and I’d do anything for him. Anything.”  

Emmanuel nodded slowly taking in her words. Hanging onto everything she said, saving his response for later when she was done pouring her heart out.

“Then I learn he hasn’t let go of his ex and they’re still” her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth and she felt her throat burn with constriction. She sipped her coffee, letting the warmth slide down her throat and warm her belly. “They’re still friends and he brought her to family dinner and I don’t know. I think I did something stupid just because I was jealous and afraid. Now i'm debating if I even want to go to California still and you know this opportunity is all I ever really wanted. I still lo-“ she choked on her words before gulping them down.“I just don’t want to lose him.”

He inhaled deeply taking in everything she said. But he thought not to speak. - at least for now. He let her words linger and he let them penetrate his mind. His daughter was his heart, a spitting image of her mother, he just wanted to coddle her. To hold her against him and tell her everything would be okay and that he’d get rid of anything causing her distress.

As he stared at her he realized she wasn’t that little girl playing in his shoes anymore. She wasn't tripping over her feet and scraping her knees on the hot concrete. That was back when his kisses could make the pain go away in an instant. She was different. She had complex thoughts and even more complex feelings that he was afraid to admit he didn’t quite understand.

He didn’t know what to say.

He didn’t know what to do.  

“I ever told you about the time your mother and I broke up?” He watched as her eyes lit up with curiosity. “Yeah it was Summer of '83, she was missing home. Her parents were getting older and she wanted to spend as much time as she could with them.”

She watched as his eyes drifted to the ceiling and he recalled what happened all those years ago.

“I think I told her that if she left me I’d never forgive her, that I’d never speak to her again.”

“God dad.”   

“I know, I know.” He chuckled to himself. “But I just couldn’t imagine losing her or living apart. I wanted a family and I knew I didn’t want that with anybody else but her.” He shrugged. “I was being selfish. Selfish and stupid-”

“What'd she do?” She questioned before the tail end of his sentence could leave his mouth.

“She left.” He chuckled with the shake of his head. “I was dumb, a kid. I didn’t fully understand what love was. I didn’t think it could exist when there was such a great distance between us.”

Sydney thought about Carmy again. The way she’d felt sick at the thought of leaving him and The Bear. She shooed those thoughts away when her father began speaking again.   

“I lasted about three days, I think...” He recalled. “Maybe two and a half before I called her parents’ house. She didn’t want to speak to me but I wore her down and the first thing I said to her was that I missed her and that I was sorry.”   

She felt a warmth spread from her heart throughout her body. Despite herself, a smile broke over her face.  

“She of course told me to go to hell.” He laughed. His infectious laughter pulled Syd in, beckoning her to participate in his delight.

“So what?" She chuckled between her words. "You just wore her down even more?”

“Well, sorta kinda” he hummed with a grin on his face. “I got the next flight out and showed up at her parent’s doorstep with flowers and a ring. Hat in hand, I asked for her back.” He quirked his eyebrow and tilted his head to the side. “I think I gifted her parents some fresh fruit so they didn’t run me off their property.”

“Jesus, so did she take you back?” She leaned forward, cheeks aching from her smile. She loved hearing new stories about her late mother.

It was bittersweet, she knew that one day there wouldn't be anymore stories to tell.

“She did.” He supplied. “I asked her father for her hand that night and we were engaged the next morning. Flew back to the states a few days later.”

“Real smooth dad.” She chuckled. “Did she come back with you?”

“No, she stayed there for a few more months after I went back but we talked all the time. She taught me a lot, Syd.” He rested his hand over hers. “She taught me about patience and trust. She taught me to put myself first just like she did. Most importantly she taught me that love is something tangible, something real and nobody can define what it means for you, but you.” He let her sit with those words. “Now, I can’t tell you what to do in this situation. I know things are different nowadays in relationships. Kids aren’t getting married all willy nilly” he stopped short. “You’re not thinking of marrying this kid are you?”

“No dad.” She replied as she rolled her eyes. “It feels like we are though.”   

“Well, I’ll ask you this: How does he feel about all this?”   

“He-“ she stopped with a sudden realization. She hadn’t even spoken to him. She left him alone in her apartment in her bed after she confessed that she was leaving the state for an undetermined amount of time.

A fog lifted from her mind and it donned on her just how much of an asshole move that was. She hadn't even consider how he'd be taking all this.

“Dad I gotta go.”

Carmy blinked a few times adjusting to the sun's rays bleeding through the blinds. He let a yawn pass his lips as he rubbed his eyes. His arms reached out as the kinks in his shoulder popped and relaxed. He was used to mornings with Syd being spent in leisure. Quiet and intimate.

Whoever woke up first usually started breakfast. They never spent the morning after separated. Syd teased him once about being a ‘water sign’ (whatever that means) but Carmy hated the idea of waking up alone.

This was something Syd knew.

Carmy frowned when he felt that the other side of the bed was cold. He opened his eyes fully to examine the wrinkled bed sheets beside him. She'd been gone so long that the bed was now cold to touch.

“What the?” He turned his head around searching the space for her, listening for anything. “Syd?”

He stood up tugging on his pants and stumbling out of her room.

“Sydney?” He rushed through the space looking for her, a note, anything. But, she simply wasn’t home. He huffed pushing his hair back and staring at the white wall before him. No note, no notice, nothing.

Was he not worth the decency of a quick nudge, ‘Hey I'm headed out’? He just never thought she’d leave her own apartment to avoid an awkward rejection the morning after.

He felt so stupid.

He never felt stupider.

Of course, this was nothing, of course, this was a sympathy fuck or something worse. Like closure.

What else could it have been if shes that eager to get up and leave?

Carmy’s spiral of self-deprecation was cut short by the sound of keys turning in the door.

“You’re up!” She notes before turning completely around and locking the door. She used this precious time to squeeze her eyes shut and count to five. With a steadying breath, she turned around to face Carmy.

She always loved how sensitive he was when it was just the two of them. It was the look on his face that reminded her of their little agreement.

Leaving each other after having sex wasn’t something they did. Sex felt sacred to them, the time carved out was far too precious to ignore. After breaking up, the pact to remain in each other's embrace after still stood apparently.

“Yeah, I’m up!” He met her with a warm embrace, a warm smile on his face.

She was surprised at his reaction but decided that she liked this more than the expected awkwardness.

“Sorry, you had to wake up alone.” She exhaled sincerely into his shoulder.

He closed his eyes enjoying their closeness before pulling away.

“Where were you?” He grabbed the bags out of her hand and pecked her cheek before bringing them to the kitchen. “What's all this? You went grocery shopping?”

“Yeah on my way back I stopped by the store. I’m out of eggs and bacon and milk and you know everything.” She shrugged. “Wanted to make us breakfast.”

Something to soften the blow. Butter him up.

“That tends to happen when you spend all of your time at the restaurant.” He replied, playful sarcasm in his voice. He moved to begin cooking their breakfast. “Don’t feel bad, my place doesn’t look much better anyways.”

She wanted to help him but holding onto this secret, this brewing confession, left her mute and stagnant. After a few moments of watching him she cleared her throat and leaned against the counter.

“I bet.” She remembers all the mornings and nights when they had to make something out of thin air or order delivery if they were too tired from working.

She began putting the groceries Carmy didn’t need away.

"Where were you on your way back from?"

“Oh yeah I um I also went by my dads...”

Carmy sliced a square of butter and let it sizzle in the skillet. Something peculiar was in her tone, he knew that much.

“Yeah? How is he?” He glanced over at her finding that her face matched her tone. Peculiar.

“Still buying canned cabbage.”

He barked a laugh before sparing her a glance. “Gotta get him to see the light, Chef!”

“I’ve been trying, Chef.” They both laughed, naturally letting it tapper out. A swollen silence filled the air. “I talked to him about us”

That seemed to make Carmy’s ears perk up. “What about us?” He tried to keep his tone casual, but she knew him well. Each inflection in his voice stuck out like a sore thumb. No matter how normal he tried to sound.  

“I asked for advice.” She slowly delivered “Carmy. I don’t know if what we did was smart.”

He momentarily stopped scrambling the sizzling eggs, it was only for a second but the hitch in movement was noticeable.

“I’m not saying I regret it or anything,” She supplied quickly. “But I already have my plane ticket. I’m leave soon and we’re-“

“We’re not gonna work long distance.” He finished her sentence, realization seemingly hitting him in that moment. “You're right we won’t.” He admitted dejectedly.

Frankly, she was surprised by his answer and how understanding he sounded. She wished that she could fully understand the breadth of her decision herself.

She promised herself from a young age that she’d never let anything hold her back from her dreams - not money, not circumstances, not relationships - one thing seemed to slip through the cracks.

She misses when she never looked twice in a guys (or a girls, for that matter) general direction.

She kept her head down for so long working, working, working now her dreams were being fulfilled right before her eyes and she found herself hesitating. All because of some blue eyed man with anger issues.

She didn’t want to leave him. She didn’t want to leave The Bear.

But she knew she had to. She’d resent him. She’d resent herself. If her mother’s death taught her anything, its to always live your life for yourself. Time here on earth was so short, a drop in the boundless ocean. She had to spend her time doing what she loved even if it called for great sacrifice.

“I can’t pass this up.” Her voice cracked. A very surreal feeling thickened the air as they accepted defeat.

This felt eerily final. 

“I wouldn’t want you to," He let a beat pass before adding on an obligatory, “Chef.” He sighs, clicking the front burner up a few notches. “Just don’t go over there and decide you like working in their kitchen more than mine."

"Yours?" She raised an eyebrow, her teeth winked at him as she smiled.

"Ours." They both smiled at his words and settled into more tension-filled silence.

“What's gonna happen to us?”

Carmy rattled the words around in his head as he plated the eggs and moved on to frying bacon. He focused on the popping sound of the grease and the smell of crisping pork. His movements were cathartic.

Cooking never left him. It never disappointed him. He could rely on this.

“Carm?” She tilts her head and meets his eyes.

“Sorry.” He cleared his throat “We'll be,” he searched for the words. What would ex-lovers become if they ran a restaurant together? "Friends?"

She chuckled surprised at how heavy and foreign the word sounded in this context. But that was better than strangers or whatever the fuck they've been these past couple months.

"Friends with Chef Carmen Berzatto." She slowly nodded becoming familiar with the term that now described their relationship. "I'll take it."

They waited for the words to settle and for the air to return back to normal but it hadn't and eventually Carmy finished plating their breakfast.

"I'm gonna hop in the shower then head out.” He began walking away before she could reply.

"We're not eating together?"

"I'm not that hungry actually!" He closed the bathroom door behind him.

Time apart would be good, Carmy thought. They’d get time to think and to grow. This was good.

This had to be good.

✓ A pen.

✓ The ceiling fan.

✓ Boots.

✓ The TV.

✓ A pillow.

Five things he could see, check.

‘Gauge your surroundings. This will help ground you.’

Carmy's therapist taught him this method not too long ago. It quickly became one of the only things that could ground him nowadays.

She taught it to him towards the end of one of their first sessions. Her voice was calm and slow, drawing him out in a steady tempo of gentle negotiation. She spoke to him as if he had a bomb strapped to his chest and any sudden movements would set it off. He’ll never forget that day.

He was finally opening up about Mikey, telling her all about how they didn't have the best relationship but he somehow felt closer to him after his death. He hadn't realized how much he'd spaced out until he opened his eyes and he was back in his mother's house. Glass was breaking. A million alarms blared in his ears replacing his thoughts. Everybody was yelling. He couldn't breathe.

A panic attack in front of a stranger was new.

When he finally calmed down he realized that the world hadn't exploded and chunks of the rock weren't drifting through space leaving him to float in the vast unknown.

He was still in her office. He was still alive.

He blinked the memory away and rubbed his hands against his jeans, hoping the rough feeling against his sweaty palms would bring him back to earth.

He began naming four things he could touch under his breath.

"Jeans." He continued moving his hands over his thighs.

"Lambskin jacket." The inside was lined with fur.

"Shutter." It sat atop his bedside lamp - the warmth felt nice again his palm.

"Blanket." Sugar gifted it to him this past Christmas, it was way too fluffy but it did keep him warm at night.

What could he hear?

A bird chirping just outside of the window. It’d been going for a while he realized.

The low hum of electricity.

His phone beeping.

He took note. Then it beeped again and again until he descended from the clouds and found that it was ringing. He did a double-take at the contact before answering.

“Carmy?” Her voice bled through the receiver and he felt like he could breathe again.

Light. He felt it shining through the phone.

“You there?”

“Yeah, I,” He inhaled more air before blowing it out in once quick exhale. “I’m here.”

“Are you okay?” She worried her bottom lip, listening for any signs of distress.

She promised herself before her move that she'd focus on looking forward not back. But being friends with Carmy kept her feet firmly planted in the past. She felt them slipping back into the place they were at just before they got together.

Their exchanges were far too soft, far too thoughtful, and far too tense to be simply platonic. She had to remind herself that they'd been there and done that. This was good.

This was better.

“I am. I was just- it’s nothing." He scratched the back of his head. Unruly curls tangled around his nimble fingers. "Trying this 5,4,3,2,1 method my therapist taught me. It helps me calm down..." He plopped down on his couch and threw his head back to stare at the ceiling. "I was actually thinking about things I could hear before you called.”

“I know that method." She replied before checking the time.

She didn't need to leave for another 15 minutes. “If I’m not mistaken you have 2 more steps to go then.”

“I'm okay now, you- you help me breathe.” He confessed through a relieved chuckle. "So, tell me are you running that place yet or what?"

Sydney grinned but didn't let his charming words deter her. “What are two things you can smell.” She encouraged.

He realized his leg was still bouncing, maybe he wasn’t completely grounded. “I made spaghetti earlier and accidentally put too much garlic, so, garlic.”

“I bet it was still fire.” She hummed almost dreamily remembering the taste of his cooking.

“Wish you were here to taste it.” He muttered sadly playing with a rip in his jeans.

“Alright, big guy don’t go soft on me now.” She teased ignoring the butterflies in her belly. “What else can you smell?”

“Ah, my cologne I guess it’s new I kinda hate it." He pulled at the collar of his shirt, bringing it up to his nose before dropping it. "Too, I don’t know, fancy.”

“Yeah, you do love an earthy scent." She closed her eyes missing him now more than ever. Missing the way he smelled when he held her close and did the thing with his hips that made her words sound like simlish. "Now lastly what can you taste?”

“I had a stick of orbit earlier and the taste is still in my mouth.” He waited a beat. "Happy now?"

“Beaming!" She switched ears and walked to look out her window.

The small apartment she was subleasing was located smack dab in the middle of the art district. She enjoyed the sounds of the neighborhood at night and there was always some sort of performance art near the corner store she frequented. None of that mattered though, she rarely got to enjoy the artistic views because just outside of her window was a brick wall.

She ignored the symbolic implications that screamed at her every time she'd stare at it for too long.

“I feel alright- great actually, thank you Syd”

“No prob Carm." The heavy silence only reminded them of their distance. Sydney was the first to speak. "I'm adjusting to this place quicker than I expected actually.”

“Of course you are. You’re an amazing cook.”

He closed his eyes, trying to conjure her image in his head.

It was fuzzy and out of focus. Her complexion wasn't as vibrant. Her eyes were the wrong shade of brown. He missed how they flashed red in the sun. And pictures were just sobering reminders that she wasn't there with him.

He had to stop looking at them for his sanity.

“You’re reliable and confident."

A day without seeing her face was a day too many.

"Hey, you wanna Facetime?”

“Yeah one sec.” After a few seconds her face came into view.

Carmy felt his chest tighten. He’d spent their time apart creating this image of her in his head. He assumed because he missed her so much the image he created wasn’t accurate, there’s no way that she was that beautiful.

She was though. She was even more captivating than he remembered.

 Ve​nust: beautiful, comely, graceful, elegant.

Their busy schedules kept them from speaking to each as often as they wanted. Even when she lived in Chicago, they’d seen each other mostly in the kitchen.

Now they had to schedule appointments to talk. How bleak.

This phone call wasn't scheduled though.

“Hey, why’d you call?”

“Shit! Right, I called you. I was talking to Marcus the other day and apparently his friend from Copenhagen is coming here to fill in for someone. Isn’t that cool?”

She had her phone set up on her counter as she went about cooking. Carmy watched her in silence missing the way she moved around his kitchen.

“Luca? That's new. At least you'll kinda know someone there.” He hummed. “Are you making Bouillabaisse?”

"He's supposed to be arriving tomorrow." She stirred her simmering concoction. "How do you do that?" She chuckles keeping her eyes on the cloudy liquid. “I am. I’m cooking for everybody tomorrow including Luca and I’m super nervous so I’m trying out a few things!”

“Why are you so nervous?” He could really only think of one or two times she was genuinely nervous about her cooking.

Each time he wanted to grab her and convince her just how amazing she was. To stop doubting herself.

Then again he was probably being bias.

“Marcus speaks so highly of Luca and I know you and him are acquainted. I just want to live up to the hype.” She rambled.

“You will Syd.” He promised.

It was late. It was very late in Chicago so it was late in California and she still hadn't called.

He'd been busy all day so he didn't think twice about her promise to call later that day. But, he couldn't sleep and he'd grown tired of watching black and white reruns.

He tried not to watch his phone like a hawk but each time it lit up he couldn't help but grab it.

When she finally did call he had nodded off to sleep.

"Did I wake you I'm sorry!" She winced realizing how late it must've been. "I'll call back-"

"No!" He sat up "it's okay, I'm up." He yawned checking the time, 3:00 AM. He yawned again as he stood to grab a glass of water. "What's got you out so late?"

"It's only 1:00 where I am!"

"Still."

"Luca brought this special wine and we all got drunk off of one glass and did karaoke"

"Sounds like fun." He replied sincerely, preoccupied with boiling water. Tea would help him get back to sleep after their conversation. "How was the dinner? Did you impress everybody?"

"I did!" She exclaimed. "Sorry if I’m being loud.” He could almost see the expression she was donning. “Did you know that weed is legal here?"

Carmy grinned realizing she was still tipsy and probably a little buzzed. Whenever she had a little bit too much to drink she'd get this slur in her speech. Each word would hug the next and her Chicagoan accent grew thicker. She laughed a lot more, Carmy would worry about her cheeks hurting by the end of the night.

He gnawed on his lip to keep from confessing how badly he wanted to see her and kiss that smile off of her face. That's not how friends talked to each other after all.

"They loved it but Luca made this braised wagyu," She groaned. "Hands down, the best dish I've ever had!"

Carmy paused switching his phone to the other ear. "The best?" He masked the crack in his voice with a chuckle. "Luca?" He scrunched his nose up.

He didn't understand why that statement made him feel uncomfortable (for lack of a better term) but it did and he didn't like it. Previous to this development she always remarked about how his food was the best she ever had. He held that close to him, clinched between his finger afraid of losing it. Afraid of losing her favor. Her compliments felt like a drug and he was forever chasing that high. Wanting to please her. Have her direct that smile and those dangerous eyes at him. 

"Yes, you have to try it!"

"Maybe...'m not a huge fan of Wagyu. Also, I've tried his cooking before." He didn't know why he was lying. He loved Wagyu.

Luca was a good enough cook, not better than Carmy, but decent.

His hands rattled as he stirred honey into his piping hot tea. That unwelcome feeling twisted within him tugging him down to a level of immaturity he despised. Maybe as a teenager this would feel more normal but as he stands now it felt unhinged.

His chest burned as he tuned back into Syd's rambling.

"…I invited him to eat at The Bear when I fly back for my birthday next month."

"Ah, so you two are friends?" He continued, voice soft. He couldn't bring himself to ask her the question any louder.

"Of course! He's so cool Carmy. He's a beast in the kitchen. He's teaching me how to make this cake that has an insane amount of layers tomorrow."

"You really like this guy..." He muttered. "I'm happy you're getting on well there. Really, Syd you deserve this." He continued with renewed interest.

Aside from those weird feelings, he couldn't quite pin down, he knew that his job was hyping her up. Being a supporter. A friend.

One day he’ll stop having to remind himself of that sobering fact. 

"Thanks." She settled on her bed. "I miss you."

He hoped it happened soon.

"I miss y-" he began, but she continued on without missing a beat.

"I miss everybody at The Bear"

"Well, we miss you too."

Today was slow. It went smoothly. There were virtually no mistakes made in the kitchen and Carmy found himself with extra time on his hands.

He could be normal and go home or go out for a drink, but alas he preferred the kitchen. There was always something to do in the kitchen after all.

"Hey are you busy?" Sydney lounged on her couch, exhausted from the busy day she had.

He looked around finding that he was in fact not busy and had finished all of his tasks.

"Nope, what's up?"

"I got secret shopped again!"

"Damn chef," he whistled "you're on fire. Once this year once last year."

"The asswipe said my lobster tail was 'overcooked'."

"Lobster tails' easy to mess up." He shrugged "I have this method I can show you when you visit."

"No, actually its okay. Luca taught me this technique and it came out so much better."

“Right, right." He cleared his throat hoping the popping in his ears stopped. He tugged on his earlobe before grabbing a damp towel and wiping down the same spot he'd just finished wiping down.

There goes that weird feeling again, creeping up his body forcing him to move until it subsided.

"What is he like,” he hesitated. “He’s mentoring you now?”

If she heard the shakiness in his voice she ignored it.

"Not sure if I'd say all that. He's a good teacher though, kinda filling that gap." She replied busy multitasking.

Her phone sat on the bathroom counter with the speaker turned up so she could still carry on with the conversation. Her braids bunched up comfortably under her silk scarf. By morning her scarf would've slipped from her head and made its way to the floor and her braids would be sprawled across her silk pillow. It's the thought that counts.

"You told me he was good but dude he's like your level good."

She grabbed her phone and made her way to bed. At the sound of his bashful laughter she felt a pinch in her chest akin to an esophageal spasm.

Missing him had grown physical and she just wanted to keep him on the phone. She was hoping that the sound of his voice bleeding through her phone would comfort her.

She could lie back and imagine that he was right beside her, that he followed her here like she wanted him to. But he had his own shit he had to sort out. She knew begging him to come and see her every time she missed him wouldn't be feasible because she missed him every second of every day.

But Carmy, who was on the other side of the world, it seemed, didn't know this. He only heard her praises of Luca shooting out of the phone like spears and piercing him until he didn't want to be on the phone with her anymore.

"I actually do have something I need to do. Catch up later?"

"Sure..." she stared at her phone screen as he hung up.

She remained there trying to figure out where things went wrong and why he rushed off the phone. The screen soon turned black and she saw her reflection staring back at her.

She didn't get much sleep that night.

"So you're just not gonna visit?" He frowned. "It's your birthday Syd, come on just take a couple days off I'll buy you a ticket myself."

'I just wanna see you!' He stubbornly thought.

"I can't. It sucks for me too, but it’s the mayor. I can't exactly pass up serving the mayor." She frowned looking at a framed photo of the two of them at The Bear's official opening.

'"Come on Carmy stop working for one second and get a picture with Syd!" Sugar grabbed his arm dragging him out of the kitchen and out front where Sydney directed a delivery man around back. She moved to follow him and make sure he found his way when Sug grabbed her arm and placed her next to an annoyed Carmy.

"Natalie we open in 2 hours I don't have time for this." He huffed placing his hands on his hips.

"Yeah and I think he's taking the order to the wrong entrance." Syd looked behind her following a delivery man with her eyes. She began to call out to him when Sug grabbed her shoulder making her turn back around.

"If you two stand still for a second I can get a picture and you can go back to stressing out, okay?" She rolled her eyes "You guys looks so cute in your matching outfits!" She beamed holding her phone up.

"Uh, everybody's wearing these?" Sydney looked around ignoring Sugars sound of indignation. Carmy stifled a laugh agreeing with her.

"Just smile." She gave up trying to reason with them. Carmy threw his hand over Syd's shoulder and threw his other hand out to Sugar.

"Okay, okay see I'm smiling come on take the picture!"

Syd was caught laughing, her eyes closed. While Carmy was caught with his mouth open, his hand thrown towards the camera. He hated it, but Syd thought it was perfect.

"No, no- yeah, you're right." He settled. Not much else was said after that. Carmy sighed closing the cookbook he'd been perusing for the perfect cake recipe and headed home.

“Fuck, sorry Chef!” Syd winced feeling warm all over. She’d stayed behind with Luca so he could teach her a few tricks. However, in the span of just an hour she compared his cooking techniques to Carmy’s about five times. But who's counting.

“All good, Syd. I never thought about trying that! He laughed. “And relax you can call me Luca”

”Right, Luca.” She continued “I’m just feeling a little homesick. My birthday is tomorrow and I decided to stay back because you know the whole mayor hoopla.”

She was close to saying screw the mayor just so she could hop on a red eye and do something pathetic like beg her ex-boyfriend for sloppy, rough, no-strings-attached birthday sex.

He nodded sympathetically before putting down his knife, a brilliant idea on his tongue.

“How about I take you out for a drink afterwards?”

”Maybe...I’m usually so tired after work. I was talking to a few servers last week and Fay talked about wanting to go out this weekend too-”

”I mean I can take you.” He waited a beat before hesitantly adding. “Just us...”

”Oh," she cleared her throat finding it harder to look him in the eyes. "Like a date?” She raised an eyebrow.

”Yes," he chuckled. "If that’s okay with you?”

She never got used to being hit on or asked out. She grew up awkward and introverted. But something happened when she turned 20.

Like a Cinderella transformation or something. Men were falling over themselves. Women began batting their eyelashes at her and inviting her to sleepovers. She soon realized that they were flirting with her and by sleepovers they meant sex.

Her immediate thought was to turn him down. But she couldn't find a good enough reason other than it would probably hurt Carmy's feelings.

He had been dodging her phone calls though. They barely spoke these days. Maybe he's moved on. Maybe he didn't care what she did.

She eventually remembered herself and she remembered that she and Carmy were just friends. So she put on her best smile and nodded.

"I'd love that."

Later That Evening

“I got the knives you sent me." She toyed with one, balancing it on her fingertips gauging how heavy it was. "Thank you they're really fucking nice.”

“I'm happy you like them. Just something I saw and decided to pick up...” He ran a shaky hand over his mouth. "For you. F-For your birthday I mean."

He didn't know when he started feeling nervous speaking to her but it sucked. He felt like a teenager. He even found himself avoiding her calls, figuring that if they continued speaking every day and night he'd never get over her.

At this point he didn't know if he wanted to get over her or if it was a possibility.

She'd gotten under his skin. Digging her way to his fractured heart and somehow making a home out of it.

He felt like a fucking loser, blushing during a phone call. A fucking phone call.

“You saw five hundred-dollar knives just lying around and bought them?" She replied endeared.

“Well, you know how it goes." He shrugged.

Heat rushed to his face again.

Realistically he figured he was going to get them for her months ago, but telling her that felt too eager. Like he was trying too hard to impress her.

“So," She sat the knife down but couldn't stop eyeing it. The pristine set sparkled under the warm lighting in her living room. Her eyes caught her name engraved at the bottom of one of the vegetable knives. 

Warmth covered her neck and traveled up her cheeks.

''Just decided to pick them up' my ass.'

"How's The Bear been with me gone?”

“You know, we’re staying afloat. The new hires are all great. Everybody's been getting better and better. And Marcus?" He whistled. "He's doing some shit I haven't even tried."

"I'm gonna have to ask him to overnight me some donuts or something." Her phone vibrated momentarily pulling her from the conversation.

Luca (restaurant): I know we'll probably be wiped after tomorrow so I'll stop by later on around midnight? I know this great place that's open late

"Looks like Copenhagen did him well." Carmy noted.

Like an incessant alarm her conscience rudely screamed at her. She had to tell him sooner or later.

"Hey, so, speaking of Denmark, I have a um I have something to tell you..."

He waited for her to continue speaking for a bit, but her deep sigh caught his attention.

"Whats up? Everything okay?"

“It's just-" she clenched her fist over her mouth wanting to swallow her next set of words. Through gritted teeth she finally choked it out. "Me and Luca are go-going on a, going on a date tomorrow." She waited a beat. "He wanted to take me out for my birthday!" Another awkward beat. "And I thought it’d be weird for me not to tell you considering...well you know.”

He didn’t speak for a while.

"I'm sorry if that's weird but I'd feel weirder not telling you." She winced bracing herself as she awaited his response.

He blinked a few times, pulling his phone away from his ear to look at her contact photo. Yeah that was still Syd on the phone.

He felt like he was speaking with a stranger not the girl he loved. The girl who would never purposely hurt him. Her voice was muffled, like she'd been submerged in water.

Now he wanted to be as far away from his phone as possible.

"You still there?" She bit her thumbnail regretting her words.

"I am I" He cleared his throat, rubbing his eye with the heel of his hand. "I just didn't expect that. That's all.” His voice quieted, just above a whisper now.

"I know. Was it weird that I told you? Are things weird now?" She tried to keep the panic out of her voice but it was evident.

"No, not weird." He cleared his throat in an attempt to find his voice. But when he spoke again the only thing he could muster was a hint of what his voice could be.

If Syd didn't know any better she'd think she heard heartbreak in his voice. But they were over right? They'd been over. They had to move on from each other.

Lingering wasn't healthy. No matter how romantic The Cranberries made it sound. 

Although she felt this way, she couldn't help but feel like she betrayed him. A Delilah stringing her lover along just to chop off his golden curls when he slipped into comfort. Just when he felt like he could let his guard down.

"I am a little busy so-so I have to check on that uh that," he snapped his fingers a few times. "Delivery. The delivery for tomorrow morning."

"Wait, what? I don't understand?"

"I'll touch bases with you this weekend." He didn't wait for her to answer before hanging up.

Syd found herself once again staring at her phone screen. It lit up momentarily reminding her of the unanswered text from Luca. With little reluctance she replied.

Syd: I can't wait! :)

Dinner went off without a hitch and the mayor even complement Sydney personally. By 10:00 P.M. she was on her way home and by 10:30 she sat on her couch, finger hovering over Carmy's name.

"He doesn't care Syd." He hadn't even wished her a happy birthday. "Just get ready for your date." She whispered to herself. "Maybe, I'll just send a text..."

Syd: Not to brag but the mayor said she never had a steak quite like mine

With that done she plugged her phone in the charger and began getting ready for her date. The date she was excited to go on and not at all dreading.

Every 10 minutes she'd check her phone for a response from Carmy. But nothing, he hadn't even seen the message. She huffed turning back to the mirror to pull her braids into a high ponytail.

The doorbell chimed over the radio playing oldies in her living room.

“Fuck he’s here early!” She cursed checking the time before rushing to the door only to find someone she thought she left back in Chicago.

“Carmy?”

“Hey." He strolled inside pulling his luggage behind him. His baby blues drinking her in. “You look nice.”

Keep it polite, he reminded himself. She looked more than nice, skin shiny and sparkling. Perfume pulling him closer and closer.

He cracked his knuckles, stopping himself from reaching out and touching her.

There were moments, fleeting, minuscule, when her voice would radiate from his phone. Resonating, seducing him. It made him want to reach through the receiver and feel her warmth.

He had to settle on touching himself. Then he'd feel like a creep and swear it off. It never stuck.

Now she was here, within reach, looking like that for someone else. He brushed his knuckles against his lips admiring her from a safe distance.

“Got any plans?”

She blinked a few times, hand still on the nob, door ajar. "Uh yeah, Luca is on his way.” She scoffed finally snapping out of it.

With each stride she took toward him, he felt his pulse drum faster.

“I told you that last night?”

She crossed her arms watching as he studied her. As if she were a puzzle or a Monet. He marveled almost. No one ever looked at her quite like he did.

“Right, you two are seeing each other or whatever.” He twisted his mouth instantly wanting the nasty taste of those words out his mouth.

He distracted himself by looking around her living room. His heart lurched when he came across a photo of the two of them on the morning of The Bear's official open. The entire staff took turns taking pictures together, they took several as a group but Sug just couldn’t resist getting a pic of them out front in their matching fits.

It was framed, he noted with reddening cheeks. "You got it framed.” He cooed just under a whisper.

“Of course, it's my proudest accomplishment.” His black t-shirt stretched across his back as he leaned forward to examine the picture more closely. A few strands of his hair were kissing his forehead when he faced her again.

"Proudest huh?" Something was different about him. Whatever it was evaded her. His hair wasn't in it's normal state, busy and tangled, instead his curls neatly sat upon his crown. He never really wore jewelry but now he donned a thin chain that played peak-a-boo with her wandering eyes. "Mine too."

He wasn't as jittery as he usually was. His hands were still, almost too still. This wasn't the Carmy she left in Chicago. He momentarily broke eye contact, a fleeting admission of anxiety that was gone by the time he captured her gaze again.

This was a facade she decided. There was something troubling him. Something huge that she knew he wouldn't be able to keep under wraps for long.

His tongue grazed his bottom lip, she watched it go.

She shook her head, plunging her thoughts into ice cold water.

"That's doesn't- what are you doing here?"

"Ouch" he placed a hand over his chest, leaning back as if she physically hit him. "Is it a crime to visit my friend?"

She cut her eyes at him growing increasingly more frustrated at his casualness. His gum chewing. His stupid hair that was always messy but for some reason was now perfect. And god those stupid eyes, she could excuse everything else if it wasn't for his penetrative stare.

Always calling to her. Burning up her skin, leaving her insides vibrating for minutes until she worked up the courage to will those feelings away.

"Carmen," she took a deep breath. "Please don't play with me right now. I have plans."

"Right, and you're still going?" He questioned like he was asking her for the time. "Because I really need to talk to you."

"What? I'm supposed to overlook you conveniently showing up the night I have a date?" She blew a raspberry, feeling her nerves burn up at his expression. "And stop looking at me like that!"

He maintained eye contact, trying his hardest to keep his smile at bay. He missed this.

"Okay I admit my timing isn't the best..." He trailed off shoving his hands in his pocket. "But I just needed to see you, Sydney. I need to talk to you."

"I actually have this really cool new invention called the cellphone-" she crossed the room grabbing her phone. The device flashed on as she turned around holding it up. "Would you look at that? It works! Did you forget that the phone worked both ways?"

"In person," he sighed finally dropping his facade. Apparently his sad attempt at charm was falling on deaf ears. "Can I please have a second of you time? Then I'm gone." His previous bravado had dissipated, leaving room for him to be himself. "I just need to, need you to hear me."

She shouldn't be talking to him right now. She left him in Chicago. She left all that stress and dysfunction, and this relationship behind. How did it still find her? What possessed him to chase after her?

"Luca will be here any minute, I mean after-"

"Why do you like him so much?" He cut her off, twiddling his thumbs - a pensive expression covering his face. He rubbed a finger over his eyebrow, a nervous tick. "Its like all you talk about is him. What is it? Are you fa-falling" he gulped, trying to conjure moisture in his mouth. "How serious are you two?"

"Carmen Berzatto, you took a 4 hour flight because I'm going out on one date with a guy I've known for a few months?" She shook her head. "This can't be healthy."

"I just need to know if you plan on dating this guy." He shrugged, hands palm up and outstretched. "As your friend I feel like I have an obligation. I care about you so much-"

"Cut the shit. You came here because you're jealous."

He felt the tips of his ears warm at her accusation. A very true one at that.

"I've been obsessed with you since before we even spoke to each other and I finally have the guts to have a drink with some other guy and you do this?"

“It's not just that Syd" His voice teetering on a desperate plea. Fuck if it didn't tug at her heart strings.

"Then what is it? What made you get your ass on a plane and show up at my door in the middle of the night."

He ran a hand through his hair effectively messing up the expert styling he'd done in the airport bathroom. "I-I missed you and I wanted to talk to you, and it's your birthday."

She stared at him long and hard before giving up and plopping down on her couch. "Okay. What did you want to talk about?" She checked her phone to find Luca had sent an 'On the way!' text.

"Are you thinking of moving here? Permanently, I mean." He sat on the bar stool adjacent from her, his leg shaking incessantly. "You mentioned Luca being the best cook in the world or something like that and I just wanted to know if you thought he was good enough to stay or maybe you'd want to go cook with him where ever he ends up."

She quirked her eyebrow, taking time to survey his face for any sign of humor but he was stone cold serious. That was when she surprised herself - and Carmy - with laughter.

"You're serious right now?"

"What? Why are you laughing at me?" He stopped shaking his leg. That reaction wasn't right, was it?

"I'm not..." She shook her head as she lifted up a finger. The sweet sound floated around them. Carmy shifted uncomfortably noticing how warm his face was growing. "All of this is because I said I liked his cooking?"

"No." He balked. Even he could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

She tilted her head to the side letting her laughter subside. She was looking at him how she used to again. With warmth and maybe even love, but he didn't want to get his hopes up.

"He's not going to replace you Carmy."

He felt embarrassed. Like these last few months in therapy were all for nothing. He didn't try any of his exercises and he overreacted. Now he felt like a possessive prick who can't get over his ex-girlfriend - who works for him.

He should probably make Sug head of HR, because their lack thereof was becoming starkly noticeable.

He should just leave. Go before she could officially cut him off. Get out of her hair for good. He didn't remember standing up but she was soon standing before him, placing a gentle hands on his shoulders.

"Stop it." She broke through his thoughts.

"What?"

"I said stop it. God I can hear your thoughts from here." She inched closer to him before running her hand from his shoulders to his clammy hands "Luca is cool and yes we have a date but I think I have something to say to you too."

He stiffened staring at their joined hands.

"Whats that?" He replied thickly. As if tears were threatening there way out of his downcast eyes.

She used two fingers to lift his head until he was looking her in the eyes.

"Carmy, I'm not going anywhere." Flashes of his vulnerable confession just before they hooked up came back to her.

She wanted to say this back then, she wanted to tell him that she didn't want their hookup to be a dead end but she felt weak for feeling that way. Like she had to prove something to herself, to the world, and to Carmy. She wanted to prove that he didn't have the upper hand. She could now see how naive that was.

"I want to be with you. L-like we were before, but healthier." She suppressed a grin but he caught it. "I have this huge, never ending, and frankly inconvenient crush on you. And I don't know man, it's gonna take a lot to get rid of me."

”I love you." It felt like the weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Like he'd been baptized in cool water and his vitality had been renewed. "I don’t want you to feel like I’m this brainless prick. I know I don't own you and coming here was probably the last thing you wanted but-" he grabbed both her hands. "It's you Syd. You drive me crazy."

Bright flecks of happiness peaked from within him and shined against Sydney.

"And it's you."

Those grating feelings of uncertainly that dominated his thoughts and body began seeping out, never to be felt again. He was ready to let go of the baggage that came with doubt. He hoped Syd wouldn't pick it back up.

"So, what are you saying? You want me back?" He knocked their hands together, swinging them in a childlike bout of giddiness.

"Only if you'll take me back." She confessed, remaining hopeful that they were still on the same page.

He brought her hands up to his mouth and kissed each knuckle keeping his eyes connected with hers.

"Are you crazy?" And that was all it took really. He let go of her hands and didn't spare a second to pull her against his chest and inhale the fruitiness of her aroma.

She smelled like a freshly cut mango on a summer day. When you'd suck at the seed and the nectar would run down your arms. You couldn't bring yourself to care because it tasted so damn good.

Her lips felt like home. She tasted like she had before. He cradled her head between his hands, devouring her. His hands traveled down to her waist pulling her flush against him.

She gasped at the movement but let him will her body to his control. She missed how he held her. She missed how his hair felt between her fingers. How he kissed her like he couldn't get enough of her. His kiss was something that never changed.

He didn't care to pull away or open his eyes when the doorbell rang. Syd felt his arms pull her impossibly closer when there was a knock.

He'd forgotten all about Luca, who was innocent in all of this, but he was having a hard time rationalizing that.

Syd was the one that pulled back causing a sound of disapproval to leave Carmy's mouth. She remained in his grasp. She wasn't sure if she could get out of it if she tried. His hands clasped her in a firm grip, like she'd slip away if he let go.

"What are you gonna do?" He questioned bracing himself for her answer. She looked from him to the door and back again.

"I'll go talk to Luca." She decided. "I'll let him know I can't come out tonight."

"Okay." He breathed, finally letting her go. He missed her softness, how had he gone so long without this.

She pecked his cheek sweetly, briefly, admiring the scattered freckles littering his neck.

“Be right back." She promised before turning to get the door.

Carmy watched as the door closed behind her. He exhaled and looked up to the ceiling and thanked whatever god was up there that coming here actually worked. 

"Woah Syd, in a hurry to go?" Luca jested backing up as Syd stepped outside. He looked down admiring her outfit choice but stopping short at her feet. More specifically her choice in shoes. "No offense but, are these house slippers?"

"Uh," she glanced down. "Yes they are. Look-" She was trying and failing at internally psyching herself up. She loved Carmy, but this still made her feel like shit. "You know Carmy right? Chef Carmen Berzatto?"

He slowly nodded and raised an eyebrow. "I think you may have mentioned him once or twice also I kind of worked with him." He chuckled teasingly. "What about him?"

"Right, you did." She winced. "He actually dropped in and I'd feel bad leaving him inside and I'm so sorry but"

"You're canceling our date." He supplied.

She nodded shamefully. "Sorry, I just - we, I mean Carmy and I- and, and you drove all the way here. I just"

"Hey, hey Sydney it's alright." He laughed, hand shooting up to stop her. "I understand. We aren't reciting vows." He laughed more so to himself this time. "Mind if I say hello?"

She hummed imaging how that could turn out. She considered them being adults and not animals but she also considered how badly she wanted to send him away and climb on top of Carmy and stay there until the sun came up.

"Sure." She welcomed him in.

Carmy paused his nervous pacing, his eyes caught Syd's as she put on her best I'm sorry face and mouthed 'Be nice'.

"Chef Berzatto!" He reached a hand out waiting for Carmy to shake it. Carmy stared at it before Syd coughed breaking him out of it and forcing him to shake Luca's hand.

"Hey man." He cleared his throat shoving his hands in his pocket. A bout of awkward silence passes through the room. "How you been? Marcus said you've made quite the name for yourself in Denmark."

"I could say the same about you." He grinned "It's been great though. But it's different here. I'm actually considering a move out here, check out a few more places. Mind if I borrow Chef Sydney though?"

Carmy didn't answer not knowing exactly how to respond without it coming out snarky or rude. So he simply didn't respond.

"Just jokes, just jokes!" He broke the tension. "Well, I just came in to say hello. See how you were getting on."

"You know how it is, Chef. There's always something." He replied plainly.

Luca nodded sensing that his presence was no longer wanted. The air was slowly being sucked out of the room. The longer he stood between Syd and Carmy the more he realized their building tension.

When he moved she moved, when she breathed he replied with his own pattern of inhale and exhale. After seeing the way Sydney looked at Carmy he wondered how he ever thought she looked at him with any hint of attraction.

"I'm gonna head out." He nodded his head towards the door. "Bye Syd, see you Saturday. Come in early so I can finally teach you how to make Chocolat au Crumble de Fraises." He closed the door behind him.

Carmy kept his eyes on the door. "Have I ever told you how annoying that guys is?" 

Syd laughed sauntering over to her cabinet to pour herself a drink.

"Shut up Luca is a cool guy."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." He playfully replied following her path and grabbing himself a glass. "Hey, I'm sorry about not telling you about inviting" he cleared his throat, "yeah to-to uh dinner."

"Carmy..."

"Please, just, can I actually offer a real explanation?" He waited for her to give him the go.

After she nodded he continued

"We ran into each other, randomly, she was still a little prickly towards me. I you know, I felt so bad. She's still a friend of the family, right? And I didn't know what to say, so I invited her to dinner. I didn't stay the entire night and left before we even got to the second course." He gulped down his brown liquor. "We haven't spoken since. Promise."

She looked down at her drink. Warmth covering her face. She was thankful of her rich complexion, how it protected her from that kind of vulnerability.

"Thank you." She breathed, looking up from her nearly empty glass. "For that, you, I should've just talked to you. I shouldn't have been so mean."

“Stop it." He refilled her glass. He followed her movements as she sipped the sharp whiskey. Her lips were shiny once she pulled it back.

She shifted under his stare. Attempting to match him by watching him back. It only made the room grow warmer. She was pulsating now. Liquor had always spelled danger for her.

Thankfully he lost their unspoken competition.

"I actually forgot, one sec.” He released a deep breath, bending down to grab something out of his bag. A manila envelope.

She eyed it curiously, intrigued by what he had up his sleeve. He ran a finger over his right brow before extending it towards her.

“Here”

She took the envelope and slowly opened it. It was a contract. A contract for The Bear. Establishing her as a co-owner along with Carmy. 

“You okay?” His soft voice broke her from her daze. He ducked his head catching her watery eyes.

She blinked realizing that tears were welling in her eyes. She wiped them quickly in embarrassment.

”Fuck sorry.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what to say.”

"No, it's not, you don’t have to say anything right now." He assured. "The Bear is as much mine as it is yours. This isn’t me trying to make you stay in Chicago. I’d never do that to you, I know you want to do more than work in that shithole” he mocked. “But it’s, it's ours isn't it?  I want you to know you’ll always have a home.”

She kicked herself for letting more tears pass her lids. They were quickly wiped away as well. She shook her head skimming over it and seeing the signature line at the bottom. All she had to do was sign.

“Jesus, Carmy would’ve been easier if you asked me to marry you.” She laughs eyes still on the paper reading the header over and over again. She could own something. Something that wasn't destined to fail.

He hummed thoughtfully, “You’re right, it would be easier if I asked you to marry me.”

They let the thought linger. She gently placed the papers back on the envelop.

"Thanks again, for-for telling me about the uh dinner thing. I know we weren’t together so of really wasn't any of my business-“

"Together or not, don’t want you thinking I don’t care about your feelings.“ His words hit her deeply. How careful he always was especially with her. She pulled him into a hug, relaxing as she held onto him.

His hair smelled freshly washed and he was wearing some fancy cologne. Leaning back she took him in, more carefully this time.

”What’s got you all dressed up?” She raised an eyebrow.

He looked down at himself then back at her, “Didn’t want to ask you to be my business partner in a dingy white-tee.”

"You could’ve.“ She laughed. “But you look really nice. I like your cologne...“

"It’s the one I hate.“ He noted “Nat said I should wear it.”

"She knows you came?”

”She drew up our contract” He explained “She wants no legal obligation to that place by the end of the year.”

"Better me than her I guess." Her reply was absentminded as she trailed Carmy's body. How could someone who ate like a frat boy maintain a body like his.

"What?” He looked down self consciously.

"Have you been working out?” She always knew him to be fit but she swears his biceps were bigger than they were the last time she saw him. 

"Yeah, been hitting the gym hard since you left.” He shrugged. “Helps with stress”

”I’m sure it does.” She rips her eyes away from his arms to pour herself a heftier drink. “You look great.” The compliment slipped out of her. "You know what else helps with stress?"

Shut up Syd. SHUT UP.

"No, what is that?"

His arms rested on the counter, outstretched past her. She swayed brushing against it, stumbling back onto the bar stool behind her.

He didn't know if he wanted to look at her drawing eyes or kissable lips. His eyes darted between both as he leaned closer to her, wanting to know the secret she kept.

She should've stopped drinking one glass ago, now her filter was withering away and her sober mind was locked behind a cage guarded by her horny intoxicated mind.

Sydney's alarm made the both of them jump away from each other.

With this distraction, her sense came rushing back. They shouldn't have sex.

Not now.

She had work in the morning and everything was still so fresh. Plus she was feeling like a fucking doofus around him and she didn't know why.

Her reasoning sounded like B.S. in this moment but somewhere in her head it made sense.

"I'm- that's my alarm for bed." She chuckled, as she slid off the bar stool, temporarily swaying a bit too close to him. He followed her as she moved away, so close to kissing her but he decided against it at the last minute. "Just gonna go get ready for bed." With that she left.

Carmy watched her disappear behind her bathroom door and waited until the shower cut on to breath. He pressed his hand against the seam of his jeans, willing his hard on away.

Steam billowed out before her once she left the bathroom and padded over to her bedroom. He was looking over the Polaroids that hung above her dresser. Each memory she cherished. 

"Shit sorry." He turned around like he'd been caught red handed. "Didn't mean to intrude."

"No it's, you're fine." She pulled her towel, that she realized was entirely too short, closer. The fluffy white fabric stopped just below the curve of her ass.

He watched as a bead of water trailed over her collarbone and under the towel. She sat on her bed, fingers still tightly holding the towel around her.

"You, uh did you see the pic there at the top?"

Carmy heard her but he didn't have the capacity to respond. He was suddenly so thirsty. He missed how she tasted. He turned back around to find the photo she referred to.

Shifting, her thighs granted her temporary relief. Blood thudded inside of her.

"Holy shit is that?" He squinted his eyes trying to get a closer look at the photo. "It can't be we hadn't even met at that point." The restaurants name etched on a menu beside the dish confirmed his suspicions.

He prepared this dish during a time of devaluation and grief. He was alone and felt like he'd lost touch with his family. When really Mikey was just avoiding him. He was told it was never good enough. He was a fuck up who didn't know the first thing about cooking. He swore he'd never made it again - too many bad memories. Funny how even at the lowest point in his life, she seemed to find some good in him.

"Remember I told you I tried your cooking well before I met you."

"Yeah I remember I just," he glanced back at her, eyes dropping to her enticing thighs before darting back to the photo on the wall. "I-I didn't know you had a picture of it!" He chuckled. "Do you photograph all the food you eat?" He quirked an eyebrow, turning back to her. "Or was I special?"

He just wanted to hear her say it. He'd never ask her for anything else if she just called him special.

With each step forward an inferno blazed within her, it'd be impossible to look away now that he was so close.

She imagined this was how it felt after staring at the sun for too long. Hypnotized by its beauty. Blinded by it's ferocity. Appreciative of its life. She understood now why people worshiped the blazing ball in the sky.

He stood above her, overbearing almost. She looked up at him, trying not to shiver at his attention. She failed.

"You were special." Her voice was small. She feared speaking louder would give her away.

"Thought I was special, did you." He grinned knocking their knees together.

His mind wouldn't stop racing. He resisted his urges long enough, seeing that on her wall like it was art stirred something within him. She was always there seeing him for who he was and not who everybody wanted him to be. The depth of his feelings for her broke new ground, growing treacherous. He'd be terrified if he didn't trust her with his heart, his life. 

"I did." She replied, voice still hidden under her embarrassing desire.

"You're special too." He nudged her legs apart, moving closer. Still above her. Still staring down at her as if this were the most casual thing in the world. Beneath his depth he was anything but.

She wondered if he'd still respect her if she got on her knees right now.

If she begged for it. If she came by simply rubbing her body on his.

"You know that right?" The back of his hand grazed her cheeks. He could feel the warmth. She couldn't hide now.

She nodded, hypnotized by him, afraid to speak, fearing a feral moan would rang out.

"Can you say it for me?" He waited a second, hand now gently gripping the dip of her neck. "Say 'I'm special'."

"I-I'm special." She replied breathlessly. His eyes grew darker as he watched her squirm. She was dizzy now with desire. Seconds from dropping her towel and jumping his bones.

His hand that wasn't on her neck met her bottom lip, gently pulling it down. "Can I try something?" He left her mouth open, waiting for her reply.

She closed her mouth, gulping down the saliva that pooled there. She nodded and he smiled.

"Use your words."

She gulped down more saliva before speaking again

"Yes."

He gently tugged on her towel tossing it to the floor. She watched the tips of his ears turn red. Being fully clothed while she was on display like this was mind-boggling.

He opened his mouth to speak but his words were stuck in his throat. His stomach did back flips. He still didn't know how he landed someone so, "Beautiful." It was a whisper but she heard it.

He brought his fingers back up to her mouth but this time he gently shoved two fingers in her mouth. He stroked her tongue, being careful not to trigger her gag reflex.

Moaning drifted past her ears. She met his eyes, realizing it was her making those noises. She didn't know why but his fingers in her mouth pulled her closer and closer to the edge.

"Back up for me." He left his fingers against her tongue as she carefully backed further onto the bed. His knee nestled between her thighs as she settled on her back. "Gonna get you off, okay? Apologize for popping up like this."

She wanted to tell him there was no need to apologize but between her slowly slipping mind and his fingers against her tongue she simply nodded.

In an instant they were gone out of her mouth and circling her bud. She was so wound up, the first touch sent electricity through her. She trembled, frantically trying to control herself.

"Fuck Syd, didn't even need to do that." His fingers slipped easily into her. "You're so wet. So ready for me."

She nodded desperately, moving her hips, chasing an already building orgasm.

"So pretty. So pretty." He worried his bottom lip, watching her. What made her jerk, what made her moan, what made her eyes roll. "You're gonna make me cum in my pants." He huffs. "If you keep looking like that."

She clawed at his top, hands sliding up from under. She moaned his name, how could she be expected to form a clear sentence in that moment.

"Want me undressed too?" His soaked fingers rubbed her, applying just enough pressure. She feverishly nodded.

"Please." She managed to get something other than his name out of her mouth.

His touch was gone - she resisted the urge to throw a tantrum. She wanted him undressed after all. 

His chiseled body descended back on her. He immediately latched onto her neck. But he wasn't touching her like she wanted. Not like he was just seconds ago.

He soon noticed her vitriol and the fucker smiled.

"Relax," he continued kissing down her neck all the way down to her perky nipples. "I'll get you there, just missed this so much."

With each kiss he neared the place between her thighs.

Her mouth fell open once he latched onto her. Fingers slipping back into her.

With each come hither movement and each kiss worshiping her clit she moved closer and closer to the edge.

His tongue dancing in a firm circle pulling an orgasm out of her.

The feeling surprised her. This was different than all the other times. Her chest pounded and her thighs trembled. She gripped his curls and was pretty sure it made that fucker moan. She could feel the vibrations.

She loved him.

IloveyouIloveyouIloveyoufuckIloveyou

No one knew her like him. No one could do this to her but him. She didn't want anybody else to do this to her. With her.

He gently licked her, tongue slowly cleaning up her mess. He climbed up her body, nuzzling her neck.

"I love you too Syd."

Had she said that out loud?

He watched her come back to Earth, eyes low and hazy. He waited until she looked at him, clearly, to kiss her. She moaned when she tasted herself.

"You taste so good don't you?" He kissed her jaw. "Are you ready?"

She pulled him closer, far too weak and aroused to say anything.

He squeezed the base of his dick. He didn’t want to cum too fast, he wanted to relish in this. Savor it.

He exhaled as he pushed into her. He fit her so well. So easily. That stupid part of his brain preened at that. She was his.

He stilled once he bottomed out.

She was impatient. Feeling his throbbing head against that spot inside of her made her instinctively salivate. She canted her hips up, encouraging some sort of movement.

"Shit, you're" He buried his face in her neck as he began moving. Brutally. Slowly. As deep as he could get.

Her legs wrapped around him keeping him close. Needing him close. With each pound against her button she spiraled further and further into his spell. She felt drunk. In love. Dangerously so.

He groaned at her teeth digging into his shoulder, another orgasm echoed through her.

"Feel so good when you cum on my dick like that." He gripped the sheets, moving faster, more intentional - chasing his release. Her fitted sheets popped off of the corners of her mattress, rolling up under them.

She gripped the back of his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. She moaned in his mouth and he swallowed it.

He was so close, losing his grip on reality. On sanity. He wanted to cum inside of her. "Wanna get you pregnant." His eyes were closed, he didn't see her reaction but she clenched around him. Her legs and arms pulled him closer like a Venus flytrap devouring its prey.

"Please" she gasped gripping him tighter. "I want it."

A noise he hadn't recognized as his voice left him, muffled against her neck. He pumped inside of her, once, twice, three times so deeply he was sure they'd have a pregnancy scare. He couldn't bring himself to care though.

After cleaning up and fixing the bed he rocked her in his arms.

"We should get a Plan B." He mentioned kissing her forehead. “Or not.”

"I have an IUD." She reminded him.

He tried to hide his disappointment.

"Aw come on ya big sap, give me a kiss."

He happily obliged.

Sydney was back home and she and Carmy's relationship was on the up and up. They were working on it and things seemed to be progressing exponentially.

"Remember when I said it'd be easier for you to just ask me to marry you?"

"I do." He looked up from the document he'd been filling out. Syd long ago tried to bring Carmy into the digital age, but he was stuck in his ways. It was endearing. "What about it?"

"Is that," she hesitates, hovering over uncharted waters. "Is marriage something you ever think about?" She sat on his desk swinging her feet, too nervous to sit still or stand like a normal person. "Not with me I mean with anybody ever."

He sat his pen down, she now had his full attention. "You're the only person I ever thought about marrying." He replied openly, his hand sliding up her thigh. When he reached her belly his fingers twisted in the softness of her shirt causing her to stir and swat his hand away with a smile. 

Now he was standing before her, between her legs, caging her in with his arms. Reminiscent of their first kiss. "And maybe even some day," he breathed into her neck, planting a wet kiss there once she leaned into him. "You can take that stupid IUD out and let me put a baby in you."

Her eyes fell closed, thinking about what it'd be like to do that. She pulled back cradling his head between her hands, stars brightening her eyes.

"Let’s focus on raising this baby first before we think about any others. Imagine how fucked up it would be." She tilted her had slightly in an attempt to be snarky or maybe sarcastic, anything to alleviate the seriousness of the moment.

"Who says we can't do both?" He replied half joking half hopeful. There goes his hands again, warming her sensitive belly. "We can try before the meeting starts." He mouthed at her neck and gripped her waist, now determined to make his dreams a reality.

She chuckled "Carmen." She gently nudged him back. "Do you know what you're saying? Do you know my dad would kill you- me- no US if we got pregnant?"

"Sydney, you know you're an adult right?" He shot her a teasing grin. "Also, I'm not saying right now or any time soon. I was joking." He placated. But they both knew he wasn't really joking all that much. "It's nice to know you're open to that sorta thing."

Syd nodded still trying to calm herself down. "I think you'd make a great dad." She replied earnestly.

She admired the pink that spread across his cheeks.

Richie knocked on the door before walking in, not waiting for a response.

"Yo, cousin when you and the wife are done with your meeting the actual team meeting has started out front."

"Shut the fuck up Richie!" He replied, no real heat behind his words. "And who started the meeting?"

"Who else?" He glanced around the room with a scoff "I did, when you two fly off to la la land I pick up the slack."

"What do you teach them? The quickest way to fuck up lunch?" Sydney fired back.

"Hey that was once!" He shouted behind him, already making his way back to the meeting.

Syd followed behind him but Carmy's hand stopped her. She spun around and he pulled her against him, kissing her breathless. He rested his forehead against hers.

"You'd really marry a fuck up like me?" He glanced behind her making sure Richie was gone.

"Carmy." She sighed leaning forward and pecking him once. "What did your therapist say about self-talk?"

"Right" He nodded. "Sorry, I'm still learning."

"Don't apologize." She kissed him again, lingering longer than before. "I wouldn't want to spend my life with anybody else."

"See! I told you they're back here making out" Richie's voice drifted through the kitchen catching their attention. The rest of the staff followed behind laughing amongst themselves.

"Chefs, are you going to show them tonight's specials or do I have to?"

best dad award goes to brody king

Headcanon: Rupert changed his handwriting to make it easier for Taggie to read