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loveforcarmen · 8 months ago

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𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 - CH. 7

- carmen berzatto x fem!oc coworker | - slowburn

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

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

single - the neighbourhood

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

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

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

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

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

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

Knock. Knock.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The establishment was intimidatingly high end to say the least.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But was it truly uncomfortableness he was feeling?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'll be on the couch."

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

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

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

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

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

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

END

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

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