#EDIT; CANT BELIEVE I WROTE NEIGH INSTEAD OF NIGH IM GONNA EXPLODE

[carmyboobear]

You & Carm on the couch late one night and he’s rambling on and on about the restaurant (poor guy doesn’t know when to just be quiet😂) and he looks over and you’re dead asleep so he carries you to bed 😭 I love him with my whole heart honestly

(ANGUISHED SCREAM) THAT IS SO SWEET…I love the idea of him rambling to you, too, because that’s how you know he REALLY trusts you… he doesn’t open to just anyone!!

It’s a late night. Carmy had plopped down on the couch next to you after a long, long day at The Beef. You’re cuddled into his side, head comfortably nestled into the crook of his neck. He’s got his arm around you, holding you close.

“Rough day?” You had asked, curious about the tension and weight in his face and shoulders. That’s all it took for him to start talking.

It used to be like wrenching open a stubborn can, congealed shut with old glue. It was nigh impossible to get him to talk about how he was feeling. His emotions would build up to a point where he would explode, so stressed that he would be unable to repress it anymore. It wasn’t pretty, and neither of you liked it.

After lots of practice, the words finally come easy for Carmy. Or, well, they come easier.

“It was a shit-show,” he says plainly, tiredly. He starts off quiet and lethargic, but the more he talks up, the more amped up he gets. “The thing is, I’m not tryin’ to fuck with the system, because there is no system to begin with. They act like what they had was a system, but it wasn’t. It was a jumble of loosely enforced rules with no clear distinctions. Not the same thing.

“And bookkeeping,” he groans, because there’s always something with the papers, the documents. “There’s more shit that I’ve never seen until now. I shouldn’t still be discovering things like this. It’s endless, baby. It’s fucked.” He tells you about how he’s catering for another party of Uncle Jimmy’s next week. About how the meat order won’t stop coming in wrong.

He’s halfway through talking about this obnoxious customer when he realizes you haven’t said anything a while. When he turns to look at you, you’re fast asleep on his shoulder.

“Hey,” he whispers, to see if you’re awake. No response.

He sits there for a moment, wondering how long you’ve been asleep for. Affection swells in his heart at the thought of you wanting to listen to him even on the verge of falling asleep. It’s too sweet.

He lets himself stare at your sleeping face for a moment longer. Then, he moves to pick you up, one hand at your back to lean you against his chest, the other under your knees. He hoists you up. Still nothing from you. He presses a kiss to your forehead, and then another one as he carries you to bed.