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miwsolovely · 1 month

Text

—THE PAINTER

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader x luca davies-bernardi

series masterlist taglist next

summary: beautiful chaos.

contains: implications + mentions of abuse, ptsd, panic attack, pov changing, reader is sick and tired of everything but carmy makes her think

wc: 4.6k

a/n: im thinking of making this an au where luca and carmy are both the owners of The Beef (this takes place roughly before carmy turns The Beef into The Bear, but mc will be there to see it happen in this series)

a/n 2: i was listening to second best by laufey while writing this :((

a/n 3: posted on a whim so this is unedited bear w me

You could almost feel the cold waves embracing you.

Could almost taste the salt, feel the sting of saltiness in your eyes only to feel the droplets wash away on your face.

You felt as if you were flying. floating in air with your only worry being how you could get down. If you could get down. If you could get out of this feeling. This loneliness.

You would’ve stayed too. Suspended in the cold sea with only the feeling of the waves hitting your body, the sound of the waves hugging the shore, the wind singing in your ears.

You had no choice but to stay. Because even if you fell, there was no moon to pull the waves away from crashing against you. To pull you down underneath the water until your fingers barely grazed the surface.

So you stayed.

And your alarm woke you up.

You opened your eyes with a sigh, cringing at the feel of the cold nipping at your skin and the stabbing pain all over your body.

An old band t-shirt and shorts. The unforgiving chicago winter turning your fingers into ice, dark blue blooming underneath your nail beds.

You cringed as you tried to sit up, freezing fingers feeling at semi-aged splotches of blue and yellow and purple around your tired body.

It was beautiful. To a painter at least. To you in your own sick way. To find beauty in something so horrible. So inhumane.

They were the aftermath of a bad day gone horribly wrong. His day that went wrong. Because of this horrible day you knew you’d never forget, you ran, again.

Even though you knew what would happen to you if you were found. Even though you knew you would be found. You always were. Now you just take to taking extra, extra precautions and looking over your shoulder every five seconds, making sure your back is never turned facing an exit, memorizing every face that looks like his. You ran this time. You’re not going back.

You expected the cold wood floor to greet your feet as you stood. However you were met with plush.

You looked down and noticed the duvet that once protected your body from the cold of the night, was now on the floor seemingly thrown off of you.

He was here. Watching you sleep, watching you when you were the most vulnerable. Watching you like a predator stalking its prey, jowls out and salivating waiting to pounce.

You stared at it as you eyes welled up, flooded, and like rain your tears poured on the duvet. Unforgiving just like this winter. Just like him.

You sniffed and dug the heels of your palms on your eyelids, took deep breaths, in the nose out the mouth, and blinked your red rimmed eyes back into focus. You took another deep breath, and let it go.

You wiped your tears with the back of your hand and stood up, limping your way to your bathroom, ignoring the burning pain of your heart in its hard, iron cage.

***

Carmen could almost feel the fire at his fingertips.

He could almost taste the smoke, feel the sting in his eyes as they blurred and filled with tears threatening to spill from his crystal eyes.

He felt as if he were drowning, fingertips just barely grazing the surface of the water before he was pulled down again into the deep depths of the unknown. His mind.

He would’ve stayed there. Would’ve stayed and let the waves forcefully shove him under, let the burn of water rushing into his lungs engulf him. However, when taunted by the moon even the waves bow.

He didn’t like to admit it often (ever), but when he was surrounded by the people he loved, the people who cared for and about him, Carmen felt happier, lighter.

And his other half—oh, his other half looked at him and talked to him and cared for him and loved him even before he touched his skin.

Luca is his everything.

He wouldn’t know where he would be without him in all honesty. If anything happened to him he would—

His alarm woke him up.

He twitched and felt his lover’s body curl around him more. Legs tangled together and skin touching skin.

He cleared his throat and tried to clear the fog in his mind as well.

Luca shifted from his position behind Camren, tightening his arms around his waist ever so gently.

Carmen sighs and pats the arms bound around him gently. “C’mon big guy,” He said. “Every second counts, yeah?”

He earned a grunt in response.

***

They really need to hire more people.

Today was hectic to say the least. Angry customers, slow customers, customers that forgot their order and took to staring at his arms.

Customers that didn’t even look at the tip jar.

He didn’t know how Richie did it. Stared at customers with a fake smile who stared back without the smile.

Richie was home, taking care of his daughter Eva after she came down with a bad stomach bug. He was begging, almost get-down-on-your-knees begging, just for a week off.

“Carmy, Carmen please, just the week okay? I won’t—I swear to Saint fucking Joe himself, just the week and I won’t ask for anything else—”

“Cousin, cousin, it’s okay. Take all the time you need alright?”

He was ready to go outside, in the middle of the street, and scream until his own ears bled. Or, if push comes to shove, he could put up a “Help Wanted” sign.

Carmen closed his eyes and let out a deep breath from his nose and rubbed at the back of his neck, trying to soothe the sore muscles that took refuge there.

“Short-staffed?”

Carmen opened his eyes and immediately, he met the gaze of the woman in front of him.

She was wearing a turtleneck colored a dark chestnut. Suited her well, he thought. She had wide leg jeans from what he could see over the counter and—

And he’d been staring.

“Uh—” He let out an airy chuckle. “Yeah, how’d you . . .” He slowly removed his hand from his neck and placed it on the counter, warm palm meeting the cold surface of the counter. Trying to wake him up from this dream.

“Saw you and the other worker here runnin’ around like headless chickens.” She smiled. A pretty thing it is. “Thought you guys were short staffed.” She confessed.

Carmen smiled. A genuine one too. Smiled a smile that was meant for someone other than Luca.

“Well uhm—unless you’re out of a job and know where the tip jar is, you’re uh—you’re in luck.”

Carmy saw her eyes light up. He didn’t know, but that was the first time she smiled that much in a while.

***

You had seen him before.

You don’t know where, but his face was so familiar.

Yes, some people have “that face” where they look familiar just because the structure of their face looks like somebody else’s they know. However, there was nothing else like the way his eyes shined, or the way his nose was crooked probably broken a few times. Or the way he looked, the way he talked, the way he was looking at you right now.

Maybe you were too friendly? You wouldn’t know anyways, being deprived of human and social interactions for a long time, the years you were with him, turning easy things such as holding a conversation or starting one, tiring and making them out of your comfort zone.

A part of you, a tiny part of you barely even recognized, started conversation with him because you thought he was nice.

Not nice actually, kind. You could see he was kind because of the way he held the door for an elderly couple when he was on break, jogging over to the door and sharing smiles with them. You knew it in the way he offered to make sweets for a customers child’s birthday party after they expressed how they can’t find someone willing to do it. You could see it in the way he brang you your order with a tiny, shy, but genuine smile on his face.

Now the other part of you, the large, overwhelmingly scared part of you did it so that he’d remember you. Remember your face when he would see it on a missing persons poster, remember you so that if it came to it, when it came to it, he’d tell the police he saw you at The Beef on Thursday, May 18th at 3:47 pm on a sunny, yet cold day.

You let out a breath and peered at your sandwich, wrapped to go logo reading “The Beef” in bolded red letters.

Should you leave? It’d be weird to stay considering you ordered your sandwich to go.

You’re just taking up space.

Maybe you should leave. You’re not waiting for anyone, and no one is waiting for you.

You sighed and a man walked by where you were sat. Towards him, the kind man, the man with the mystifyingly beautiful tattoos, him.

You thought nothing of it, why would you have? it was all normal.

Until you saw his hair, the shape of his nose, his build.

Blond with defined muscles that seemed to almost rip the shirt he was wearing to threads. His large hands waving at the kind man at the counter, large hands that look eerily similar to his. Nose crooked like his, blond hair cut similar to his.

Him, him, him.

Your heart was pounding, beating like a drum, a bad storm with thunder that scares, imagining your tears melting on your face like how the rain would feel on your skin whenever he'd throw you outside in a bad storm to treat you a lesson. Unforgiving. Him, him, him.

You thought it was a mistake. That it really wasn't him, you were just seeing things. That's what you usually do in situations like these; you deny, deny, deny. Not everything is true in the true light of day.

But in the wispy shadows of night it's ironic how most everything comes to life. Everything you think to be wrong jump and pounce on you when you least expect it. When you're cleaning, cooking, doing chores, sleeping.

The ring on his index finger glinted and burned your eyes. Him. It’s him.

You remember, in the early stages of your relationship, when your eyes were being deceived by his sweet words and caramel eyes, when everything was good, his ring was always warm to the touch.

Either it was because he ran like a furnace in the coldest of nights, or the fact that he always had to be holding you. You, you, you.

But after, after the world around you burnt and his words were sharp and mean, his eyes turning dark like burnt, black sugar, the ring on his finger turned cold to the touch. So cold that it hurt. Whenever he would hold your face, force you to look at him, it hurt. His ring was always a reminder that no, you weren't safe, you never will be, and yes, you were in this forever.

"The only way," He'd say, whenever you got angry, whenever you'd try to run, whenever his anger simmered down just a tiny bit after delivering your punishment. "you'd be able to get away from me, is if someone drags you out of my cold, dead, fucking hands." And his ring was there, burning into your skin no matter how cold it was.

The creak of the chair in front of you shook you to your core.

"Hey, um, I thought you were really pretty and wanted to come over here and ask if you wanted to go on a date with me?”

Your head shot up. So fast it left your head spinning. your hands were shaking.

It wasn't him.

Whoever was above seemed to have favorites. Rewarding others but leaving you to suffer. Deceiving your eyes and making you see a burnt brown instead of a green so rich it came straight from mother nature herself, rewiring your brain so you would mistake brown for blond. Making you imagine things that weren't there. The ring on his finger was nonexistent. Nothing was there, you were wrong.

You were wrong and that left your heart beating fast, too fast, left you muttering a broken promise to the man, the innocent man, and walking away, running away, from all your problems, from him.

Him, him, him.

You don't know how, but after your burning muscles couldn't take you anywhere else, your tear stained cheeks getting wet over and over again no matter how much you wipe your face with your rough sleeve, you were outside, in an alley, breathing heavily. Your sandwich left inside the restaurant to get cold.

You held your chest with your hand, where your heart was, trying to calm it, trying to breathe. You just want to go home, you just want to go home. Home to empty, cold walls and broken AC, home to—

"You alright, love?"

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©miwsolovely

#✿﹒the bear masterlist—📁﹒ ✧#౨ৎredamancy #creds to the maker of luca’s last name !!!#carmen x reader x luca #carmy x reader x luca #carmen berzatto x reader #luca the bear #luca the bear x reader #the bear #the bear fx #carmy berzatto #carmy x reader #carmy the bear

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