Chapter Text
This part, really, was the only uncomplicated thing about them.
They’re in the kitchen. He’s on pasta (like always) and she’s on sauce (like always). The air smells like basil and Carmy, and a hint of her. Ever since he’s moved into this bigger apartment and slipped a key into her hand as an unsubtle suggestion, she’s started making her mark. She has a toothbrush and two drawers. He’d bought her a shower cap, big enough to fit all of her braids, that had the Ratatouille characters scattered across it. She hasn’t made the plunge yet, too afraid to leave her dad by himself, but she’s acclimating to the idea quicker than she’d thought she would.
“You should let me do pasta one day.” She says, eyebrows raised and lips pursed. He laughs quickly and tries to cover it with a cough.
“Yeah, maybe.”
“You’re such a pretentious Italian asshole.” She quips with no heat.
“Yeah, maybe.” He smiles at her like a child, teeth showing and cheeks pinked.
It’s the smile that she knows means he’s about to get clingy. It was the most surprising thing about him to her- he was so stoic otherwise. But, when it came to touch it was like he starved for it, searching for her skin at any opportunity. She turns the heat down on her sauce and wraps her arms around his shoulders.
He does the same, arms squeezing her waist and nose buried into her neck. She doesn’t want to ruin the moment but her brain, as always, runs a mile a minute. She’s thinking of The Bear, of stars and awards - Should we put more pasta on the menu? Is that what’s missing?
He’s thinking of her. It’s always been like this. But he runs his fingers down her spine and, like a switch, she’s thinking of him too.
“You know you’re not as subtle as you think you are,” she says, shivering from proximity to him.
“Oh?”
“Oh, yeah. Ply me with pasta, dim the lights - you’re angling for sex.”
“Well, yeah I’m always doing that.” She cackles, kissing him quickly. He chases after her lips when she pulls away and she ducks out of his arms, turning back to her sauce. She gives it a stir.
When she looks up, he’s staring (like always.)
“What? You’re doing that blue-eyed demon thing again-“
“Marry me.”
30 is too early to have a heart attack, right? Surely it must be.
She lets out a breath. “Carmen.”
“Ohhh. Full naming me, that’s-”
“Carm, be forreal.”
“Marry me.” He repeats, serious and fond. He advances on her, ready to wrap himself around her again.
“We- I thought you wanted to wait? For the star?” His biceps flex as his hands return to her waist, squeezes her to him, his back to her front
“Baby, you said we should wait for the star and I said ‘yeah whatever you want’. But the star- fuck the star, Syd. I feel like I’m waiting for someone else to decide when the rest of my life gets to start.” He breathes her in, surrounding her warmly.
“Carmy-“
“We don’t need to plan anything - I’ll call Nat and she can get the crew together and we’ll go to the courthouse tomorrow.”
“You’re crazy-”
“I’m sure of you.”
And it’s like her heart re-starts. Like it had been waiting for him to give it permission.
She turns around, still wrapped in him, and stares into his eyes. He’s serious.
She’s so in love with him. Sometimes, if she thinks about it too much, her chest constricts and her stomach starts to hurt. It feels insane, to walk around knowing how many pieces of your soul you’ve given to another person. And it feels even more insane to pretend that he doesn’t- to pretend that Michelin really has any say in what their love looks like or how it progresses.
“Baby, I’m sure of you,” he says again, eyes fixated on her, “are you sure of me?”
She kisses him and laughs and cries a little bit. He will tell their children, decades into the future, that she fell to the floor and sobbed (because he’s an asshole). And she will tell them that he begged, for hours, for her to marry him (because she’s also an asshole). And she thinks of this future that she can’t quite see, but feels settle into her chest, as she says:
“Yes.”
Yes. This is forever. She’s sure of it.
.
.
.
Forever, as it turns out, is 8 years, 7 months, 276 days, 21 hours, and 43 seconds.