take it how you want it (take on my love) // carmuel one-shots

cosmic love

A/N: merry christmas if you celebrate it! if you don't, i hope you're having a great day :)

description: post-series christmas reunion fic

rating: mature

//

It's ten thirty-nine on a Thursday night, four days before Christmas, and the last person Carla expects to see in the entire world is him.

"Never thought I'd ever find a marchioness in a place like this."

The voice does not belong to Samuel. No, if Samuel were the one who walks up to her in this somewhat shitty bar in Downtown L.A., it would be earth-shattering, time-stopping, heart-racing... but not necessarily surprising. She and Samuel always had that sort of serendipitous thing between them—spending a whole semester of school barely paying any attention to one another, skimming the outskirts of each other's orbits like asteroids in outer space, only to crash together in an explosion that could rival the one that wiped out the dinosaurs.

At least, that's what Carla tells herself after all this time. Even six years later she's still thinking about him, seeing him in everything, despite the fact that she hasn't actually seen him since she left Madrid. She's staring at the whiskey resting on the coaster in front of her and comparing the woodsy color to his eyes when that voice prompts her to look up, head swiveling where her chin is propped in her hand, and immediately, her own eyes widen.

Because the last person she expects to see in the entire world is not Samuel, but his brother, and that's exactly who is standing just a mere foot away from the corner high-table she's sitting at right now.

"Do you mind if I sit?" Nano asks her.

There's a smile on his lips; a small thing, one side of his mouth pressed together, the other curled up slightly, but still, she doesn't know what to make of it. What are his intentions? The last time they saw each other, he'd put his hands on her, more or less threatened to kill her, and then she watched as Samuel nearly killed him to protect her.

She wonders if Nano's here to finish the job. It's been over half a decade, but the Nano García she remembers holds grudges. Not that she can or would blame him for holding one against her, though it also isn't like she actively wants to be the victim of a revenge crime now, or ever.

There's already a beer in his hand. That, for some reason, eases some of the tension in Carla's shoulders. But only a little; only enough for her to give him a stiff, single shake of her head.

He slips onto the stool across from her, stares pensively at his sweating beer bottle, and then looks around as if he's taking the place in. His eyes eventually land on her own drink, and he nods his head at it.

"I would've figured you for a wine girl. You know, because..."

He trails off, probably realizing that the two of them making small talk in a low-dive bar in Los Angeles is absolutely fucking ridiculous. Or, perhaps, he just sees the way Carla's hand tightens around the glass tumbler in anticipation of whatever the hell is happening, because he sighs a little through his nose, and fixes his eyes on her.

They're blue, like the polluted water of the ocean just a mere ten minute walk away from her home, not woodsy, whiskey, Samuel brown. She never thought she'd ever feel so relieved about the fact that he and Nano, despite being fully related, almost look nothing alike.

"Listen, mar—Carla," he ditches that old, condescending nickname at the last second. It only serves to confuse her further. If he was actually here to confront her, it would make sense; it would be a long time coming. But, "I'm not here to start anything with you, okay?"