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

reflections

A/N: wasn't originally going to post this one either because it has very minimal difference to a handful of other one shots ive written (especially the last one) but oh well shskdjdk. also just want to state that any baby fic i write IS set in canon unless stated otherwise, so this takes place almost ten years after the shorts. and on that note, i know i've promised some reunion/fix it fic and they are coming trust me i'm just putting it off out of fear of not getting it right 😭 but i have started one and i'll try to make sure it's what i have posted next. it'll be it's own separate multichapter on ao3, but for you wattpad readers i'll just post it in three parts (which is what i've planned so far, it might change) in this collection. thank you all for reading and commenting <3

description: pregnant!carla getting sick at samuel's birthday party so trigger warning for vague descriptions of vomiting

rating: gen

//

Fingers pressed tightly over her mouth, Carla stumbles into the bar's dimly lit bathroom. She doesn't double-check whether anyone else is in here with her before shoving open the nearest stall, falling to her knees, and promptly emptying the contents of her stomach into the porcelain bowl in front of her.

She isn't even sure what triggered her nausea; she had been perfectly fine thirty seconds ago. Maybe it was the pieces of Samuel's birthday cake being handed out, or the scent of the champagne she didn't drink to accompany it? A combination of both? Whatever it was, she finds herself mentally cursing it right this moment. She supposes she should just be thankful that no one had seen her slip away from the party in a rush and followed her in here, because then they'd undoubtedly have questions.

And it's just her fucking luck when she feels a hand on the middle of her back and another gently sweeping her hair out of her face a second after that thought crosses her mind. Instantly, she stiffens as she glances up and finds Pilar kneeling down beside her, but she can't do much else besides going right back to getting sick. The older woman murmurs lowly, rubbing soothing circles between Carla's heaving shoulder blades as she patiently waits for her to finish.

She does, eventually, slumping back tiredly and feeling tears clotting at the corners of her eyes, in her lash line. Pilar rips off some toilet paper and dabs around Carla's mouth for her, but she can't bring herself to meet the woman's gaze. For some reason, she feels shameful. Embarrassed.

But the smile Pilar gives her is kind and without judgement before she asks, "Are you feeling better now?"

"Yes," Carla rasps, swallowing past the dryness on her tongue. "Thank you."

"Of course, honey," Pilar returns sympathetically. "Do you want to stand up?"

Carla manages a weak nod, but doesn't immediately move; the other woman seems to understand that she just needs to take her time, because she doesn't push or rush her. Once the small wave of nausea that has washed back over Carla resides again, Pilar helps her up to her feet. She keeps her arms around Carla as they walk to the row of sinks built into the far wall, only letting go so that the blonde can bend over and rinse her mouth out with some water. She splashes some on her face too, less for the relief and more to put off having to address the elephant in the room. Carla can feel her brown eyes watching her, waiting.

She normally finds Pilar and Samuel's common—if not few—similarities endearing, but right now, the eyes unnerve her. They look too much like his own.

And then there's another thing that the two of them share: getting right down to the point.

"So," the older woman begins conversationally, as she hands over a paper towel for Carla to dry her face with. "Want to tell me what that was all about?"