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

cayendo

A/N: hello everyone! i'm gonna be up front on the fact that i have absolutely no idea how to work this app (i'm an ao3 reader/writer, personally - you can find me there @ shawsameen) but i figured i would post my previous works here anyway for the carmuel fans who exclusively use wattpad. i think i may only post this fic for now because it fits wattpad's layout better, but you're always more than welcome to check out my other works too! also side note because i've noticed a lot of the works here are in first pov: i only write in third, so apologies if you don't like reading it :) lastly, this one is set in some nebulous s2 au where no one died/murdered/is covering up a murder, but carla and samuel are still doing their secret non-relationship thing

description: jealous!carla

rating: teen

//

There are times where Carla finds Samuel's obliviousness cute.

For example, when he's sketching and forgets that his hands are covered in charcoal, so when she suddenly lets out a snort from her place on his bed he looks up in confusion, unaware of the black finger smudges all over his face. Or when he starts to daydream in class, tuning their teacher out and gaze drifting to the window as Carla's does the same to him, silently appreciating the sharp lines of his profile before smiling to herself because it takes Nadia smacking him on the arm to get him to pay attention again. Or when they've spent the afternoon studying and Carla wants to move onto things that involve more lips and heavy petting and are generally much more fun than taking notes or reading flash cards (something he'd have to do less of if he didn't space out in the middle of lectures), and he's got his nose stuck so deep into their chemistry textbook that he doesn't pick up on any of the hints she's dropping.

(Actually, that last one can get kind of annoying, and she's honestly had to just throw the book aside and climb into his lap on more than one occasion, because for someone so smart he can still be so clueless.)

But anyway, there are times when it's cute... and this isn't one of them.

It's a Friday, so Barceló's VIP section is as packed as ever; in this case, with a multitude of women, since the theme of the evening happens to be ladies' night. Regardless of the sea of heads, from the booth she's sitting in Carla has a perfect view of where Samuel is casually leaning against the fluorescent bar on the other side of the room, which means she's also had just as clear a line of sight to the random girl who's been chatting him up for the past fifteen minutes.

And counting, because the thing is, Carla's almost positive the idiot has no idea he's being flirted with. She's not about to let her mood dictate her into tearing other women down, so she can admit the girl is pretty: her hair is long and dark, cascading all the way down to her lower back, and she's got full lips painted a shade just as deep. Her dress is tight and short—which obviously isn't unusual, even Carla's following that trend, but she's just tall enough that Samuel's knuckles are dangerously close to brushing the hem were she to shift an inch. Carla's sure the possibility of that happening is astoundingly high, based on how the girl is practically telegraphing the fact that she wants to fuck him.

And Carla has always been more observant than most, but seriously, it only takes someone with both functioning eyes and a brain to figure out what the girl's coy, bitten-lip smiles and glancing brushes against Samuel's arm mean. Based on the way Carla has watched her advances go unnoticed this whole time though, Samuel clearly doesn't have either. That probably says something about Carla's taste in men. As it is, however, she's too fucking irritated to hear it.

She doesn't even know why she's irritated. She and Samuel aren't together. They study for exams in his room, or watch movies on his laptop, or have disgusting, home cooked dinners around his coffee table, yes. They have plenty of sex too, sure. And maybe she falls asleep in his arms afterwards, most of the time. But nobody knows about that. Or knows about them, because there is no them, because they aren't together. Therefore, Carla has no reason to feel so... whatever it is she's feeling right now.