lana✦

You blew out a breath of cold air, shoving your hands into the pockets of the coat you had over your jacket. The host, unfamiliar to you as any of Carmy’s family, quickly scanned the list before nodding.

“Ah, yes, for 9:30. I’ll get you seated right this way.”

You shot a quick glance over your shoulder at your two best friends, Sophia and Josh, who were huddled together, grinning like they were in on the best secret in the world. Which, technically, they were.

“This is so exciting,” Sophia whispered, grabbing your arm as you followed the host through the restaurant. “I feel like I’m about to meet the president or something.”

“It’s just a restaurant,” you whispered back, though your heart was already pounding in a way that betrayed your nonchalant tone. “And you’ve met Carmy before. Multiple times.”

“Yeah, but not in his natural habitat,” Josh chimed in, squeezing Sophia’s hand. “This is his domain. His kingdom. We’re witnessing the king in his castle.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. They weren’t wrong. This was different. You’d been to The Bear plenty of times—after hours, when the kitchen was quiet and Carmy would make you something simple just for the two of you, or early mornings when he was prepping and you’d sit at the counter with a drink, watching him work. But you’d never been here during actual service.

You’d never seen him in full chef mode.

And you wanted to. You wanted to see the version of him that everyone else saw. The one who was intense and focused and maybe definitely a little terrifying. 

You’d heard all the stories from Richie and Syd from how Carmy was beforehand. Before you. You knew Carmy could be a storm in that kitchen. But you also knew the calm after the storm. 

The version of him that he liked to reserve just for you.

The host led you through the dining room, which was filled with the low chatter of conversation, the clinking of glasses, the occasional burst of laughter. The lighting was warm, intimate, and the air smelled like garlic and butter and something caramelizing. It was beautiful.

You tried to keep your eyes forward, not wanting to give away your presence too soon. But you couldn’t help sneaking a glance toward the open kitchen, where you could see the flash of white jackets and the glow of the flames.

And then you saw him.

Carmy was at the pass, plating something with a level of concentration that made your stomach flip. His brow was furrowed, his jaw set, and his movements were precise, almost surgical. He looked so serious. So in his element.

You felt a rush of affection so strong it almost made you dizzy.

“Your table, ma’am,” the host said, gesturing to a small, cozy table near the window. “Your server will be with you shortly. Enjoy, and thank you for stopping by The Bear.”

You thanked him and slid into the seat that faced the kitchen, because of course you did. Sophia and Josh sat across from you, still holding hands, still grinning.

“He looked so intense back there,” Sophia murmured, leaning in. “Like, I’m actually a little scared.”

“That’s Carm, he’s in the zone.” you said, laughing softly. 

“Should we wave?” Josh asked, already half-raising his hand.

“No!” you hissed, grabbing his wrist. “Not yet.”

They both gave you knowing looks, and you felt your cheeks warm. You’d been so excited about this surprise for weeks. 

You’d planned it down to the last detail. The late reservation, the perfect timing so that you’d be here just before closing. You wanted to see his face when he realized you were here. 

You wanted to see him break out of that intense focus and stress you know he carried so often and turn into your Carmy, if only for a moment.

You were still smiling to yourself when a familiar voice cut through the air.

“Alright, welcome to The Bear, the best damn restaurant in this city. My name is Richie and I’m—oh.”

Richie stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening as he looked down at you. He was holding a small notepad and a pen, clad in a pristine tuxedo, clearly all business, but it faltered the second he recognized your face.

“Holy shit,” he said, his voice dropping. “Honey?”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing. “Hi, Richie.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” He leaned down to embrace you, lowering his voice like he was about to spill a state secret. “Does Cousin know you're here?”

“No,” you said, unable to hide your grin. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Richie’s face broke into a huge, delighted smile. “Oh, he’s going to lose his shit.”

He looked over at Sophia and Josh, pointing at them with his pen. “And you two! The lovebirds! I remember you from that thing at the—fuck, whatever, doesn’t matter. You’re here. Good to see you.”

“Surprise!” Sophia said, waving her fingers.

“Yeah, no kidding.” Richie was already backing away, his eyes still locked on you. “Hold on. Hold on. Don’t move. Don’t go anywhere. I’m getting him. Shit.”

He turned and practically jogged toward the kitchen, leaving you, Sophia, and Josh alone at the table.

“That was amazing,” Josh said, laughing. 

“Yeah, Carmen’s gonna freak out,” Sophia added, practically bouncing in her seat leaning around to try and get a glimpse of the kitchen.

Your heart was definitely racing now. You watched the kitchen door, waiting, your fingers drumming nervously on the table.

It didn’t take long.

The kitchen door swung open so hard it almost hit the wall, and Carmy emerged like a man on a mission. He was still in his chef’s coat, his hair slightly disheveled, his eyes scanning the dining room with an intensity that made a few nearby diners look up.

And then his gaze landed on you.

Everything about him shifted.

His shoulders dropped. His expression softened. The hard, focused lines of his face melted into something open and surprised and so, so tender.

He was at your table in seconds, his hands reaching for yours, pulling you up out of your chair and into a hug that made your entire body feel warm.

“Honey,” he sighed, his voice muffled against your hair. “Fuck, what are you doing here? You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“I wanted to surprise you,” you said, laughing as you pulled back just enough to look at his face. “Surprise.”

He shook his head, pulling you back into him again, a disbelieving smile spreading across his face. “God, baby, I’m so glad you’re here.” 

“Hi, Carmen,” Sophia said, waving from her seat.

He blinked, as if just now noticing your friends were there. “Oh. Hey. Sophia. Josh.” He nodded at them, still holding your hand. “You guys are—yeah. Hi. How are you doing?”

“Good. We’re the surprise witnesses,” Josh said, grinning. “She’s been planning this for weeks.”

“Weeks?” Carmy turned back to you, his eyebrows raised. “You’ve been planning this for weeks and you didn’t say anything?”

“I wanted it to be perfect,” you said, shrugging. “And it is. Look at you. You’re all... chef-y. So handsome, Carm.”

He let out a huff, running his free hand through his hair. “I’m a mess, honey.”

“You’re beautiful,” you said, because you couldn’t help it, and you watched his cheeks flush slightly.

He squeezed your hand and then looked around the dining room, his expression turning serious, his anxiety and perfectionism taking over again. “You should’ve told me, you’re at Table 12. That’s... that’s not the best seat in the house. You should be at—hold on. Let me fix this.”

“Carmy, it’s fine,” you stopped him with a slight tug.

“No. No, it’s not fine. You’re not sitting at the worst table in my restaurant. Give me a second.”

He turned and walked toward the host stand, and you watched as he had a quick, quiet conversation with the host, gesturing toward your table. 

You rolled his eyes at his dramatics, turning to see Sophia and Josh giving you impressed, knowing smirks. 

“Stop it, guys,” you hushed them, your cheeks heating furiously with blush.

Back at the front, the host nodded, looking slightly flustered, and Carmy was back at your side in less than a minute.

“Okay, we’re moving you,” he said, already pulling you up. “There’s a better table in the back. More privacy. Better view. You’ll like it.”

“Carmy, we’re fine, you didn’t have to move us,” you said, letting him guide you through the dining room.

“You’re not fine. You’re my girl. You deserve the best seat in the house.” He shot a look over his shoulder at Sophia and Josh, who were following with amused expressions. “Both of you. You’re her people. You get the best too.”

He led you to a corner table, tucked away from the main flow of traffic, with a perfect view of the kitchen. It was cozy and intimate, and you realized he’d chosen it because it was close to the pass—close to him.

“This is better,” he said, pulling out your chair for you. “Sit. Stay. I’ll get you drinks.”

“We don’t have a server anymore,” you cheekily pointed out at the fact that he switched your table.

“You have me,” he said simply, and your heart did a little flip.

He disappeared into the kitchen and returned a few moments later with three glasses of wine, setting them down with care.

“On the house,” he said, looking at you. “Actually, everything’s on the house. Don’t even think about paying.”

“Carmy, that’s not why—”

“I’m not taking no for an answer.” He leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “You’re here. That’s enough.”

He straightened up and looked over at Sophia and Josh. 

“I’ll have them bring my specials out. Tonight we have our 72-hour lamb ragu, served over toasted bread rolls and chives. No allergies right?” Sophia and Josh both shook their heads. “Great, yeah, uh it’ll be right out.”

“Thanks man,” Josh nodded appreciatively while Sophia smiled, already sipping her wine.

Carmy nodded, gave your shoulder one last squeeze, and then headed back toward the kitchen.

But before he went through the doors, he turned back and crouched down to your side of the booth, his hand caressing the back of your head as he planted a soft kiss to your lips. You reciprocated, leaning in with fervor, smiling into the affection.

Carmy pulled away from the kiss hesitatingly, his hand resting on the side of your face. “I’m pretty busy back there, honey, so I’ll probably be in and out a lot.”

“It’s okay, Carmy. Go do your thing,” you nodded in understanding.

“Don’t leave, alright. Stay with me for closing.” His voice pitched up in a way that made you realize it was supposed to be posed as a question. 

“Okay,” your face softened.

“Okay,” he repeated back to you, before placing one more lasting peck to your lips and disappearing into the kitchen.

Slightly dazed, and grinning like an idiot you turned towards your friends who couldn’t help but tease and swoon at your lover’s antics.

The rest of the evening was a blur of incredible food, good wine, and laughter. Richie and Syd came out a few times to say hello to you, and have small talk. Meanwhile Carmy sent out course after course—the best things on the menu, things that weren’t even on the menu, things he made up on the spot just because he wanted to see your face when you tried them.

Sophia and Josh were in heaven. They kept telling you how lucky you were, how you’d found the most perfect man on the planet, and you couldn’t argue with them.

Around midnight, the restaurant began to empty out. The last few tables paid their checks and left, and the staff started the slow process of cleaning up. Sophia and Josh finally stood, stretching and yawning, their plates clean and their glasses empty.

“We should go,” Sophia said, pulling you into a hug. “This was amazing, honey. Thank you for bringing us.”

“Thank you for coming,” you said, hugging her back. “I know Carmy was glad to see you guys here.”

“Anytime,” Josh said, clapping you on the shoulder. “Tell Carmy we said thanks. And that he’s a genius. And that we’re definitely coming back.”

“I’ll tell him,” you promised.

You walked them to the door, waving as they climbed into their rideshare, and then you turned back to the restaurant.

It was quiet now. The low music had been turned off, and the only sounds were the distant clatter of dishes and the low murmur of voices from the kitchen.

You made your way back inside, and Carmy was waiting for you at the host stand, his jacket off, his sleeves rolled up, looking tired but happy.

“They leave?” he asked.

“Yeah.” You stepped into his space, looping your arms around his neck, nuzzling your nose against his. “They said to tell you thanks. And that you’re a genius.”

“Yeah? They liked it,” he questioned you, wanting to be sure your friends enjoyed their experience.

“Of course, they loved it. Thank you for tonight, Carmy, it was great.” You say earnestly, easing his ever constant worrisome mind.

“Good, I’m glad,” he said, pulling you closer, pressing his lips to your jaw. “Now. About your surprise.”

“What about it?”

“I wish you would’ve told me you were planning to come.” His voice was soft, but there was a hint of something serious underneath. 

“That defeats the purpose of a surprise Carm,” You tease.

“I know, I know. But I would’ve made sure you had the best table. I would’ve been ready. I wanted to see you walk in.”

“But you did see me,” you said, cupping his face in your hands. “And it was perfect. You were perfect.”

He sighed, leaning into your touch. “I just... I want everything to be good for you. Always.”

“It is,” you said. “Because I’m with you.”

He kissed you then, slow and sweet, and you felt the last of the tension leave his body.

“I love you,” he murmured against your lips.

“I love you too.” 

You pulled back, grinning up at him. "So. You done for the night?"

"Almost." He glanced toward the kitchen, then back at you, his eyes soft. "Gotta finish closing up. But I have something for you first. A couple people want to say hi."

He took your hand and led you through the dining room, past the empty tables and the dimmed lights, toward the swinging doors of the kitchen. You felt a flutter of excitement as he pushed them open.

The kitchen was quieter than you'd expected, the chaos of service replaced by the methodical cleanup. A few staff members were scrubbing down surfaces, others were putting away ingredients, and Marcus was at the pastry station, carefully arranging something on a small plate.

Carmy cleared his throat, and everyone looked up.

"Hey, everyone," he said, his voice carrying that familiar mix of authority and warmth. "This is my girl, honey. She was at Table 15 tonight."

A chorus of greetings erupted from the staff. Syd waved again from across the kitchen, a tired but genuine smile on her face. Tina gave you a warm nod, wiping her hands on her apron. A couple of line cooks you didn't recognize offered friendly hellos.

And Marcus, ever the sweetheart, picked up the plate he'd been working on and walked over to you.

"Hey, Honey. I heard you were here and I couldn't let you leave without trying this." He held out the plate, revealing a perfect slice of chocolate cake, drizzled with caramel and topped with a delicate tuile. "It's a new recipe I've been working on. Extra for you."

Your eyes widened. "Marcus, this looks incredible. Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." He grinned, glancing at Carmy. "Carmen's been talking about you all night. Figured you deserved something special."

You felt your cheeks warm as you accepted the plate. "Thank you. Seriously, this is so sweet of you."

"Anytime, Honey." He gave you a little wink before heading back to clean his station.

Richie sidled up next to you, a smug grin plastered across his face. "So, how was dinner, huh? Everything to your liking?"

"It was amazing, Richie. Thank you for taking care of us."

"Oh, I didn't do much." He leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Good thing, too, because cousin came busting back in here and demanded that you only had the best because his girl was here. Made sure every single person in this kitchen knew who you were and that you get VIP treatment."

You felt the heat creep up your neck, your blush intensifying. "He did not."

"Oh, he absolutely did." Richie laughed, clapping Carmy on the shoulder. "My guy was pacing back here like a nervous wreck, making sure every plate that went out to your table was perfect. Never seen him like that."

"Richie, shut up," Carmy muttered, his arm sliding around your waist.

"It's sweet," Syd called from across the kitchen, a teasing lilt in her voice. "He was like a little puppy. 'Is the lamb ragu good enough? Should I add more chives? Does she even like chives?'"

"Alright, that's enough," Carmy said, but his ears were turning pink, and you couldn't help but laugh, tucking your head into his shoulder to hide your burning cheeks.

"Don't worry, Honey," Tina added, drying her hands on a towel. "We made sure he didn't mess it up. You got the best of the best tonight."

"Thank you, everyone," you managed, your voice muffled against Carmy's coat. "Really. It was perfect."

Carmy squeezed your waist, then gently guided you away from the group. "Okay. Office. Now."

He led you through the back hall and into his small office, closing the door behind you. The room was cluttered but cozy—a desk covered in papers, a few framed photos, a worn-out couch in the corner.

He gestured for you to sit, and you settled onto the couch, the plate of Marcus's cake balanced on your lap.

"Here," he said, grabbing a fork and handing it to you. "Eat. Before it gets cold. Or, uh, room temperature. Whatever."

You laughed and took a bite, a small moan escaping your lips. "Oh my God. This is incredible. Marcus is phenomenal."

"Yeah, he's alright," Carmy said, but he was watching you with such intense fondness that you felt your heart swell.

You took another bite, then held out the fork to him. "Try it."

He leaned in, taking the bite from your fork, his eyes never leaving yours. "Good," he said, his voice low. "Really good."

The air between you shifted, charged and warm. Carmy set the plate aside carefully, his hand coming up to cup your face, thumb brushing across your cheekbone.

"You have no idea how beautiful you look tonight," he murmured, leaning in. "Sitting there, in my restaurant, with my food. Like you belonged there."

"I did belong there," you whispered back. "I belong wherever you are."

He kissed you then, deep and hungry, his free hand sliding into your hair, tilting your head back. You responded eagerly, your hands gripping the front of his coat, pulling him impossibly closer.

The kiss grew heated, his mouth moving against yours with a desperation that made your head spin. He shifted, one knee pressing onto the couch between your thighs, and you let out a soft gasp as his weight settled against you.

"Carmy," you breathed, but it came out more like a plea.

"I know," he murmured against your neck, his lips trailing down your jaw, your throat. "I know, baby. I just—fuck, I've been thinking about you all night. Watching you. Wanting you."

His hips pressed forward, a subtle, instinctive roll against yours, and you felt the hardness of him even through the layers of clothing. Your breath hitched, your hands fisting in his coat as he did it again, a small, desperate grind that sent sparks through your entire body.

"Carmy," you said again, your voice shaky.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his pupils blown wide, his lips kiss-swollen and parted. "Sorry. I'm sorry. I just—"

"Don't apologize," you cut him off, pulling him back down for another kiss. "Just—don't stop."

He groaned against your mouth, his hips rolling against yours once more, and you arched into him, the friction delicious and maddening. His hand slid down your side, gripping your hip, guiding the rhythm as you both chased the feeling.

It was messy and frantic and so, so good. But all too soon, Carmy pulled back with a ragged breath, his forehead pressed to yours.

"I want you so bad," he admitted, his voice rough. "But I need to finish closing up. And I want to do this right. Take you home. Take my time with you."

You nodded, breathless, your fingers still tangled in his coat. "Okay. Okay. Just—hurry?"

He let out a breathy laugh, pressing one last kiss to your lips. "I'll be as fast as I can. Stay here. Relax. Eat your cake."

He stood, straightening his coat, and you couldn't help but giggle at the sight of him—flustered, disheveled, clearly trying to compose himself.

"What?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing," you said, picking up the fork again. "You're just cute when you're all worked up."

He shook his head, but he was smiling as he opened the door. "I love you."

"I love you too," you said, watching him go.

You can feel his eyes darting to you every time he shifts, but you don’t say anything. Not now while Trinity is within earshot, and certainly not after the myriad of comments she’s made in the last week alone about the two of you. “You’re in love with him,” She said as she poured stale breakroom coffee into her mug, needing a quick pick me up in the middle of a long shift just a few days prior.

You rolled your eyes in the moment, but you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks before you could even respond with a dismissive “You’re talking out of your ass again.”

Not even an hour later, she was elbowing you as you both sat charting in a spare moment of downtime, an abrupt nod of her head across the room where Dennis stood, now bright red in the face and doing his best to seem as though he was in the middle of something very important. All it had really managed to do was make him look even more panicked when he ultimately met your eye. “He’s been staring like a lovesick puppy. Why don’t you two just give in already?”

This time, you said nothing in response, simply dropping your eyes back to your computer, typing faster than before in an attempt to escape her. Now, in the quiet darkness of their apartment, with some movie long forgotten in the background, you’re left wondering if she had a point.

Except, it's not really wondering when you know she does. You have for as long as you’ve been denying it, and a part of you thinks he does too.

And then, in the same manner as just a few days ago, his eyes find yours. Your breath catches for a split second, eyes locked on a shade of blue that sends shivers down your spine, and it’s then that certainty settles in heavy over your body. He knows, and he has for just as long as you.

It's weeks later before you even allow yourself to address the idea that is being in love with Dennis Whitaker.

Trinity’s had the day off, and she really is even luckier than usual for that. The influx of patients has been overwhelming in a way that's made the day fly by and drag on all at once, and you’re more than ready to be free from the ever present scent of antiseptic and the unshakable weight of the emergency department as you finish up the last of your charting.

By some spark of luck or chance of fate or interference from a deity you’re not sure you believe in, you and Dennis happen to be leaving at the same time. You see him at your locker, already slinging his jacket over his shoulders. It’s mid-December now- long past the days of light jackets. They’ve been calling for snow any time now, and so you’ve already gone through the hassle of beginning to carry around your heavy coat. Better to be safe than sorry.

As you’re slipping into the warm fabric, Dennis makes an observation. “You’re missing a button,” He says, eyes drifting between your face and your hands that have already moved to verify his words.

“Oh,” you say, lips pressing together as you look down. “Damn-”

You go ahead and continue to fasten the rest of the buttons anyway, one being left open isn’t going to be the end of the world, and shrug as you finish. “I think I’ve got the spare at home somewhere. I’ll sew it back on at some point..probably.”

He nods, and then you do the same before you both begin to head towards the exit. You don’t exchange any more words until you’re outside, wind whipping past you the second you’re out the doors.

You aren’t far at all into your walk to the parking lot- he always insists on making sure you’ve made it to your car- before he’s reaching a hand out to stop you. “It’s snowing,” He says quietly. You can hear something soft and warm in his tone, and it makes you bite back a smile. “Look.”

You direct your gaze to where he’s pointing at a street lamp, the light catching just right on the falling flurries, and you can’t fight the smile anymore. “First snow of the year,” You say in an equally soft tone as you turn to look at him, your shoulder brushing against his own from the proximity.

He nods and turns to smile at you. “Reminds me of home.”

You hum, not sure what the best response is, but knowing it isn’t silence.

He starts walking again, and you trail along by his side, eyes still drifting from the falling flakes you catch under the street lights to him and the ease of each step he takes, suddenly a lot lighter than he was walking out of PTMC. The thought warms your heart, and you find yourself forgetting about the missing button on your coat and the exhaustion of your shift. Instead, your thoughts are filled with nothing but a quiet, all encompassing infatuation for the man beside you.

You don’t know the exact moment things make a shift from strictly platonic and pining to something more, something real. You just know it’s happened. You go from sleeping over in Trinity’s bed or on their couch to waking up tucked into his chest after movie nights. When you walk to your car after shifts together, it’s not just so he can make sure you’ve reached it safely. It’s so you can both ride home together, small-talking about your day as he fidgets with the radio to find the right music. 

You wake up on shared days off to the smell of burnt toast and the unmistakable sound of him singing along to his current favorite song- sometimes one you’ve suggested, sometimes one he’s listened to a million times over.

You don’t hesitate to shuffle out to him with a yawn, his shirt hanging off your body as if it always belonged to you to begin with. And maybe in some ways it has because there’s a notion that he’s always belonged to you and you to him in the same manner. Some twist of fate or act of destiny written among the stars that ensured you two would fall for one another. That this wasn’t a pairing brought together for the sake of friendship. This is love in its truest form.

You don’t mention this new development to anyone, but you don’t hide it either.

Trinity knows because there’s no way to hide your newfound relationship with her roommate. It was inevitable that she’d take note, and if not through observation then by her catching the two of you tangled together one afternoon on the couch. Nothing too graphic, but just short of it as his hands caressed you like you were the most precious thing he’s ever held, and your lips locked with his as if you were speaking love letters directly into his mouth.

Your coworkers follow suit after. Some take note of the way you two arrive and leave together more frequently than before. Even when one of you has no excuse to wait on the other. Others catch sight of the photos that adorn your lockscreens, and more intimately, the photo he has plastered up in his locker. It’s simple- a snapshot of you, unaware but beautiful, smiling just for him- and it’s far too romantic to be anything but.

One night, Perlah is lucky enough to catch sight of the two of you in the parking lot. The day had been long, but you had both ridden to work with Trinity, and so you were stuck until she eventually made her way out to the car. You were leaned back against the door, looking at Dennis as if he’d hung the moon and sun and stars, and he was staring right back with the same intensity. You weren’t caged in per se, but he did have one arm resting against the car as he leaned in to steal a kiss from you mid-sentence. You smiled and nudged him before stealing a kiss of your own, and Perlah felt as if she’d won the lottery as she dialed Princess’ number almost immediately.

From there, word worked its way throughout the emergency department, but you and Dennis paid no mind to it. “We knew it would happen eventually” and “I told you so” echoed throughout as the gossip spread. And maybe they did know, and maybe most of them had said that it would happen- resulting in a betting pool no doubt- but it didn’t matter. Not now.