warnings : dark themes, pregnancy
♡
"i'm outside... can we please talk?" carlos' tone was pleading, hints of exhaustion evident in his tone, and after a week of not speaking to him, nor answering any of his calls and messages— it seemed as if the spaniard has exhausted all his restraint and anxiously drove to your flat.
you closed your eyes briefly, internally cursing yourself for answering the call. you should have continued to ignore him. you should have looked away the moment his name popped up in your phone. now you were involuntarily made aware that he was here. just outside your building. possibly waiting in vain.
"baby, please." he begs, "we need to talk."
"five minutes, carlos." you relent with a sigh. deciding it was better to have the much dreaded conversation now than prolong the agony. you'd been acting as if nothing was wrong, as if you had a collar on what was happening... but you knew your delusions would soon come to pass after a few months.
that first sight of him was agonizing. he looked devastating and gorgeous at the same time, as he leans against the hood of his ferrari. carlos immediately straightens as he sees you, and you were soon engulfed in a familiar embrace.
"te echo tanto de menos querida." he breathes in relief, closing his eyes at the feeling of finally being able to hold you.
carlos was sure he'd go positively crazy had he waited for another minute of being without you, and so— he took the earliest flight, and despite being without sleep and enduring a taxing weekend, carlos' first urge was you. he needed to see you. he needed to be assured that you were still here. he could touch you. he could hold you.
you hadn't ran for the hills.
you won't leave him.
he nuzzles his face at the crook of your neck, hugging you closer to his body as he dispels those irrational and untrue thoughts. you were tangible, you were in his arms. everything would be okay. as they were before. as they would always be.
"carlos," you call out softly, pressing a firm hand against his chest so he would let go of you. his brown eyes looked at you with a look of hurt and confusion, and while it tugged at your heart strings to see him look so dejected, you couldn't have a proper conversation if you let your emotions lead you. "we only have a few minutes to talk. let's not waste it."
you brush off his hands on you, stepping back and crossing your arms to yourself. you hoped to keep a proper distance from him. lest you get swayed by his affections, or worse, get pictured by passerby's in a compromising position you wouldn't be able to explain.
carlos seemed to recover quickly from your evasiveness, worriedly reaching out a hand when you shivered from a gush of wind.
"no. stay where you are."
carlos paused, furrowing his brow in thought. "querida, i know you're mad at me. and i understand why, but there's no reason you should be enduring anything for my sake."
"if it isn't already obvious, i don't intend to stand around and chat for longer than a few minutes. so can we please, just get on with it?" you utter in exasperation. "it's bad enough that we're having this conversation."
"my car is warm and tinted." carlos insists, unable to concentrate on anything else unless he deemed you comfortable. "please, querida."
you groan at his stubborness, stomping towards his passenger seat and allowing him to shut the door for you. you were silent as he enters the car, sitting down and adjusting the heat attentively.
"so much better, no?" he says, grasping your hands thoughtfully, intertwining your cold fingers to his warm ones gently. "you aren't built for the cold, querida." carlos chides, as if he was speaking to a petulant child. "the weather is much more kinder in spain, i reckon you'd find it lovely at this time of the year."
"i'm not interested in playing house with you." you say, pulling your hands back.
"it's not playing. when have i ever given you the impression?" and for a second he looked hurt. "you're my life." he declares seriously.
you look away, steeling your heart. it's what he always utters lovingy on your skin, how he ends phone calls, and the familiarity of it all makes you wanna cry. you'd missed him. you'd missed him so much.
the last time you had a conversation, you were fighting. you'd come to verbal blows and said things you both didn't mean for reasons that seemed utterly senseless now.
yet you still held firm in your earlier convictions. you had to. it was the rational thing to do.
carlos' eyes softens when he sees where your hands were touching, feeling an overwhelming bout of love, if it were even possible. he had been on a constant state of being madly inlove upon meeting you, yet it seemed to magnify more upon discovering that your love had come to fruiton.
"frijol pequeño, have you been good?" his hand gently rested on your abdomen as he spoke to the barely visible, two month baby bump. per his calculations. "i'm sorry that you had to see your mama and i fight."
"carlos." you warn. "stop it."
"what are you afraid of?" carlos addresses you, brown eyes staring deep into your soul as if seeing through your mask. your false pretense of strength wilts, and the woman he loves shines through.
carlos could see how vulnerable and scared you were.
"what are you afraid of, huh?" he cups your cheeks, and with a gentle but firm nudge, moved you to face him. "i'm here. estaré aquí en cada paso del camino, querida. i won't let you do anything by yourself."
"it's not that simple..." your voice was barely above whisper, "what would my maman think? my brothers— charles barely knows we're seeing eachother, and arthur..."
"you'll worry yourself sick by thinking too much about other people. baby, all you have to think about is yourself, how do you feel?" carlos urges you, "i'll take care of everything." he utters with certainty, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. your eyelashes fluttered by the tentative brush of his lips.
"we'll get married in madrid, in a grand ceremony fit for a princess." he murmurs against your lips, looking at you with plain adoration and awe. "all you have to do is walk the aisle and say yes."
"carlos..."
"we can live in monaco and mallorca, or in any part of the world. you only need to tell me and you'll have it." carlos brushes his nose against yours, "there is no lifetime where i would deny you."
"it's too fast." you could only muster, pathetically. all sort of defense leaving your person.
"no it's not." carlos smiles charmingly, "i have known you all my life, here." he lifts your hand and places it against his heart. you scoffed-choked on a laugh at his cheekiness, saying a "you're funny." in a small voice, as you allowed yourself to let go.
carlos wraps his arms around your frame, and you nuzzled your face on his shoulder, his soothing caress helped you come down from your emotional high.
you were undeniably overwhelmed by emotions. but who could blame you? you were barely seeing eachother for less than three months, and you're suddenly, knocked up? either you're the sloppiest person in the world, or carlos has super sperm... but you were certain you regularly took contraceptives.
"i have you, querida." carlos assures you, kissing your temple reverently. "and i'm the only one you need." you closed your eyes, taking strength from his words.
you didn't have to know what kind of measures carlos had done to ensure you end up here. in his arms. you didn't have to know he's long been replacing your contraceptives with placebos. you didn't have to know that he's never left anything to fate, since he met you.
you only need to know he loves you and he'll do absolutely anything for you.
