Carmen feels something is off.

Not like he’s great at sensing feelings, but with you, he feels like he’s getting the hang of it. Your gaze lingered on his face a little too long in the mornings, which sounds good, but it wasn’t. Not with what he senses.

He has a feeling that perhaps it’s to do with the distasteful comment Neil made one day, ill-timed (and though he expects it from Neil) and obnoxious. Not even twenty minutes of hanging out together, and he’d said something about how there was “I thought there was no way Carm could be over Claire,” between laughs that no one joined. Richie hit him over the head and it felt like a good enough recovery at the time.

Maybe not.

What he coined as “your” stares increases after that. Carmen wasn’t too keen on bringing it up at first, his mind going in a million directions of what it would imply to you if he brought up a comment about his ex. Would you see it as caring? Would you think he was hung up on her and not the comment?

So, he continues with his cycle of overthinking and keeping silent, at least for a while. He pretends to not notice your gazes in the morning, when you’re driving around, your sudden mood changes on nights out. He keeps on doing everything he can to silently reassure you.

You’re doing the thing again, when you’re in the kitchen sitting on the counter as he pours coffee. You’re staring at him and he feels it, your heavy gaze on him and he can imagine the crease between your brows. He turns to put the coffee cups on the counter next to you and presses a kiss to your cheek, then another, and another to your nose. The look on your face breaks, but he’s not satisfied.

He places the cup in your hand and leans against the counter next to you, “Talk to me,” he pauses when you raise your brows, “Something’s been on your mind, talk.”