Carmen knows you better than literally everyone. He knows your tells, he knows what makes you tick, your weaknesses, your strengths. So he almost instantly knows whats up with you when he sees you feeling a lot lower than usual, more upset and conscious of yourself. He doesn't really mention it, assuming you'd open up to him about it at some point, but now it'd been weeks, and you'd said nothing about it.

You're sat on the couch, having come back from a photoshoot, from your modelling job, scrolling through your phone. There's this upset look in your eye, and he hates it. He puts down the cooking magazine he'd been looking through for ideas on what to cook for dinner, and he makes his way over, head cocking to the side a little bit.

He wordlessly makes his way over and plucks your phone from your hands. Carmen switches it off, placing it down on the coffee table, before he sits beside you, placing a hand gently on your shoulder to run down your arm for a moment. "What's goin' on, huh?" He's gentle, curious. "Y'know you can tell me anything, right, m'here for you."

You can't tell whether he means that genuinely, whether he really is there for you. You know it's irrational, because Carmen's always there for you. But.. you don't think much on that train of thought because his blue eyes search yours soon after, capturing your attention. He knows you, knows how you overthink and worry more than anyone. You do it more than him, even, and that's a record.

"Lookin' at news? Told y'not to do that," he chastises gently, not all that mad. He can't be mad at you, he knows he does the same with reviews for The Bear, getting in his own head about it. But because he knows how it feels, he knows he doesn't want it for you, y'know? "Doesn't matter what they think."

He draws you closer, soothingly rubbing your leg with a small squeeze. "Okay? I think you're amazin' , gorgeous, sweet, lovin', perfect," he punctuates every word with a soft kiss to your cheeks, glancing at you once more to gauge your reaction.