Five Minutes to Midnight
Carl x Eve
romance
one-shot

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Oh, shit.

My first words weren't smooth. They didn't glide on my tongue like a poetic sum of meaningless words that I uttered in a grand total of five minutes. They weren't your classic Romeo and Juliet, but I definitely saw them as romantic. Here, tense in the moment as I gazed in her cut-throat ruby eyes. Her smile was pleasing; it was relaxing. It was contagious. My own mouth had a fleeting grin as I tried to concentrate on work.

What the hell is she doing here?!

"Wow. This is some place you got here," she coos slickly, and my throat closes up, making me gargle and cough. Her glance stares me down, and I immediately stop, playing it cool as I swiped down a nearby table. She turns away, and I can almost hear the rollage of eyes.

"Duke says you quit. I was surprised at first, y'know—" her fingers trace a chair and she sits, gently plopping herself soundless. "But now I get it."

I grin again, flashing my (Dear God, I hope) pearly-whites. The swishing of my rag was the only thing audible at this moment, if you didn't count my beating heart or her piercing glare. Yes, her piercing glare had a noise. It sounded like—

"…You're an idiot, Carl."

I gulp, trying to digest the statement and my head leans down. With my face hidden, I mentally kick myself repeatedly. I cough. She shifts. We're uncomfortable.

"I mean it in a positive way."

What the hell, woman!

"You see," she stands, and eagerly walks towards the counter, where I am wiping down nothing except my anguish. "We need you Carl!"

I glance up, my hazel, innocent eyes meeting up with her fiery ones for the first time.

"I can't do this alone. I don't want to…"

Cue; eyes widening. I open my mouth — nothing comes out. Her eyes look pleading, almost begging. Her usually crystal clear eyes are blurry at this point, misty with hidden feelings. Her tears were suffocating me. It was contagious. My vision became clouded as I lifted my head higher until I became to her level.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm lost. I become grumpy with costumers," she turns away slightly, and giggles a bit. "Do you know how many times I've said 'fuck you'to Hank and that drunkard, Blue?"

I open my mouth to speak.

"—or how about the time I've said 'feed your own damn self' to that freeloading cat, Ray? Can't forget about the time I called Woody a pansy for not … !"

Our lips met, and a surprised gasp uttered from her mouth. It was quickly silenced by passion, and my hands found hers. For that fleeting second that seemed to last forever, I had died. When we detached and pulled away slowly, the single tear that had fallen from her face said it all. I wiped it, forgetting my own face was flooded with happiness.

My first words weren't smooth. They didn't glide over my mind like some pathetic poem of love that lasted a total of five minutes. They weren't even words. Heck, it didn't even last the grand total of five minutes.

Until she pulled in again.

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Carl & Eve is my newest favorite crack!pairing. Bow down to it!

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