Category: Character X Character

POV: Player

Requested by: N/A, author idea

******I don't really ship this as it exuded underage vibes to me but here ya go PlayCarm fans.

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September 7

Madrid, Spain

19:36, C.E.S.T.

Carmen Sandiego was the most important person in his world. Ever since they'd met, the lady in red ingrained herself deeper and deeper into his life.

After she escaped the aisle of VILE, he fell deeply and madly in love with her.

Unfortunately, his affection wasn't reciprocated, no matter how real his fantasies seemed. At least, not in the way he felt them.

Carmen considered him little brother to her. Locking him into the place of sibling-like-sidekick and tossing away the key. Never seeing him as anything more or less, not even when everyone else in her life left or betrayed her, and he was the only one to stick by her.

But he was content, he told himself. As long as he could stay with her. As long as he could stand by her side and ensure she was happy. He would do anything for her. Would give up anything for her. Whether she knew it or not.

Their relationship remained that way for seven years.

Player was strolling up to one of Carmen's residence's, a small, studio apartment tucked away within the exquisite boulevards of Madrid, Spain. The woman was still practicing as a professional thief, gallivanting around the world to crime hotspots, unraveling secrets of high-profile organizations, and single handedly taking down entire criminal operations.

Though they had finally put an end to VILE nearly three years ago, ACME was still after the scarlet-clad super-thief.

Zack and Ivy retired from a life of crime after VILE was out of the picture, re-entering the professional racing circuit and currently bagging first place all over the world. Graham, whom Carmen reconnected and began some sort of year-long fling with, cut off all contact after their affair ended. Any other friends Carmen picked up along the ride had slowly drifted away.

And Shadowsan. . .passed away. He suffered a fatal wound from a crackle rod just months before they defeated VILE. And this occurred only days before Carmen discovered that Vera Cruz was dead. That her mother had been gone for ten years before they'd found out. She had lost every parental figure in her life.

Player remembered what a dark place Carmen disappeared into during that time. He had stayed with her at all times, whether physically or virtually, despite her violent, enraged outbursts, constant sobbing episodes, and nightmare plagued nights. He hated to say it, but he believed her mentor's death provided the final motivation the woman needed to take down VILE, once and for all.

He gave up everything for her during that time, turning down a scholarship to one of the most prestigious universities in the world to be able to be there for her. Carmen didn't know, of course. She would be guilt-ridden if he ever told her, and possibly would've killed him. At eighteen, when he was a legal adult, he left home to join her in her travels, offering a freelance tech support service to support himself, knowing Carmen didn't like to use the money she stole.

He had even moved to Madrid along with her. Player had to commute over an hour to reach her place, a fact he did not at all appreciate. He was staying with a friend who lived across town and worked an actual job at a Tech Firm now.

He still took care of her to this day, and would do so till the end of time.

He walked into her apartment complex casually, his heart pulsating violently and threatening to burst out of his chest. Player sighed, collecting himself before knocking on her door.

When Carmen opened the door, he was at a loss for words, not able to comprehend the angel that stood before him.

A halo seemed to illuminate her pear-shaped figure, her creamy caramel brown skin radiating warmth. Carmen's dark hair brushed her collarbone, cascading in short, soft red-brown waves. A much more practical and sophisticated alternative to the wild mane she sported in her early twenties. Her lips were painted her signature red, the color accentuating small details, like how her bottom lip was a little bit fuller than the top.

Over the years, player had grown as well. Not enough to be what society considered a tall man, but enough so that he had one or two inches on Carmen. He preferred it over his prepubescent shortness, especially since she now had to tilt her chin slightly to peer at him with her large, inquisitive grey-blue eyes.

He blinked once, and the heavenly light he had imagined around her disappeared, replaced by the dim white glow of a lamp. He opened his mouth, flustered, and tried to think of something to say to break the awkwardness that was settling between them.

Luckily, she didn't give him the chance.

"Hey. Come on in."

Player watched her hips sway as she walked back to her couch before following. The space Carmen was currently residing in was maybe around five-hundred feet, max. It wasn't her only home; she had many all over the world. But, due to a drastic spike in gang activity in Madrid, Carmen had purchased the apartment while she worked on busting the triad. That was currently flooding the city.

In one corner was a bed fitted with black and red sheets and a hamper, a set of shelves dividing the section from the rest of the apartment. In the center of the room, a small couch was placed in front of a flatscreen TV, a cozy red rug beneath it. A mini kitchen area in the back was set with white tiling and shiny red appliances.

Player passed a wall covered with framed photos, his eyes lingering on one of them both that was taken on a couple months ago. They both were looking at each other, wide smiles occupying their faces as confetti rained from overhead. Red balloons spelling twenty-eight we're behind them. Carmen had been so preoccupied by a lead supplied by an anonymous informer that she'd forgotten her own birthday. Player had organized a surprise party for her, inviting Zack, Ivy, and a few of her friends from around the world. The days worth of effort it took to organize the endeavor all had been worth it. Just to see her relax. Just to see her face light up with a red-lipped smile that haunted his wildest dreams.

Carmen plopped onto the two seater couch, flipping on the TV. With no place else to sit nearby, Player gulped and sat beside her, his skin tingling when her thigh brushed his.

"I'm sorry for asking you to come over on such a short notice." She flipped through her channels, finally giving up and selecting the Netflix icon.

"No problem, red." He said, reaching into the bowl of popcorn she had set on the table before them. "You know I always have time for you."

She shot him a warm, grateful smile that made his heart patter. "Thanks, player." Carmen pressed "play" on the movie, Extremely Wicked Shockingly Evil and Vile. Then, as the opening music began to filter through the speakers, she spoke."So."

"So?"

A teasing smile played on her lips. "So . . .how was your date with that girl last night?"

He had not expected that. "Oh. Uh, it went. . . fine?"

"Come on, I need details! Tell me everything!"

Player went on to recount his date last night. It had been with a college senior named Keisha. She had asked him out a week ago, and had treated him to a seafood place on the edge of town.

The truth was, Player had enjoyed the night with her. The date felt more like two friends having a good time rather than anything romantic. He simply never found himself attracted to any other woman. His heart was, after all, in the possession of a certain thief, unbeknownst to her. Most girls were annoyed when he told them the truth, and left abruptly after paying for their portion of the meal. A few stormed off and refused to pay for even half of the meal. When he confessed this to Keisha, luckily, she was understanding, and willing to be friends. Since Carmen wasn't interested, he offered her his extra ticket to comic-con, and she had accepted. That was just about the best his dates with other women ever went.

Maybe in another life, one where he wasn't entangled in crime, Player could've loved Keisha. She was funny, sweet, humble, and beautiful. The two had a lot in common, with both entering the IT field and having a deep rooted passion for gaming. His undying love for Carmen stood in the way of any lighting of any spark between them.

As he finished his tale, Carmen sighed. "Geez. I really was hopeful this time. You haven't had a serious relationship. Ever."

He rolled his eyes. "It's fine, red. You know I don't really care about relationships." Except with you.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "So you say. Look, dude, I just don't want you turning into a creepy cat lady or something."

"Carm, I don't even like cats. They're too. . . I dunno, hissy. And mean."

"What are you talking about? Cats are freaking adorable." She crossed her arms, feigning shock.

"Nuh-uh. No way. Dogs are way better. They are man's best friend after all."

"Then I suppose cats are a woman's best friend. The superior gender with a superior pet."

He scoffed, smiling. "Superior gender? Ha. Why don't you become a creepy cat lady instead?"

"I will. Once I settle down somewhere, I'll go and adopt all the cats in a shelter."

"Yeah, good luck with that."

She wrinkled her nose at him. "Just watch, Player. Just watch."

"Go right ahead red. Just don't expect me to come cat-sit."

"As if. I can handle a few fur balls. I took down VILE, remember?"

Player didn't answer immediately, as he was focused on how the light from TV illuminated her features. Carmen's sharp jaw curved elegantly, and the thin bridge of her nose was highlighted. Her face was all shadows with only high points of her features glowing.

He caught himself moments later. "With my help!"

Carmen laughed, the sound rich and sweet, like fresh honey harvested on a warm summer day.

The two fell into a comfortable silence, and turning their attention to the movie, making snide remarks to one another here and there. Player's attention drifted to his best friend ever so often, and he enjoyed the rare opportunity to gaze at her without worrying about coming off as strange.

About halfway into the movie, Carmen abruptly returned to the Netflix home screen.

"Hey!" He said. "Why'd you turn it off?"

She shook her head, her voice oddly sullen. "I was getting bored of it. Let's watch something else."

Carmen settled further into the couch, snuggling into his side. The movement caused his face to flush a shade of red deeper than her coat. To his luck, she wasn't facing him and didn't see.

Neither said a word for a while, and he attempted to break the silence. "S-so, uh, what exactly d-did you call me for?" Player winced at the stutter in his voice.

Carmen stayed quiet for a while, her attention focused solely on the TV. She thumbed through the different TV Shows and Movies, finally selecting a random documentary.

"Red?"

She sighed, closing her eyes and biting her bottom lip. "It's stupid, really. I just wanted some company. I'm sorry if I pulled you away from something important."

Player decided not to mention his sudden vanishing act from his close friend Amelio's bachelor party. "Carmen, It's not stupid. I was just sitting at home and gaming. I promise. Please, tell me what's wrong."

She turned her body to face him. For the first time that night, he noticed that her eyes were bursting with red, irritated veins, and sparkling under the artificial light. Tears had filled to the brim and threatened to spill out of their confinement.

Carmen stood, abruptly. "I need a drink," she muttered, and sulked in the direction of her fridge. She returned with two beers in her hands, pawing one at him without asking if he wanted it or not.

Player was an extremely lightweight drinker. Alcohol sent him into a stupor very easily. One shot would muddle his usually very productive brain. He was afraid of what an entire bottle would do. Player had never been drunk in front of Carmen before. He was tempted to decline, but due to his friend's fragile emotional state, he accepted hesitantly.

Carmen sat down, popping the lid of her beer with a bottle-opener. She threw her head back, downing half the bottle in one smooth gulp before straightening again, squeezing her eyes shut as she swallowed. "Carmen. Tell me what is it." He pleaded with her.

She remained silent, staring at player's bottle. He sighed, realizing she wasn't going to talk until he took a drink, too. Warily, he lifted the opening of the drink to his mouth, taking a long, drawn out sip. He shivered as the liquid slipped down his throat, setting fire to every raw bit of skin that it touched. The drink empowered him all while burning him down. He decided to take on more. One turned into two which turned into five. He did not stop until he had less left than Carmen herself.

Satisfied with his efforts, Carmen cleared her throat. As she began, her breath was ragged and her voice stuttered as if she was speaking on behalf of a painful subject. "I-I just don't k-know why I f-feel this way."

He looked at her intensely, providing her his undivided attention and silently encouraging her to continue.

"I-I f-feel so alone, player. It-it's like I d-d-d-don't m-matter. W-when I wake up ev-ever-everyday, I just want to g-go back t-to bed and never leave. I l-look in the mirror and I hate the p-person I s-see. Wh-whenever I'm in crowded places, I-I-I just want to duck my head and d-disappear. A-and I'm sad. I-I'm s-sad p-player. I'm s-sad. . . .a-a-a-all th-the time."

He felt dejected. His best friend was feeling this way all this time and he hadn't known? The alcohol made him bold, so he moved closer. He gripped her hand, and when she didn't resist, entwined his fingers within hers. "Carmen, why didn't you tell me?"

"I-I-I didn't w-want t-to b-bother you. I-I'm j-just a b-b-burden. M-me and m-my st-stupid emotions."

Player sighed, his own tears threatening to escape the tiny dam his cataracts provided. He cupped her cheek and tilted her chin upwards ever so slightly, so she could see his face. ."No, red. No no no no. God. Please don't do that. It hurts even more not knowing if you're okay."

"I-I-I'm sorry I-I h-hurt you. I-I'm a b-b-bad p-person." Carmen glanced at him once before burying her face into his chest to his surprise. Her ragged breaths morphed into muffled screams. Tears burst forth from her eyes like an erupting geyser. He felt the muscles of her chin trembling against her body as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

They stayed that way, unmoving, with Carmen letting down her sky-high walls for once, pouring her grievances out, soaking his sweatshirt with the salty fluids. Meanwhile, player murmured small comforts to her, stroking her hair gently. When he finally broke from his trance, he noticed the TV was in the midst episode two of the docu-series, meaning Carmen and Player had stayed within each other's arms for over an hour.

Carmen's sobs had quieted down to hiccups and soft moans of anguish. Her head was resting on his chest, the beats of her heart and the intervals between the breaths in her lungs in sync with that of his own.

She finally emerged from his chest, her eyes red and her face smeared with goopy black streaks. The first thing she did was inspect his sweatshirt. "I ruined you're shirt." Her voice trembled, like she was ready to cry again.

"It was old anyway," he whispered to her. "There isn't enough space for Amelio and my clothes at the apartment. You did me a favor."

He was afraid she wouldn't accept the answer, but she did, the smallest of smiles lighting her features.

"I'm sorry you have to see me like this." She said, guilt laced in her tone.

"Oh, Carmen, no. I want to be able to be there for you. I-I'm glad you told me. If anything were to happen to you, I—-"

Player stopped mid sentence, swallowing his fears of rejection. The alcohol that was coursing through his veins had inspired a newfound confidence within him that seemed to never appeared when he was sober.

"I don't know what I'd do without you. I—Carmen, I love you." His voice wavered, and the words were said in barely a whisper. Still, it was enough. The sound carried over to his best friend, who looked up, shock evident amongst the stormy blue that ringed her pupils.

"What?" Her voice was hoarse and shaken, filled with confusion.

They made eye contact and stared at each other with longing and fear, afraid of what the other might do and what they themselves wanted to do.

"I said. . . I said I love you, Carm. I always have, a-and-and, I always will."

Silence descended over them. As Player dealt with the weight of his confession, Carmen caught him by surprise.

He couldn't quite process what was happening when her lips brushed against his, and did not move out of shock. She kissed him, at first lightly, filled with hesitance and was holding back. Ready for him to pull away and take back his words. The tender, slight feel of her mouth melted into something sweeter when he reciprocated. The feel of her sent tsunamis of emotions and hormones flooding every corner of his body. Involuntarily, the two pulled themselves closer to one another, her arm gently clutching his shoulder, and his hand finding its way back into the knots and tangles in her hair. The contact between them was an answer, comforting in a way that words could never be.

Before it might've gone further, she pulled away suddenly, facing him. Carmen and Player, inches apart, gaped at each other, unsure of what to say and what to do, gasping slightly and trying to restore the flow of air within their lungs. His best friend's hair was wild, circling her head like a frizzy bird's nest. Her eyes were full of desire, and her tear stained cheeks were red from the lack of air. Carmen's lips throbbed slightly, her lipstick smeared onto her chin revealing a glimpse of their natural pink.

Trying not to focus on how beautiful she was, Player opened his mouth to apologize, even though she had made the first move, simply to break the torturous silence.

Carmen didn't let him, her lips finding his again. Almost immediately, though, she pulled away, this time scurrying as far away from him as possible on the couch. "We can't. We can't. Wh-what just happened?"

Player inhaled deeply. "I told you how I've felt for seven years and I think you kissed me, but that part is a little hazy in the memory." He answered matter-of-factly, risking stating his mind even though the buzz from the alcohol had now worn off, replaced by an even more all-consuming feeling of desire, built up over years and years of keeping his mouth shut.

Man. If he'd known she'd have reacted like this, he would've told her on his eighteenth birthday.