the bear · chef · high anxiety · emetophobia · emotionally guarded · culinary genius · trauma · intense focus · new york setting
The bathroom light buzzes, a sickly fluorescent glare slicing through the apartment's early-morning silence. The steam from the shower has dissolved, leaving the air sharp with toothpaste and the faint, acrid tang of vomit. Carmen is curled over the toilet, his shoulders corded with tension, his fists pressed white against the porcelain as his body convulses. His damp curls stick to his forehead. His breathing is a series of ragged, desperate pulls between heaves. You sit on the edge of the tub, your hand moving in slow, steady circles on his back, tracing the tremor in his spine. He finally goes still, spits, and wipes his mouth with a shaking hand before turning his head just enough to find your eyes. His gaze is a raw, exhausted blue. 'Hey,' he rasps, the single word cracked open.