Bold: Riza
Italics: Roy
Underlined: Rebecca
Amestris Eastern University had only been back in session for a few days, but the usual crowd in the coffee shop had already changed from full time residents of the town to tired and hungover students desperate for a caffeine buzz before class. Even Rebecca and Havok were back to fill in the extra shifts that came with being busier.
"So, what's the deal with dark and scowling over there?" Rebecca nudged her head in the direction of one of their newest regulars. He'd been coming in every day for a week before term started, and while he wasn't in all the time since classes had started, Riza already knew his usual order by heart.
"You mean extra shot of espresso, no milk, and way too much sugar?" Riza asked. "No idea."
"Really?" Rebecca asked. "He keeps looking at you."
"No. He keeps swearing at his laptop." Riza pointed out. "He's probably just a grad student."
"Sure, Riri, whatever."
Riza bristled at the awful nickname. It didn't matter how many times she asked, insisted, and threatened Rebecca, the nickname hadn't gone away. Riza suspiciously thought that Rebecca just used it because she knew how much it annoyed her, and as a result had promised herself she wasn't going to say a damn word about it. Unless Havoc adopted it, and then all bets were off.
"Or he just wants more coffee." Riza said. "Or he's noticed you're talking about him and he's wondering what the crazy girl is up to?"
"If he wants coffee then he can come up to the counter like everyone else." Rebecca said. "And he looked over here first."
Riza pinched the bridge of her nose. It was Rebecca's second shift since she'd returned after the summer, and while Riza loved her best friend like a sister, she could be so headache inducing. "Just. I don't know. Go clean a table."
"Yes ma'am." Rebecca mock saluted and Riza reached for the stash of painkillers they kept behind the counter.
Two weeks later, once the town had fallen into its usual pattern of college life, and the sight of students was no longer an annoyance or a surprise, but just a fact of day to day life, Extra Shot of Espresso, No Milk, and Way Too Much Sugar arrived at the coffee shop ten minutes after Riza did - and she really needed to either find out his name, or find something short to call him. She wasn't going with Rebecca's 'tall, dark, and scowling' either.
The morning was still chilly, as autumn creeped in and chased summer away, and even though he was wrapped up in a royal blue hoodie and jeans, Riza felt a pang of sympathy and let him in ten minutes before they were due to open.
"I'm still setting up, but you can sit and wait."
"Thanks. When you're ready, can I have the strongest coffee you have?" Riza had seen a lot of exhausted people during her time, and Mr. Strong Coffee (was that better? It was shorter, at least) had the look of someone who had been up all night and was in desperate need of sleep, but who was substituting it for coffee.
Who hadn't been there?
"Sure." Riza offered him a small, but genuine, smile. Different to her usual customer service fake cheeriness she'd developed to survive the craziness of midterms.
As Riza finished getting the shop ready to officially open, Mr. Strong Coffee took up his usual table at the back, plugged his laptop in and got out a stack of books. She couldn't help but sneak a look at the titles as she brought him his obnoxiously strong coffee, and enough packets of sugar to fuel a small army. Most of them were on chemical thermodynamics, and a number of them had been written by her father.
"You're taking Professor Hawkeye's class?" Riza asked. "Is that what's got you here so early?"
"No, that would be Hughes and Gracia." He sighed. "The 'night time activities' I could just about handle, but the cutesy shit? I had to get out."
"Housemate and girlfriend?" Riza had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing.
"Yeah. The walls in the apartment are really thin." He admitted. "If I'm going to get through today, I'm going to need coffee. And maybe some brain bleach."
"Lucky for you, we have coffee." Riza said. "Less lucky for you, we are fresh out of brain bleach. Sorry."
"It was worth a shot." He said, and followed it with a smile that could melt hearts, and cause butterflies in the most stoic of girls. Riza, annoyingly, was not immune. "And yes, I am taking Hawkeye's class. And teaching his undergrads."
"So you're his new grad student?" Riza asked. She had to stop thinking about his smile, and the way his jeans hugged his - ahem. She could not think that her father's new grad student was attractive, that path led to a whole set of problems that she didn't even want to think about.
"He has that much of a reputation, does he?" He asked.
"I've heard stories." Riza said vaguely. Truthfully, she had lived through those stories, either herself or as a bystander to her father's difficulties. "I'm sure you'll be fine."
"I wish I shared your confidence." He admitted.
Riza hesitated for a moment, but there was something about him. Maybe it was how tired he looked, or maybe it was that he was attractive and Rebecca wasn't here to call her on it. "His early work can be a bit dense to read, he never used one word when he could use ten. I'd read the revised edition he put out last year." She said helpfully. "I have a spare copy around somewhere, if you want it."
"He told me to ignore that version."
"Because he likes being wordy, and likes to put his students through the ringer. Trust me. You want the latest version."
"How do you know this?"
"I hear a lot of chatter here."
Shit.
It wasn't really a lie. Riza did hear a lot of gossip. There was no reason to tell him that she knew that much because she had spent a year trying to help her father revise his book, or that she was his primary proofreader when it came to any work that he wanted to publish.
The was no reason to hide it either.
"Well. Thanks for the tip."
"You're welcome."
Ohgodohgod
Becca? What the fuck? It's 2am
Promise not to judge me?
You and Havoc finally slept together?
….
….
….
HOW DO YOU KNOW THESE THINGS?
If you wanted picking up, you'd have been nicer about it.
I guess. So. Not judging me?
No, I'm not judging you. I'd never judge you.
Really?
Yes. Really.
Oh. Okay.
Do you need me to pick you up?
Nah. I'm going to stay at his. Even if he just sleeps on a mattress on the floor. Boys are so gross. He has a PS4 and an XBox, but not a bed. What the fuck?
Boys are pretty gross, Becca. Just no making out behind the counter, the shop has enough of that from the actual undergrads.
Jean told me you walked in on a couple upstairs. Ew.
There are things burned into my brain that can never be unburned. Next time I'm sending you to clear out the randy teenagers.
Ewwwwwwww. Why me?
Because you text me at 2am.
So? You're awake. Why are you awake? OMG ARE YOU WITH A GUY?
No. I'm finishing off an essay.
Ugh. Boring.
Goodnight, Becca.
Night Riri.
Mr. Strong Coffee with his dark eyes, dark blue shirt, and swoon worthy smile (not that Riza was paying attention to any of those things) had ordered his coffee an hour before they were due to close, and Riza had left him alone to pour over his work. There was no proof that she'd glanced over in his direction once or twice, and even if there was, she'd already rationalised that there was no harm in looking at her father's grad student.
Right?
"Sorry, we're closing." Were the first non-serving words she'd spoken to him since he came in.
"What?" He asked. "Why does everything in this town close so early?"
"We're a small college town. I'm sure the bars'll be open" Riza shrugged. "Not from here, I take it?"
"Central." He admitted. "I came here because it has the best thermodynamics program in the country. But it's a lot quieter than I'm used to."
"You're used to noise?"
"I grew up in a bar."
Riza couldn't help herself, she laughed. The idea of her father's grad student. Mr. Strong Coffee And Beautiful Hands (not that she noticed, of course) having grown up in a bar tickled her. "A bar?"
"Yeah. I know how it sounds, but I did. My aunt owned it and we lived above it with some of the other girls." He explained. Although it just raised more questions than it answered, but Riza was used to answering those kind of questions herself and kept them to herself. "You?"
"Oh, I grew up about 30 minutes that way." She waved her hand in the vague direction of the home she still shared with her father. "Just me and my dad."
The same questions hung in the air, but Strong Coffee kept his to himself as well.
"Thanks for the tip about the book. I got a copy and you're right, it is easier." He swiftly changed the subject, as if he knew the difficulties of answering those awkward questions from the same personal experience she had.
"Glad I could help." Riza said.
"Well. I'll leave you to it. Thank you, again." He gathered his laptop and books and left Riza alone in the coffee shop. She was left with a longing to tell him more about her life, to give him the answers to the questions that had hung between them. Where was her mother? What about his parents? Why was she still here? Why did he want to follow her father's studies? It was more dangerous than noticing his long fingers, or the way his eyes lit up as all the pieces fell into place as he was studying.
She didn't even know his name.
She was so fucked.
Riza tried to push all thoughts of him out of her mind as she closed up. She cleaned tables, swept floors, cleaned coffee machines and counted the day's takings before she slipped out into the fading light and walked home.
The house that she'd grown up in was too big for just her and her father, it always had been. Her grandfather - before he'd been cut off by her father - had once told her that her parents had wanted lots of children. However, the illness that had eaten away at her mother shortly after Riza was born made sure that the house that was supposed to be filled with laughter and children, was instead filled with silence. The rooms that were supposed to be bedrooms were slowly turned into other things, studies, workshops and even a small library.
Her home was clean, but cold and empty. The lights were always off, apart from the ones illuminating her father's office and whatever room Riza was in. It had a distinctly unlived in feel, even though she had been there her entire life. Berthold was a demanding Professor, and a mostly absent father. Riza had been angry about it once, she'd seethed and hated him, until the hate had turned to pity, and the pity to understanding. Her mother had been cruelly ripped away from him too, and some hurts never went away.
She'd never spoken to Rebecca about it, all she'd said about her father was that the whole thing was complicated, and for once Rebecca hadn't pushed.
Riza found herself wanting to talk to Strong Coffee about it. Rebecca would've hated her father for his neglect, and Riza would love her for it. But she didn't want to hate her father, she just wanted someone to listen and understand. Maybe Strong Coffee wasn't that person, but there was a part of her that wanted to find out.
You were distracted all shift. What gives?
Nothing.
Really?
Really. Just tired.
Bullshit. Is this to do with the grumpy guy?
He's not grumpy.
Not with YOU. And I fucking knew it. Jean owes me ten bucks.
I didn't say it was to do with him.
Whatever. I know the truth.
Really?
Really. You're so weird. Why don't you just ask him out already?
I don't want to?
Bullshit.
I don't!
I've seen you staring at him all googly eyed.
I do not.
You do too. So why not just ask him out? (I noticed you avoided that one, btw).
He's my father's grad student.
Wow, Riri. You sure know how to pick them.
Shut up.
Nope. And don't sweat it, it just means he already knows your dad can be an asshole.
He works for my father, I'm not getting involved with that.
Okay.
Okay?
Sure, you won't make the first step. I get it.
Becca, whatever you're planning, unplan it.
Too late.
What do you mean?
Oh, he's here at the bar. I just gave him your number. You'll thank me later.
Rebecca?! What the heck?!
Fuck. What the fuck. That's what you meant.
I fucking hate you.
No you don't.
UGH. He's texting now. I hope you're happy.
:D
Coffee girl? Your friend is… intense.
Don't worry, I'm going to kill her. Painfully.
Coffee grinder?
I was thinking more traditional. I was just going to shoot her.
Isn't that fairly quick?
Depends where you shoot someone.
I suppose that's true.
Sorry. She just gets carried away sometimes. It drives me crazy.
I'm sure she means well?
You're only saying that because she's staring at you right now, isn't she?
I have to admit, it's a little creepy.
I'm really sorry. Becca's just. She has impulse control issues.
The complete lack of impulse control being the problem?
You have no idea. Again, I'm sorry she interrupted your evening.
It's not a problem. I don't mind talking to a pretty girl, even if her friend is hovering a little close.
I'll ask her to stop. Let me know if she keeps loitering.
She's backed off for now. So, what are you up to this evening?
Working on an essay.
You study?
English literature part-time. My father needs help with his work, and working at the coffee shop helps pay the bills.
So you know books and chemical thermodynamics?
Only Professor Hawkeye's work. I can't keep up with the rest of the field, it doesn't matter how often it's been explained, I find it difficult to wrap my head around.
That's still impressive. I don't know many people who can keep up with the man. He's brilliant but even I struggle to understand what he's going on about half the time.
He can be quite mercurial.
Or so I've heard.
Well, you've heard correct.
You just have to get used to his moods.
How do you know so much about him? And don't say gossip. No one gossips this much about him.
Don't freak out.
What, is he your father or something?
Yes. He is. I'm Riza Hawkeye.
Well. Shit. I've called my boss' daughter pretty. And there's evidence.
You've done it twice now.
Fuck.
Sorry.
Stop apologising. You're always apologising. I should apologise to you. I've put you in an awful position.
I'm not always - look. You haven't done anything other than sit in a coffee shop where I work.
And called you pretty.
Then stop doing that.
No.
No?
No. It's true. You are pretty. More than pretty. I think you're beautiful.
Oh
Oh?
Have you been drinking?
Only a little.
Go home, Mr. Strong Coffee. Sleep it off, and stop making mistakes you'll regret in the morning.
It's Roy. My name. Roy Mustang.
Then Mr. Mustang, take my advice.
Fine, fine, Miss. Hawkeye.
