By the time the two of you reach your favorite coffee shop on the other side of town, you've managed to start carving your way out of your self-imposed prison of formality. Kanaya makes you laugh a few times, and it's hard to stay poised while giggling like a lovestruck schoolgirl. Even better, though, a few of your own comments get through to her sense of humor, and you find that watching her own poised exterior devolve into giggles is quite possibly the cutest thing in the world. She bites her bottom lip when she laughs.

When you arrive, Kanaya slips out of her seat and around to your door before you can even process what's happening. She opens your door for you as you get out, and you huddle into your coat and grasp for conversation topics in the vain hope of dristracting her from how much that stupid act of chivalry makes you blush.

"Hey, how'd you get around the car so fast?"

She doesn't meet your eyes, but you can see the smirk playing at the edges of her mouth from your place next to her.

"I'm Quicker Than I Look."

"I see," you say. When you reach the building a moment later, you go out of your way to open the door for her before she can touch it. You can't tell whether she's blushing under the warm golden brown of her skin, but she laughs a little when you make a showy flourish to beckon her forward, and you can't ask for anything more.

Inside, you cut in front of her in line and order yourself a dark chocolate mocha. Then, before Kanaya can object, you politely tell the cashier that you'd like to "um, pay it forward, as it were," which Kanaya laughs at. She orders a black coffee with two shots of espresso, and you ignore the way your heart flutters when you pay for her. You have no reason to be getting excited about just returning a favor, but you really do feel like you're on a date. As things stand, the evening has already been more romantic than a good number of the dates you've been on.

Once your orders are served up at the counter, the two of you retreat to Kanaya's usual table at the back corner of the little shop. It's warm there away from the windows, and you drink in the sight of Kanaya's collarbones as she shrugs off her high-collared winter coat. You almost feel bad about the staring, but you catch her own eyes lingering around your neck, and dammit, you're allowed to think she's a little sexy. You hope she thinks the same of you.

"So, Might I Ask What's Keeping You In Town For Break?"

Shit. You look up to meet Kanaya's expectant eyes and pray to every black abyssal god you've never quite believed in that one of these days she's going to start a conversation while you're not lost in a mental spiral brought on by how fucking hot she is. Today, though—today is not that day.

Much to your chagrin, you have no choice but to choke out, "I'm sorry?"

Kanaya, to her credit, takes your faltering in stride.

"I Asked Why You Decided To Stay In The Dorms Between Terms."

"Oh." You sigh and shake your head. You were hoping not to have to talk about your home life so soon in this (friend? relation?)ship, but you suppose the topic is unavoidable. "I just like it here a lot, and things at home are a little bit… weird."

"Weird?"

You shrug. "My mom and I don't always get along, so it's much easier for me to relax here, even if it is a bit lonely. Instead of my going home, she's flying over here to visit for Christmas." That is quite enough family talk, so you decide to maneuver the conversation away from your own life.

"What about you?"

"Ah." Kanaya's smile falters a little as she sets down her coffee. Oops. "I'm Afraid I Don't Have Anywhere Else To ,Go" she says, and your heart begins the laborious process of twisting itself in half. "If I Do Have Any Living Family, I Have Certainly Not Been Made Aware Of It."

"I'm sorry," you say. "That's—"

"It's Quite Alright," she interrupts. "I Don't Mean To Cut You Off, But You Really Needn't Worry About Me."

Your breath catches you your throat as you watch Kanaya reach out across the table as she talks, her hand approaching yours and reaching out only to stop just short. She shifts her weight and relaxes her fingers, making the gesture look natural, but you're spiraling. It would be so easy to take her hand right now, and that motion was so close to an invitation. You know that if you tried, you could convince yourself it was one.

"I've Gotten Quite Good At Taking Care Of Myself Over The Years."

You look up to examine her face, your whole body still itching to reach out and take her hand. She's not looking at you, but rather at the expansive inch of air and tabletop that separates your fingers.

"Of Course," she tilts her head and looks up at you from beneath her eyelids, "That Isn't To Say That I Don't Appreciate A Friend."

You can't hold yourself back any longer. You let go of your coffee cup and let your hand slip down to the tabletop, its position strategically brushing against Kanaya's. She doesn't pull away, and so you shift to intertwine your fingertips ever so slightly.

"Well, I'm glad that I'm here to be a friend, then." If this is the fabled friend-zone, you don't know what all those boys are complaining about. You're in heaven.

"Indeed. I'm Grateful As Well." Kanaya reaches for her coffee with her free, non-dominant left hand, leaving her right touching yours. Score.

You linger for a minute, luxuriating in the feeling of intimacy, but it's not long before curiosity and the desire to hear her voice overwhelm those feelings.

"So, may I ask where you lived before attending school here."

"Of course." Kanaya smiles at you warmly, her hand still touching yours. "Though, I'm afraid it's a complicated answer."

"I don't mind complicated." In fact, you love complicated. Complicated means more time listening to her talk and more details about her life.

"When I Was Much Younger I Lived In The Middle East. Please Don't Ask What Country, Though. It Was A Long Time Ago, And Those Details Are So Difficult." She pauses, and you smile at her in what you hope comes off as a reassuring way. She continues, "After That, I Moved To France For A Period, And A Number Of Years After That, I Migrated To America. I Lived In New York At First, As Most Did, But I Moved Near Here Not Too Long After, All Things Considered."

Ah, that explains the untraceable accent.

"Goodness," you say. "That's a lot more interesting than most people's stories. Can you speak French or Arabic?"

Kanaya shakes her head. "I Suppose I'm What You Could Call Fluent In French, But I'm Afraid I Don't Know Any Modern Arabic. Time Has Such A Way Of Rendering Languages Difficult."

You smile. "I've been trying to learn a little French myself, but I'm afraid it's not going very well."

"Well, Perhaps I Could Tutor You."

Yes. Yes. You have never wanted anything in your life as much as you want to be tutored in French by Kanaya. French and Arabic are both beautiful languages, and you can already make out the music of them both in Kanaya's previously unidentifiable accent. You cannot even begin to imagine how hot it would be to listen to her speak French to you.

"Oui. I'd like that very much."

"Is That A Date, Then?"

You shift a bit, moving to take Kanaya's hand more fully in your own. She looks at you, her poised exterior cracking again as she grins and reveals her teeth, distinctive pointed canines and all. "Yes," you say, "I think it is."