Eren Yeager is waiting on his (very) tardy guest for the evening. He's seated alone at a table for two in one of the darker corners of the restaurant; a strategic move just in case he runs into someone he knows. It'd be challenging to have to introduce the people in his life to his date, because he doesn't date, and it's not as if he had met his prospective partner traditionally. He's only ever spoken to her in FANTASY.

FANTASY: the dating app on his phone.

Months ago, Armin convinced him that downloading it was a good idea.

His waitress checks on him for the third time, 'You sure you don't want a drink?'

Eren concedes because he looks pathetic otherwise, 'Actually, I could use one. I'll have a scotch and soda, please,' and she goes on her way to punch that in for him.

He checks his watch: 9:30. Either he's been stood up or little Miss Annie (as she's colloquially known, since she won't give him her last name) makes it a point to be half an hour late for all her appointments. Nah, she probably doesn't respect his time is all. So if she isn't here when his drink arrives, he's resolved to order something to-go and head home. He's been meaning to finish the leftover wine in his fridge anyway.

In a minute, his drink arrives.

'The bill, please,' he grumbles. Forget taking food home. The same waitress from earlier giggles.

He tosses his head back and downs the tall glass in a few smooth gulps, praying this'll get him buzzed ASAP so he won't be able to remember enough to feel embarrassed in hindsight. Ah, well this is what he gets for allowing himself to get sucked in by the allure of change in his mundane life. Miss Annie had seemed interesting, for she failed to be charming. A little bit unsettling when she went straight for his dick, but roping her into conversation was exciting— for the first time, it felt like he was speaking to someone who saw the world the way he did. It wasn't until he started speaking to her that he realised how lonely he had been.

None of that matters though, now that she's ghosted him.

He has that effect on people. Not usually with women he asks out, although he supposes there's a first for everything.

He reaches for his wallet in the back-pocket of his pants. His elbow nudges a human mass, to which 'Sorry,' is his automatic response, and a hand curls on his shoulder, crinkling the obsidian leather of his expensive bomber jacket. He looks up, keen to pick a fight with whoever it is, but he cools when he sees a familiar figure clad in an all-white suit.

She's shorter than he expected. Even in heels.

'Eren Yeager?' Annie sighs, casually bored, as if it were a Monday afternoon.

Huh. She was a lot sweeter back when they were sexting.

'Annie,' Eren returns tightly. What can only be interpreted as irritation fastens onto her features as she takes her seat across from him. She has a peculiar way of walking; sort of like a march with an elegant flair that marks her taste in curated femininity. She doesn't speak, continues to stare at him with a look that makes his brow twitch. The ensuing awkwardness coupled with Annie's unwillingness to do anything about it is making him angry, so he wonders aloud, 'Are you late on purpose?'

She frowns.

With a little emotion, she's not actually that scary. Might be because those eyes of hers are really nice. Not exactly friendly or sexy in that come hither sort of way, but her lashes are dark and long, casting bewitching, candlelit shadows on the crystalline sky of her irises.

Ah, fuck the metaphor. He's got a thing for blue eyes.

Annie notices him daydreaming about her. So she smirks, crosses her legs, leans back on her chair; rocks back and forth, the permafrost of her gaze not quite melting, but smouldering with a spark that has the whole of her glowing. She's a condescending one, yet he's grateful that he's piqued her interest. She'd scare the hell out of him if he met her in other circumstances.

'I got caught up,' she explains (it's a lie, he can tell), 'Sorry about that.'

He leans forward, 'You could've texted me.'

'Maybe I wanted to see if you'd wait.'

'Ah-hah, so it was on purpose.'

She drags her fingertips across her lips. It's a gesture that's as provocative as it is a direct challenge to him, despite their difference in size. Should have his blood boiling, but her taunting disposition is, to him, a novelty. She's a catch and she knows it. And though she's always been standoffish, even in writing, she gives him just enough attention for him to consider her a part of his day. He deduces that she's well-versed in a game he'd like to know the rules to, which may be why he just had to meet her.

What she sees in him, he has yet to discover.

He drums his fingers on the table, 'You'll just have to make it up to me, won't you?'

'Mm,' Annie fingers the glittering snowflake dangling from her choker, 'Yeah.'

'Great, because I can't finish a whole order by myself. Excuse me!' Eren shouts to an attractive waitress bussing two tables down to his left, 'We're gonna split the chicken.'

The woman laughs, says that she'll tell the kitchen to speed it up, and heads back to get his order ready.

Annie scoffs; uncrosses and recrosses her legs, taps her paper-thin heel on the ground. She makes this steady rhythm, akin to someone knocking on his front door, but her shoe manages to scrape the floor once in a while with this metallic hiss and that's annoying.

From his peripheral, Eren notices the fresh crack in her veneer and promptly snaps his attention back to her, 'What?'

She shakes her head. He prods further, to which she responds only with another obvious lie, 'I don't really like chicken.'

He looks genuinely disappointed by that. It'd be insulting if he wasn't so caring, 'Oh... sorry.'

'It's fine. I owe you, don't I?'

He laughs, 'Come on, it was a joke! OK, what do you wanna have instead?'

She hums in thought. Well, she doesn't want to have anything heavy because it's late and she doesn't want to bloat. She could have a salad, but then again, why eat anything at all if she's guaranteed to have her fill from what's coming? Because it'll upset him, and that could mean that he'll leave her out to dry, and this appointment will be for naught.

'Uh, hello?'

'I like sweet things,' Annie shrugs. Doesn't matter what she has, she's fucked either way and it won't hurt to stroke his ego, 'Whatever you recommend.'

'Oh. I'll take you somewhere else for dessert, if you want. This place isn't the best for stuff like that.'

She looks to the side, feigning disinterest. Take her somewhere else? How long is this pre-amble supposed to last, exactly?

Eren offers, 'They have good wine here.'

'No thanks.' a pause, and she goes: 'Shall we settle the payment now?'

'Oh, no. I got this.'

Annie's clears her throat, confused— but she does not seek clarification lest she offend him.

They go silent after that. She's certain that he's picked up on her antisocial personality by now, as anyone would. It's never been an issue. A lot of men prefer that, actually.

While most would take the opportunity to prattle on about whatever topic she doesn't care for, Eren asks her if she's tired. She shrugs no. He goes on his phone, citing work obligations, and makes no effort to draw her back into conversation. To the point that, when she actually does want to talk to him (he's got smouldering verdant eyes and big hands), she's at a loss on how to proceed. Maybe he doesn't want to talk to her either? One of those types.

Annie shifts in her seat. Maybe this is a mistake.

The food is soon set in front of them, already split; half a chicken for her, and the other for him. Comes with sides of wild rice and carrots. She pokes at the protein with a fork. The crispy skin might have been appetising on its own, but it's absolutely glistening with a disgustingly bright orange sauce. Smells like an actual orange too.

'What is this?'

'Time to find out,' he laughs, cuts himself a piece and chews without fear. Well, it can't be too bad if he likes it.

Annie takes a small bite.

'Abominable,' she mutters as she turns the bird over. It lands gracelessly on the mushy rice with a wet splat.

She hears Eren wheeze, sees him erupt in a fit of soundless giggles. He wipes the tears in his eyes.

Annie falters. She bows her head, attempting to conceal a losing battle against a smile threatening to form. She shouldn't be so rude; if his feedback is negative, her ranking could get bumped down. Somehow, she doesn't feel like he'd do that to her. And he wouldn't give a shit if she smiled right now.

She raises her head again, her hand covers her mouth— still, the laughter reaches her eyes and he grins back.

He's so nice. He makes her gut flutter. Annie wonders why such a man would book a night with her.

Eren raises his brows, 'If you like sweet things, I know a place you'll like.'

...

'Good?'

Annie nods. Doesn't give much after that as she's busy with her ice cream.

Pleased with her reaction, Eren turns back to the vendor poking his head out of food cart and orders a beer. No ice cream for him.

He then rejoins Annie, who's wandered to the protective fencing of the cliff overlooking the ocean. The moon is not full, nevertheless leaves bright stars on the thundering waves beneath them. It's romantic enough... If she's willing to ignore the fact that they're ahout 15 feet above sea level and she's balancing herself on the rock pavement with skinny stilettos.

Her legs look fabulous though, so no regrets.

Eren clears his throat, 'Let me know when you want to go,' and he takes a swig of his drink.

'Are you driving?'

'Ha... Don't worry. I can hold my liquor.'

'I see,' she doesn't seem satisfied with his answer, but doesn't make an issue out of it; he's appreciative of that. Several minutes go by without an utterance of a word between them. As she mulls over what to do, she laps up what's left of her dessert and throws the barren wafer into a nearby trash can. Eren does the same with his half-finished bottle.

Does he want to talk? She should talk, he might like that.

'The view is nice,' Annie offers, 'Do you come here often?'

'Yup. Every morning, for a run,' he points to the downhill trail along the seawall, 'And sometimes at night for a snack.'

'Hm. That is quite often.'

'Yeah, well—' he motions vaguely to the high-rise buildings behind them, 'I live around here.'

Annie nearly jumps out of her skin. Is that an opening?

The air is chilly, not unbearably so— she wagers that if they embraced, she'd heat up quickly, for a few reasons— and it's rare for her to be so organically attracted to a client (not that it hasn't happened before). She presumes they could head to his place, but why waste this moment, right here? He might be a regular around this area, but she's never been taken somewhere like this and she frankly has no one who would keep her company if she were to come back to this place. Surely he wouldn't mind indulging her a few more minutes?

Horribly unprofessional, but... He's clearly stronger than she is. He can give her this.

'Should we walk it?'

Eren startles, 'Huh? Now?' uneasy, he glances down at her feet, 'Are those comfy?'

'Sure.'

'Huh. Alright... I guess if you start hurting, I can just carry you.'

'Please don't.'

He sniggers, 'Don't complain, then.'

She's about to snap back, but the touch of his skin upon her wrist is mind-numbing. He caresses up her forearm, slipping underneath her sleeve but never going past the indecent halfway point of her elbow; it has her lashes fluttering ever so slightly and he worries that he shouldn't. But the moment feels right, so he ultimately takes her hand in his, fingers intertwining loosely with hers. She relaxes into his grip and, surprisingly, gives him a friendly squeeze. He throws her an inquisitive look, seeking elaboration which she does not give.

All he gets is a radiant half-smile. It's somehow satisfying.

For a long while, they walk the seawall just like that. Sometimes, he'll glance at her, and she never fails to notice, each time gearing herself up for a kiss or a hug or anything, really, to confirm that this is going well and the warmth she feels isn't just his glamour. Could she handle it, if he were to make a move on her? Even now she can't breathe, not well, with the undercurrent of his desire as his pointer traces lazy shapes on her palm.

There's a look in his eyes that burrows into her; moonlight bouncing off of the noisy waves and settling in the molten green sea of his gaze. She doesn't believe she's ever met someone with eyes like his, let alone someone who's looked (really looked) at her with them.

Bump, bump, bump, goes her rabbit-heart again.

'Are you cold?'

'No.'

'You're the worst liar I've ever met. Here,' he takes off his jacket and wraps it around her; he thinks it's cute that she practically disappears in it, and he tells her so.

'I look stupid,' Annie grunts— she's blushing, though.

The rest of their journey is spent once more in silence. Annie thinks about all that's transpired thus far.

Eren's profile stated that he's 27 years old: a year her junior.

Normally, men her age are eager to please, making it a point to beat their fists on their chests while swearing by their excellent pedigree using the same unoriginal blurb— I'm not like other guys, I'm a good guy. She's wise not to buy into a second of that facade. Remembering, always, that people are greedy and relationships transactional— no one to blame for it, it's just how the world works. At the very least, she's satisfied to find herself coming out of each engagement with something more than what the last man left her with.

She promises herself she won't get hurt, she just wants this experience inked into her heart.

'Why don't we head to your place?' Annie asks when they arrive back at the point they started at. She hasn't relinquished her grip on him. Neither has he, and he's not about to be the first to break the only real feel of her he's had all evening.

'Do you want to?'

Annie gives it a think; she smiles politely (but the reflection in her eyes tells a different story) 'It's what you want, remember?'

Eren cranes his neck back, 'Huh? I don't think that's how dates work.'

'This isn't a date. You know that.'

He squints, as if processing her words. Such a mysterious person, she is. Eventually, he concedes that he may never understand her and says, 'That settles it then,' Annie is looking at him expectantly (?), allowing him to muster the courage to ask, 'Can I kiss you goodbye?'

'...Mhmm.'

Her eyes dart to his mouth. Rather than lean in for her tongue, he brings her hand to his lips and kisses that instead; gently, like she's made of glass— makes her want to scream that he's paying her, and if he's going to be a gentleman about this, he has no business going on FANTASY.

Annie does her best to bite into the control she has left as to not give herself away, but those sad blues of hers flicker with the same brightness of the stars above them.

'Need a ride? I can drop you off, if you like. My car is—'

Annie snaps, 'No, thanks. I'll take a cab,' and withdraws her hand as if he's singed her.

'OK. Let's go get you one.'

He takes her hand again, second-nature to him maybe— Annie jolts at the contact, butterflies batting their wings furiously inside of her. It's like she's fifteen again, excited about boys and with her head in the wrong place. When did she last go on a date? A real one?

Blurred streetlights are slowly coming into perspective. Before they reach the main road, Annie murmurs, 'We didn't do any of the stuff we talked about.'

He flushes all the way to his nape, 'Yeah, w-well...' Annie waits cooly while he stumbles on his words. Good to know that she isn't the only one getting flustered between them, 'You don't seem like you want to.'

'... Does that displease you?'

'Don't be ridiculous. I didn't ask you out for that.'

Then what did you ask me out here for? but she doesn't inquire out loud for fear of losing this feeble connection they share (whatever it is).

Eren reassures her of his intact ego as the taxi he's waved down slows to a halt in front of them. He opens the door for her, breaking into a sunny smile that conceals how dejected he is inside.

(She wants to see him smile at her again)

Annie doesn't get in immediately, 'Your jacket—'

'Keep it,' he rubs her shoulders, slow with affection, 'It's cold. Don't want you getting sick.'

'But, I—'

The driver honks once, twice, three times. He then hooks his arm over the passenger's seat next to him and shoots the tiresome couple an impatient sneer. Annie digs her heel into the ground, firmly obstinate, until several more cars blare at her from the back; Annie slides into the backseat before she loses her ride, but she doesn't let Eren out of her sight. Her gut coils sickeningly as he waves farewell. She doesn't want this to be the last time, not yet.

The car starts moving. She scrambles to roll the window down.

'I'll give this back to you next time!' she calls, clutching his jacket while the fabric and her hair flail in the wind. She hopes that his shellshocked expression is a positive sign.

Thank you for reading this! I had a bunch of funky ideas for an Eren x Annie modern AU, and I committed to this storyline because it was really fun to write! I hope you enjoy it. Thank you so much for your time and interest!