Historia bites her lip in concentration.
Making drinks really isn't that hard, but lately it's been feeling like her focus has been shot to hell.
"You seem tired," Sasha comments, passing by with what has to be her fifth latte of the day.
"That's because I am," she mutters under her breath. She raises her voice, "That much caffeine can't be good for you, you know!"
She shakes her head when Sasha laughs, high-pitched and oh yeah, she's most definitely had too much, capping the drink and bringing it to the front counter.
"One large caramel cappuccino for Mina?"
She's in the midst of handing it off when she sees him.
Eren.
He's looking right at her and, for an instant, she freezes, mouth hanging open.
Why does he have to catch her eyes now, of all times?
What is he even doing here in the first place?
It takes an instant for her to regain her senses enough to realize that she's still holding on to Mina's drink. Embarrassed, she stutters out an apology and fumbles through handing the drink off and sending Mina away with a polite farewell.
Afterwards, she straightens herself out and tries to appear like she at least feels dignified.
"What do you want?" she asks.
Eren seems genuinely taken aback by her query.
"A drink?" he says. "Why? Am I supposed to want something else?"
"No." Historia's face is heating up again, so she ducks her chin to try and hide it, concentrating with all her might on the register directly in front of her. "Absolutely not. What kind of drink did you want?"
"Um…" His brow furrows and he pulls out his phone.
"You don't know your order?"
"It's not mine. I don't drink this stuff." He colors, maybe wondering if he's insulted her. "It's for Armin."
"Oh…" She considers this. "So he drinks this stuff."
Why is she stuttering out nonsense?
Who cares if Armin drinks this stuff or not?
Now it's her turn to blush.
Could she get any more awkward?
He probably thinks she's some kind of weirdo- not that that would make him any different from anyone else, because, well, she's not exactly Miss Popular anymore.
Her spiral into deep grief made her into something of a social pariah for the past two years.
"I'm sorry- I didn't mean to pry, I-!" She fumbles for something to save her dignity.
"No, it's fine." He grins, but still manages to make it look slightly awkward.
Historia's heart flip flops in her chest. She closes her hand into a fist to hide her fingers' trembling.
She doesn't understand the deal with her nerves. She doesn't understand how to deal with her feelings.
What is this?
Is it hormones?
Eren's attractive, yes, but she's… never thought of him like that.
He was always too much of a jock.
Too angry.
Too… too Eren for her to think of him like that.
What's changed?
Is it her?
"Historia?"
"Yes?" She blinks rapidly, jerking back to attention, and finds him staring at her.
His lips are stretched into a gentle, but teasing, smile. Surprisingly, it doesn't rankle her the way it should have. "You, ah, you looked like you were spacing out on me."
She swallows. "I do that sometimes."
"Yeah. I kinda noticed."
"Right. Sorry about that."
"Why?" He scrunches up his brow.
"I don't know. It was just a reflex, I guess."
"A reflex?"
"Yeah."
"The apology or…?"
"The apology," she says firmly. She's gripping the countertop now.
Eren's view is blocked by the register.
He can't possibly see how white her knuckles are.
"Okay, then." He turns to go, lifting one hand in a wave goodbye. "See you, Historia."
"Wait!" Historia steps after him, clutching at her shirt in a fit of anxiety. What if he says no?
He stops in his tracks, waiting for whatever it is she's called him back for.
Her heart is racing.
She could just let him go.
I'm sorry. I thought I had something to tell you. It must have slipped my mind.
It waver on the tip of her tongue.
Instead, she takes the plunge.
"Is there a time you're free?"
Once they're out in the open, she almost wants to take them back, but she knows she can't. Words can't be unspoken.
But Eren doesn't rebuff her or look at her like she's completely lost her mind.
A crinkle forms between his brows as his face softens. "Sure," he says. "Just text me a time and place."
A time and place.
The idea is sounding more and more appealing.
She slides her phone out of her pocket, unlocking it to send a quick text.
Friday? I get out of work at three.
She tries not to overthink it when he doesn't respond right away.
What is she expecting? That he'll just be spending every waking moment since he asked her, keeping tabs on his phone with baited breath?
Don't flatter yourself. She smirks, a little self-deprecatingly.
He has better things to do.
Her phone chimes. She fumbles for it, flushing when she realizes how eager she actually is.
The response is brief, but that doesn't dampen the feeling of warmth that spreads through her.
Great! I'll be there to pick you up.
She shoots back: See you then. Then, after a moment's consideration, adds: Did you have anything particular in mind?
The little dots indicating a response is being typed appear on her screen. They disappear. Then reappear.
Finally, the reply arrives. I was thinking it would be a surprise.
A surprise… The thought makes her surprisingly giddy without really understanding the reason why.
/
She's wrestling the garbage out the door, a heaping stack of black bags that threaten to spill out of the barrel she's wheeling, when Eren pulls up, leaning out the window and calling, "Do you need help with that?"
The smell of old coffee grinds hangs in the air- it's not the ideal romantic setting.
"No, I'm fine!" She probably reeks right now. The last thing she wants is for him to catch a whiff of that.
Why, why, why had she thought asking him to pick her up after work was a good idea?
Even with her change of clothes, she probably won't be able to completely dispel the stench.
Well… it's not like there's much she can do about it now.
It's not like coffee grounds are the worst thing a girl can smell like.