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"Hello, welcome to Café Maria!"
I don't even glance up from the espresso machine as I call out the usual greeting when I hear the sound of the bell. It's a Monday afternoon, meaning all the employees in the financial district are rushing in for their afternoon caffeine fix. I have six drinks already made, and four more in the queue as Armin is taking orders, one after another.
A crisp fall breeze bites into the back of my neck as the door jingles open and close again. God I hate the cold breeze when winter is approaching. I may normally have an abnormally high body temperature, but that doesn’t mean I enjoy cold winds.
"Eren, I need you to cover for Armin for a bit." I glance over to see Mikasa standing at the second espresso machine, her hands flying at a rate that could only be described as superhuman. "He needs to run to the back to accept the shipment delivery that just arrived. I got it here; can you go help him?"
I let out a long, dramatic sigh. I really hate taking orders, especially during this time of day. Every person coming in has to have a stupid, triple-something, non-fat, skinny, vegan drink with an extra pump of sugar free syrup or other. Like Jesus Christ, just go next door to Whole Foods and get a freaking smoothie or something!
"Eren, don't be a bitch, go take over for Armin," Mikasa orders. I turn to retort, but then I see the small smile she's wearing.
"Roger, boss." I walk over and tap Armin on the shoulder.
The line is a little shorter now, as most of the customers are now waiting for their drinks to be made. I take the next colossal order (a triple shot large caramel macchiato with two pumps sugar free syrup, no whip, skim milk and extra foam), and glance at the next customer in line.
The next guy is kind of short, his dark, black hair parted on the right, bangs falling over his eyes as he stares intently at the cell phone in his hand. He's wearing a freshly-pressed grey suit and slacks with a black shirt and light blue tie that contrasts fashionably against the dark background. Great. He definitely looks like the kind of asshole who has some extra-customized, pretentious drink.
"Hello, sir. What can I get for you?"
"Large coffee. Black."
Huh. My bad; should not be this quick to judge. "Room or sweetener?"
"No."
Luckily, because he just wants a black coffee, I'm able to step away from the counter to make it. I always enjoy making drip coffee. There's something satisfying about smelling freshly ground beans, pouring hot water over a filter and watching coffee slowly fill the glass basin below.
I pour the brew into a to-go cup and turn back to the counter, where the man is still staring at his phone. I still can't see his eyes, but his brows are furrowed so tightly they are practically connected in the center of his forehead (I resist the urge to poke at the point where they touch).
"Here's your coffee, sir. That'll be 2.95."
The man puts his phone down, pulls out his wallet and pulls out a five. "Here—"
He looks up and our eyes meet.
His mouth drops open, and his steel blue eyes, which had been narrowed in concentration, widen.
I'm not sure what to do. Do I know him? Maybe he's a repeat customer I've helped before or something. Probably not; I think I would remember eyes as piercing as his.
He's still staring at me, and now I can feel my face getting red.
I’m still gripping the five dollar bill, which he hasn't let go of, so I give it a little tug. "Sir?"
He finally blinks and closes his mouth. "Well fuck," he huffs and pulls the bill out from between my fingers. He cards his fingers through his hair, pushing his hair back and revealing an undercut. "Shit…Ok, so…damn it…"
I'm not sure what exactly is going on, but other customers and staring at us now, curious.
The man takes deep breath. "Has this happened to you before?"
"What?" His question is completely unexpected, and I look around the shop like an idiot, trying to figure out what event he's talking about. "I'm afraid I don't understand, sir."
His face breaks into a scowl, his brows snapping together with an almost audible 'click'. The motion darkens the shadows around his eyes, which surprisingly makes him look more dangerous than tired. "Oi, look back here. I'm talking about this!" He points his finger at me and then gestures between the two of us.
I'm at a loss. Was the man delusional because of his lack of caffeine? I don't put that past anyone; I've seen Mikasa de-caffeinated and one time she grabbed me and told me she was going to cut me out of a Titan.
"Um…I'm sorry, I don't follow."
The man rolls his eyes. "My God! You know, when someone sees your pretty face and just freezes and practically starts drooling on the counter? And it's so obvious that he's attracted to you?"
Now I know my face is red because -my GOD -the heat is causing my brain to short circuit. The entire store has gone quiet-everyone's attention is on us -and I hear a few girls in line giggle. The espresso machine has also stopped working, and I can't even bring myself to turn around to look at Mikasa.
Still flustered, I manage to get out the words, "Uh…no, not really?"
The man puts the five back into his wallet and pulls out a hundred dollar bill. He shoves the bill into my hand, which is still outstretched from when I had been trying to accept the five.
"Here. Now, I'm going to take my coffee and pretend I forgot my change so you'll have an excuse to follow me outside. If you come after me, then you agree to give me your number and let me take out out to dinner sometime this week. Otherwise, just put all the change in the tip jar."
And with that, he takes his coffee, turns, and leaves with a jingle of the bell.
…What just happened?
I don't think I have ever been so speechless in my life.
The next customer, a regular coffee enthusiast named Petra, steps up to the counter. "Oh my God, Eren. That was kind of rude…and kind of cheesily cute. Are you going to follow him?"
That bring my attention back to the hundred in my hands. Well crap.
I can't deny the man was insanely attractive (despite his height, there is something about his gaze that certainly captivates me). But seriously, who does stuff like this anymore?
That's right, who does cheesy, forward, honest gestures like this nowadays?
Petra's face splits into a grin. "I saw that switch flip. What are you waiting for?! Go after him before he gets too far!"
It's like I'm finally waking up as everything that has just transpired hits me. I scramble to grab the change. Without saying anything to Mikasa or Armin, I bolt towards the door.
"Wait!" Petra called out, drawing my attention back. "You need to write your number down!"
I grab a cardboard cup holder from the table by the doorway and scribble my number on it with a marker. "Thanks, Petra!"
I run outside, the crisp air nipping at my skin, awakening my brain even further. I see the distinct haircut and well-dressed form of the man, walking slowly down the sidewalk towards the financial tower.
"Excuse me!" I sprint toward the figure, waving my hand in the air. "Um, sir! Sir!"
He turns around, and I see his face break into a genuine smile.
I nearly trip and fall, so taken aback by the way the smile lights up the shadows under his eyes and seems to smooth the wrinkles that are etched between his brows. His cheeks are lightly dusted with pink, from the chilly breeze or residual embarrassment, I'm not sure. I skid to a stop before him.
"Um…you uh…" Come on brain, didn't you just wake up?! I clear my throat. "You forgot your change, sir." I hand him his change, folded into the cardboard with my number on it.
"Ah, silly me." He takes the money from my hands, his eyes never leaving my face. "Well I'll just have to think of some way to thank you then, Eren."
I blink. "How do you know my name?"
The man looks amused as he raises an eyebrow at me. "It's on your name tag?"
My face flares us for the umpteenth time that morning. "Oh, right. Uh…I don't know your name. You're not wearing a name tag."
'You're not wearing a name tag?!' Oh my god could I be more awkward?
The man chuckles, the sound smooth and low. "No, I suppose I'm not. My name is Levi. Levi Ackerman."
My god, even his name sounds nice.
"Wow, yeah…um…" God damn it why are words so hard right now?!
Levi chuckles again, and I think my face gets even hotter. "Are you always this articulate?"
"It's not every day someone says something like this to me at work!" I run my fingers through my hair, probably making it look like more of a mess than it already is. "Are you always this forward?"
"Yes." His smile turns into a smirk. Gone is the flustered man in the coffee shop who had been stumbling over his words. I can't say I dislike the change in the man, however. "So I'll cut to the chase. What nights are you free this week?"
"Uh…Tonight?" Wait, no, I meant to say Friday! Great now I probably sound like I'm desperate. Or just sad and alone.
"You eager little shit." Levi's still smirking despite his words. "Well then, Eren, I'll be done at 5, so why don't you meet me at the Tower at 5:30?"
"Okay." Jesus did my voice just squeak?
"You look like you're about to shit your pants. Don't worry, I don't bite. At least, not on the first date."
Ok, thank god there's a cool breeze blowing, or I think I might've passed out from overheating my face. "Right. I'll work on that. So…um…I'll see you at 5:30 then?"
"Sounds good. Don't be late."
"Yes, sir!" I can't help but grin when he raises an eyebrow to that.
"You know my name now, no need to resort to formalities." He crosses his arms, balancing the coffee precariously so it doesn't spill on his nice suit. "Although, there are definitely certain circumstances where I wouldn't mind being called 'sir.' Just not on a first date."
Jesus does this man have no filter? I have no idea how to respond, so I just stand there, gaping like a Magikarp.
"Well, my lunch break is over, so I need to get back to the office. I look forward to seeing you tonight, Eren." Levi gives me one more smile, and turns to continue his walk to the financial tower.
It's not until he disappears around the street corner that I finally come back to my senses. I hastily get out of the way of the bustling pedestrians and head back to the café. My heart is racing, and I don't think my face is ever going to return to a normal temperature. But for the first time ever, I’m thankful for the cold breeze, because I have a date tonight with Levi Ackerman, and God knows I’ll need all the help I can get.