Chapter Text
Grease stained your white apron, meagre tips jangled in your pocket and fatigue began to set in. Staring out the window that spanned the entire length of your place of work, you sighed and wiped spilt coffee from the counter, silently cursing the drunk who'd caused the mess before stumbling out the front door. He hadn't even left the right amount of money, short by quite a bit and you fished coins out from your personal stash to make the registers tally up at the end of your shift.
When you'd come to this city four months ago, serving irritating people hot drinks and stodgy food in a shitty diner had most certainly not been high on your agenda. You weren't sure what to expect really, it wasn't as if you wholly came to chase your dreams, however surely a better existence was out there somewhere? Originally intending on finding employment in fashion, you kept sketches and ideas with you at all times in case some random exec from a high powered company just happened to take a fancy for deep fried potato products. Of course, that would never occur so instead you badgered them all pretty much daily by spamming their inboxes, scanned images of your dress designs attached to emails and probably deleted upon receipt.
At least you had a job, though. Many didn't and you simply went about it as a means for survival. Smoothing down the hideous yellow uniform skirt, you gazed around at those who remained at this ungodly hour, scanning for empty cups that needed refilling from one of the many constantly boiling pots. Two truckers sat in the corner nursing their caffeine fixes, exhausted faces gripped with an inimitable hooded look of the over-worked and under-paid. Shuffling out you stifled a yawn, body still not used to night shifts and with a false spring to your step, you greeted the pair using the standard jutted hip and expected drawl.
"You gents want some more coffee?"
"Sure thing, sugar lips." Smiling, you bit back the distaste and pretended to be wholly flattered, accepting this from them as they seemed to have it worse than you in terms of profession.
"There ya go." Topping up the offered mugs, you winked and shimmied off, giving them an eyeful to try and secure a decent tip. Hips swaying, you heard a mumble of appreciation from behind and smirked. So easy. Holding in a cough, your chest hitched slightly and the pang of regret ran through your being. It's just a cold, you told yourself. Nothing more. Pushing away the knowledge that it probably was actually much worse, you plastered a sympathetic look on and approached the sullen looking older woman a few booths down, her face stained with mascara and glitzy clothes dishevelled.
"Hey honey, get you anything?" Pain stared up into your (e/c) eyes, sorrow etched on her features as you poured despite receiving no request to do so.
"Oh thanks dear. I just…don't worry." Being that there was only one more patron to see to in the short round of the diner, you spared a moment and sat opposite, genuine concern coming from within. She looked so wretched that you couldn't help it. If this had been you, a small amount of company would've made all the difference.
"I'm listening if you want to talk?" A sniff was given and a small smile offered.
"It's ok. You don't want to hear about my troubles."
"Sure I do. What happened?" You had a pretty good idea already - two in the morning and dressed like that? Night out gone wrong. The woman began to explain, confirming your thoughts as she painted a picture of despair; alcohol fuelled arguments, exposed cheating and ultimately a break up. Patting her hand, you tried to reassure her that come the harsh light of day, her man would realise what he was missing and some kind of reconciliation could commence. "But if he's been seeing someone else, don't let that bastard get away with it too lightly, you hear? You're better than that." Having absolutely no idea what kind of person she was, the statement was nevertheless well received and you left her with a squeeze and promise of more warm drinks should she wish. Or, you could call a cab.
Making your way to the final customer, you thought how he was becoming a bit of a regular, taking the shadowy far table, one that gave a clear view of both the counter and door. From there, the whole place was visible. Before getting to the destination, you switched pots and brought another over, one which was ceramic and simply housed hot water. Picking up a small box, you took the items across.
"More for you, sweetheart?"
"Don't give me that sugary fucking drivel." Habit dictated the way you spoke in here and you put one fist on your waist, defiant yet playful stance in full flow.
"Aw, come on. I can get you some of our pie if you'd like? Fresh baked today?" A pair of silver eyes pinned you to the spot, the stare being one you'd been treated to almost every day over the past few weeks and it never failed to interest you. How someone could have colours that intense in their irises was amazing, puddles of grey, white and sometimes flecks of bright blue that shone impossibly. To say you had a bit of a thing for this guy was an understatement - he broke up the monotony, provided a breath of fresh air, even if he was decidedly offensive at times.
"Piss off. Just leave me the damn tea."
"You need to eat." Motherly tone in place, you set his water and leaves down, watching as he picked the small infuser from his inside pocket, black blazer always flawless, just like his pale skin. As the motions to brew his drink commenced, you slid into the booth uninvited but giving no shits. The wooden box of tea was not the usual thing to be found in a dive like this and neither was the man scooping dark powdery grounds out. He'd brought in the container last week, his grumbled orders to have it remain as odd as they were amusing; this person always paid for the refreshment despite having supplied it himself. In exchange for keeping the stash, you'd made a bargain - if it was the graveyard shift, he'd put up with your chats should you become bored. An agreement was reached, both committing to the demands.
The male who struck the deal had been much more smug that day, mischievous almost, but now he seemed to be in a full on sulk. Repeating your statement, you chided him for never having any food. "I said, you need to eat." Every time he sat here you made the same observation, his pallid if perfect flesh causing worry, inbuilt tendencies to alleviate people's stress shining through. Normally he'd make some comment about how shit the stuff was, however today he just stared, looking at you like you'd materialised out of thin air suddenly.
"What?"
"You look, well, sickly? Eat. Please. You have to." The answer you were given was most unexpected.
"No I don't." Sipping at his tea as if it was the most natural thing to say in the world, the deadpan delivery almost had you for a second but then you laughed.
"Yea whatever. Let me know if you change your mind, darling." Smiling sarcastically, you noted his own smirk at the blatantly false flirt and walked back to tidy some more, cloth in hand as you let another strained cough into your sleeve. As cups and plates were stacked, that steely glare looked over in something resembling confusion mixed with a troubled expression. You missed it, thoroughly engrossed in the clean up operation and you raised a fist to your chest, thumping to clear the crackles.
The man frowned. His reason for frequenting this shit hole seemed to have a problem, her demeanour changing each day along with a fading aura. Keeping to himself for so many years had removed his ability to know what to do in a social situation, all of those he came into contact with usually simply there to serve a purpose. But this female, this waitress - she was different and he didn't understand why.
By four in the morning it was time to leave and you grabbed your coat, sweeping it round to provide warmth. The people you'd served had gone, replaced by one new human that the next worker was tending to. Having a woman alone in somewhere like this was potentially dangerous, but no damage had ever befallen you. It was silly to imagine that just because nothing happened before, it wouldn't ever come but here you felt safe. Stepping out back, you grabbed a pack of smokes and lit one up, ignoring the way it made your lungs yearn to expel something - you'd pretty much surrendered to your fate anyway, so why not carry on?
"Those things will kill you." Jumping to the side, you cringed and laid eyes on the raven haired man who'd left half an hour previously, sneer on his lips as he reached out to take a cigarette from the still open carton.
"Fucking hell! Don't sneak up on me like that!" Shaking the match to extinguish the flame, he tossed it to the side and shrugged.
"I have a knack for it. Can't help myself."
"Well try! Shit! Nearly gave me a heart atta…" Shouting was a bad move, coughs taking you over and you bent, trying to calm the episode. Out of nowhere, a hand was placed on your back and rubbed gently in circles, trying to soothe the attack. Once composed, you straightened and looked over with a questioning stare. "What did you do that for?"
"I won't in future, then. Here. I forgot to leave a fucking tip." Pressing neatly folded notes into your pocket, the guy turned to leave, only to be stopped by a hold on his wrist.
"Sorry. Thank you. Hey? I don't even know your name?" Grey slits slowly came into view from behind a sheet of shining black and a sideways smile was offered.
"And I don't know yours. See you around." Releasing your grip, you watched as he disappeared into the dark morning, slipping away like he was floating. Strange. Dragging on the item between your fingers, the tightness on your chest had abated after getting the fit out of your system and you let out a small laugh at the bizarre exchange.
Home was within walking distance, a tiny ramshackle studio apartment which had little going for it, a place you tried to keep as neat and personal as possible. If life gives you lemons, as they said. Throwing your bag, shoes and coat down, you side-stepped past the bed to reach what passed as a kitchen and checked the fridge - pretty empty but you'd eaten at work. Taking out the last beer, you flopped to a small yet comfortable chair and took the weight off, unwinding slowly with your throbbing feet up on the mattress.
~~~~~~
By the time you'd woken, showered and dressed, it was around eleven and time to start harassing people again. Having no computer or laptop, you left home to visit the near by internet café, a cheap one which served even worse coffee than your diner did but it gave you somewhere to sit and send emails, check wanted ads and apply for jobs. Your routine was remarkably similar every day, haunts standard and it gave what you presumed would be a great way to stalk someone.
Entering the premises, you waved over at the man working today and made for a quiet corner, a place to be alone as you went cross-eyed staring at a screen. Not long after and a figure joined you, take-out coffee cup in hand with ticks all over it to denote how many extras were in there, a drink probably costing the same as a whole day's worth in here.
"Hey (F/N)! Any luck?"
"Not yet, Eren. Aren't you supposed to be getting your nose powdered round about now?" The brunette grinned and sat beside you, green eyes glinting in the glow of the computer.
"Not today. Doing a night shoot." You'd known him since high school, an overly enthusiastic guy a few years younger than you, but both had shared the same interest in fashion, you as the designer and him the model. Some questionable shots existed of your friend from a while back when he'd posed in one particular set of dresses you'd created. To be honest, he pulled it off pretty well, especially when combined with the nail colour and make up. But he now did more grown-up work; underwear, swimwear, adult themes. Anything he could have his body on show for, basically and why not? If you've got it, flaunt it.
Eren was constantly checking at his agency, keeping an ear to the ground for any appropriate jobs going for someone with your talents but nothing had materialised yet. He glanced over and saw the way you practically salivated at the smell of his beverage. "Here. You can have this one."
"Thanks Eren but I don't…"
"…need charity, I know. It's not. They put the wrong syrup in."
"So sloppy seconds?"
"Hey! Just take it, (F/N). Doing no good for my figure, anyway." Biting back another sarcastic comment, you smiled instead and thanked him, lips quivering over the stupidly delightful combination of vanilla and cream. "You know that offer still stands?"
"To live at yours? I know. I appreciate it but I have to fend for myself, does that make sense?"
"Totally. Remember I was the same a year ago before that big campaign?" You did remember. One weekend you'd visited before moving here yourself, crashing in his home that was smaller than your current one, a box of an apartment above a chinese take out place. The smell was horrific, putting you off noodles for a while but a few days later and he landed a major deal, one which involved modelling bondage gear - many new men in the field turned things like that down, not wanting it to come back one day and bite them on the ass but Eren made it his own, excelled and now ruled that whole part of the industry around here, probably elsewhere too.
"They were some pretty steamy pictures. Weren't you wearing just a ball gag in one?"
"Yup! Well placed thigh, bit of a tuck and I kept my little man from the public eye." Laughing at the simplicity, you both grinned and shared a rare moment of peace. If he wasn't off being snapped half-naked, you were asleep, working, or holed up in this café. "Look (F/N), you don't look too well. And I mean that with love, you understand?"
"Yea, with love." Elbowing him with good natured jabs, you tickled his ribs and got a string of addictive giggles in response. "But I'm fine."
"Is it bad again?"
"No, it's all good. Just a fucking cold, that's all." He didn't look convinced but left it alone, aware that you'd tell him when you were ready to. Eren loved the fact that despite the polarity in success between you both, his friend never had any bad feelings or jealousy, just unwavering support. "So you'd better stay away. Chains and red noses don't really go together."
"I'll probably end up with red butt cheeks by the sounds of it." Your raised brow was answered with a smirk. "Paddles."
"That's so cool! Don't get too carried away."
"I've got a good way of dealing with that, don't you worry."
"Eren, I'm not getting into the whole debate about mind over matter again! You want to pull one off before hand, go for it. But I don't wanna know!"
"Yea you do. It was your idea!" It had been, actually. Provided him a way to decrease the chance of any kind of arousal and you couldn't help but grin.
~~~~~~
Your day had been full of fun and laughter, a much needed diversion from reality with your companion, the one person you knew around here really. A few glances were passed towards the pair that walked around in the sunshine, some trying to figure out where they knew Eren from and then looking quickly away when they realised, all adding to the frivolity. But now that was gone, bleak night underway as you mopped the floor and reversed out from behind the counter, no customers to tend to right now. Or so you thought.