Chapter Text
✎ ⋆¸*ೃ
! SPLAT !
It took Y/N a good minute before she could make out the pink blob on the floor, eyes squinting hard as she scolded herself for forgetting her glasses at the table. She had taken them off to 'rest' her eyes, but now she found herself wishing she never took it off.
The pink blob was a slice of strawberry cake.
And as she squinted her way up towards the wall that dropped the cake, her squinting eyes met another pair of blind eyes. A blonde mop of head and dark-rimmed glasses was all she could make out of the man in front of her.
✎ ⋆¸*ೃ
On the floor laid a poor slice of strawberry shortcake as Y/N took in the shape and form of this mysterious substance that splat flat right in front of her. Her hands went up to touch her shirt instinctively, to check if any icing of the cake had stained her white shirt.
To her dismay, a single strawberry covered in whipping cream had stuck right above her chest.
Great. On my white shirt.
She stood there frozen for a second, head running wild as it looked for ideas to remove the stain in the cafe's bathroom. Should she ask for hot water? That's what it says on the internet, right? Use hot water to remove a stain? Wait, would the cafe even give her a glass of hot water? Or did she have to pay for that too? Why even remove the stain in the cafe, why not wait till arriving home? Or--
Her train of thoughts were interrupted when the man in front of her sucked in his breath.
She looked up at the tall man, eyes squinting just as harshly as they did earlier, her eyes trying to formulate a face for the man she had taken away a cake from.
"My apologies, sir. I can pay for another slice of cake if you would allow me," she offered quite confidently. Matters like these could easily be solved when both parties agree on a single goal.
Bringing up her case would be the first step, explaining her mistake and misunderstanding. Usually the first step one takes in debate: gauging the motion and situation.
"I don't have my glasses on me right now, so i'm terribly sorry for bumping into you," she explains smoothly, feeling the texture of the creamy strawberry now stained on her shirt.
"Tch. I could tell from the way you were squinting." The blonde and tall guy answered bluntly. Y/N couldn't read the emotions in his eyes, but by the way he was staring down at her, quite literally(because of their height), she couldn't help but feel physically small in his presence.
Wow. Rude.
No, shut up, Y/N-- he's probably just pissed about his cake.
"Please let me buy you another one, i can pay for it if you'd just let me get my wallet and glasses," she motioned to the table in which Hinata was seated, eyes still lazily glued to the screen. Though she may be shorter than him, she knew she would still be able to talk things out in a civil manner, not letting her easy frustration get to her.
"Whatever. Just watch where you're going next time," he walked to the counter yet again to request for help and possibly, to order another slice of cake.
Y/N watched as the tall man walked in long short strides to the counter, her head cocking to the side in confusion. So was he going to let her buy another slice? Or was this all just a freak accident?
Her eye twitches in annoyance, but Y/N's catches her attitude before she could even start a scene.
"Well? Didn't you say you were gonna buy me another slice?" The annoying blonde spoke from the counter, the cashier clearly awkward with the tension the two strangers had started in the cafe.
She forces a smile on her face and sighs in relief as she jogs to her table, Hinata's legs almost tripping her over.
"Ow." The tangerine boy whines, his attention still not pried off the screen.
Jesus. I could be kidnapped and this guy would absolutely not give a fuck.
After retrieving her wallet and glasses, Y/N heads over to the counter to pay for the man's strawberry shortcake, fishing out paper bills out of her wallet. Damn, that slice of cake is expensive, Y/N thinks to herself as she checks the counter's screen.
Even though she wasn't looking at the man beside her, Y/N could feel him staring down at her.
Whether it was of annoyance or gratitude, she could not tell.
So Y/N decides to face her creeping uneasiness and looks up to the blonde man to joke about the strawberry cake, but as her eyes land on his face-- he was fortunately not staring at her, but rather at the menu of their shortcakes-- she realizes that he was not a man at all.
Just a really tall boy.
"I--" her words are now stuck in her throat, now weirded out by the joke she was going to make about shortcakes being expensive after she realizes that the man is actually a teenager.
Y/N was never really comfortable around her peers, thanks to her horrible experience with them in her past schools, and she'd very much prefers adults that she could sway with her smart words and paper-smooth charisma, but when it came to teenagers, it was a big no-no for her.
Teenagers could smell fear and fake charisma, break her apart only to put her back together with jokes she could easily relate to; kids are ruthless and merciless.
The blonde boy turns his head to the girl beside him, his empty eyes meeting her shocked ones. His eyes trailed lower down to the strawberry stain on her chest, and Y/N could feel his gaze on her chest, brows furrowing with both embarrassment and furious fluster.
"Uh," she clears her throat and the boy finally takes his eyes off her chest and looks into her eyes, emotionless as ever, not even fazed by the fact that he literally just stared at her chest.
"Strawberry short-cakes are quite expensive, huh?" she jokes light-heartedly, surprisingly not awkward with what just happened. Giving herself a mental pat on the back for her unwavering confidence, she points to the menu in which he looked at earlier, and pointing to the expensive prices on the board.
She chuckles to herself, adjusting her glasses and thanking the cashier for the receipt.
"The cakes they make here are good quality. The milk and flour they use come straight from Tokyo's best cheese factory." He stated bluntly.
Now Y/N feels like an idiot. Why did she even have to ask that stupid of a question?
"I bet. I mean for a price like that, they should," Y/N nods along a split second after those words left the boy's mouth. Bless her and her smart mind and quick words.
After that quick altercation and embarrassing failed joke, the boy who she bought a slice of strawberry cake for sat down and enjoyed his slice as Hinata and Y/N made their way out, only giving slight nods to each other as they both leave the cafe.
"Why'd we leave that quickly," whined Hinata, back slouched as he walked away from where they lounged around for the past hour, lower lip puffed out as he scratches his back for the fifteenth time since the quick minute they both left.
Y/N walked straight ahead, not even daring to look back in embarrassment just in case the blonde boy was still staring back at her.
She adjusted the sling of her bag to hide the strawberry stain on her shirt, Hinata's complaints going in one ear and out the other.
She was able to take a good look at the blond boy, and admittedly, she knew he was attractive, especially since he wore glasses. It was one of those moments where you meet somebody attractive for a quick second then forget about them the next day. The blond she had met earlier was just one of those faces.
But you're probably just attracted to the height, idiot. Y/N chastised herself.
It's the truth, though. Height plays a big factor when it comes to her palette-- somebody a little quiet and cold, preferably somebody smart with a good future and somebody who could keep up with her debates and sharp words-- oh, there it is.
She's thinking of boys again.
God, is this what it meant being a teenager? Y/N frowned to herself, Hinata's rant about the volleyball game earlier becoming background noise for her thoughts.
Does it always gotta be hormonal? Why can't she just think about the Belt and Road Initiative or arguments for legalization debates all the damn time? Why's it gotta be about her ideal type?
And to think one accidental meeting with a guy who she bought a cake for-- a stranger-- started all these thoughts.
Wait. Wasn't he looking at my boobs earlier? Blood rushed to her cheeks as she unconsciously crosses her arms over her chest.
I mean, at least i wore a bra.
"Oi. Are you even listening?" the tangerine boy jumped in front of her, causing Y/N to snap out of her thoughts, wide eyes fixated on her best friend, his words only catching up to her as quickly as they left her mind.
"Hmm?" she cocked her head to the side, wondering what ever could Hinata want this time.
"I was talking about that salty boy from the cafe earlier. Strawberry shortcake boy." He deadpanned.
"Eh. What about him?" Y/N's hand fall to her side, finally realizing how weird it was for her to be fanning over a guy she had just met.
(Though, honey, you're not really *fanning* over him. Just assessing. Lord somebody help this girl distinguish shit)
The two walked over to another mall, the afternoon high shining on high.
"Oh my god. Don't tell me you got the butterflies from that blondie earlier~" tangerine boy teases, fluttering his eyelids as Y/N stared into his soul.
"Don't even start, Shoyo."
✎ ⋆¸*ೃ
The day went on smoothly as both friends shared stories and moments, Hinata telling Y/N all about how he trained over the summer just so that he could go to Nationals and beat this boy who he had locked in on as his official rival, building up his muscle and mass just so he could beat that "Kageyama" in the court.
Y/N had told Hinata her progress with academics, letting him know all about the public speaking training she had gone through over the summer as well.
By the time the clock had hit 7:30, Hinata and Y/N had already settled in their homes, comfortable and cozy, both left alone with their thoughts.
Because no matter how close you are with your best friend, at the end of the day, you'll still only have yourself.
