Chapter Text
I sit up straight, covered in sweat and completely out of breath. I look around a bit lost. Shit! Where am I? I push away the black bed sheets that are on me and take a look around, trying to get a glimpse of the environment that I’m in. There’s a nightstand on the right, a window in front of me, a closet and bathroom on the left. I’m in… a bed? Oh right. My bed. Oh gosh what a nightmare. This seemed so realistic, why do I feel like crap so suddenly? It was just a nightmare. I get up and walk past the dark gray living room to enter the kitchen. I pour some water into the kettle and wait. I need some tea. I need to calm down.
After a moment, I pull myself away from the kitchen island and turn the kettle off, deciding to go take a shower instead. I walk back to my room and grab a towel. The bathroom floor is cold and I quickly undress myself to get in the hot shower. I let water drip down my back and place my hands on the pewter wall. All of a sudden, a sharp pain fills my head as I get flashes of showers with this guy, from that dream. I blush and tears stream down shortly after. It’s overwhelming. “Fuck! What the hell?” I say to myself as I let myself glide down the wall. After a while I realize that the flashbacks are over. Nothing else comes to my mind. Ten minutes later I get out of the shower and decide to go back to bed, ignoring those shitty dreams. After all, I have to be at work in about two hours so I should probably try and rest a bit more. The dark circles that permanently surround my eyes are proof that I don’t sleep enough. Thanks to nightmare and Insomnia. Surprisingly, as my head hits the pillow, I fall almost instantly back to sleep. Will I dream of this boy again? I’m not sure…
***
I put my blazer on and step outside. It’s early October but it’s really unusually cold. I let my steps guide me a bit further up the street. On the corner of 3rd and main, that’s where my tea shop is. Although, everyone goes there for coffee, not for tea. Lately, people have been coming less. Reason being, a Starbucks opened two streets away. At least I have some faithful customers. I don’t see why though. It’s not like I am being all that nice in general. Or perhaps it’s because I make good coffee and tea. That, I am sure of. I cross the street and look at my flickering shop sign. “Lev ’s”. Apparently the “i” is broken again. Wonderful. I shake my head as I unlock the door and turn the hanging cardboard piece to “open”. The gigantic glass windows let me see that the traffic becomes more dense on both streets as the minutes pass. I was lucky enough to find this spot a couple of years ago. It seems, every previous owners had problems but for me nothing bad ever happened. And I don’t intend on selling this place for a fucking stubborn “i”. I guess my shop is popular because there is a college right down the street, close to where my apartment is on 3rd avenue. Also, pretty much everyone passes on main to get to the highway so they often stop on their way.
I press the multiple buttons of my coffee machines. Start the dishwasher in the back, place some fresh muffins and cookies preparations in the oven. Then, once I’m done, I sit at the table beside my counter. Known as “the owner’s table”. Mostly because I always sit there with a book until someone walks in. Which takes only about 5 minutes this morning. What a shame, this chapter was getting good. I drop the book and walk behind the counter, putting the green apron over my black pants.
“I’d like a large vanilla latte.” The customer says.
“Sure. 3.15$ Please.”
She pays me and then I move on with her order. When I’m done, I see that a couple of people are in line so I pick up the speed. Eventually, only a few of them are left.
“Yes miss.” I say as a black-haired girl walks to the counter.
“Earl Grey. Black.”
I raise my eyebrows. Not at her expedited way of speech, but because it’s a rare choice for such a young person. I move away from the counter to prepare it. I turn back around to her and as I’m about to make her pay, I notice the guy beside her, who’s face is half hidden under his hair. He’s looking down at… his phone. Another stupid facebook addict. He does have something about his hair though. It’s been a while that I didn’t change mine. Always the same style with the undercut. I guess I like it that way, but his is… I don’t know.
“Hum.Hum.” The girl coughs, waiting for her change that I’m still holding mid-way between her and I.
I instantly give it back to her. The guy slightly glances at me and when I meet his bright green eyes I freeze. He looks exactly like the guy I dreamed of. Startled, I let the next paper cup fall on the counter.
“Excuse me!” I say, loud enough for him to hear me.
He doesn’t, so I walk out of my spot before they reach the door, gesturing to the other customers to wait a minute. When I reach them, I tug on his shirt.
“Excuse me, sir. Do I know you?” I ask as he takes off his earbuds to look at me.
He frowns.
“I…don’t think so. I would remember.”
Now what the fuck is that supposed to mean? My cheeks instantly blush and I hate it. What the fuck?
“I must have mistaken you for someone else.” I add as I turn around to walk back to the counter.
He nods with a smile and puts his earbuds back on as he walks out with the girl. I find myself staring at them to see if they are holding hands. They aren’t. But, his eyes meet mine once again, bringing up a crimson tint to my whole face. Why do I even care if they’d be holding hands, she wasn’t that pretty anyway. Or perhaps…I am envious of her, not of him? I shake my head as I reach the counter and try to distract myself with all the other orders but I can’t shake the thought out of my head. He did look exactly like that guy. How the fuck could I dream of this guy if I have never even seen him? And those dreams… When did I ever try anything with a guy? I would remember, if I did. But how could it make me feel so good when I dreamed about it. No. I can’t admit this to myself… Shut up, Levi! … But I did enjoy it in the dream. But that’s what it was: just a dream. Right?
“Ugh…” I mutter to myself, growing angrier by the minute.
I finish serving about 3 hours later when the morning rush is done. Only a few people are left sitting at the tables so I do the same and take place at mine. I pick up my book and start reading.
As I’m about to reach the end of my work day, after spending another rush hour at the register, I realize that I forgot to prepare another batch of muffins. So I head back to the kitchen, leaving a little bell on the counter in case any customer would walk in. I follow the recipe that I printed a couple of years ago and modified to my own taste. These sell A LOT so I guess that it was a win situation to choose to change the recipe.
The familiar sound of the bell echoes in the kitchen. I walk out, forgetting to take off my apron and gloves. When I glance at the counter I see that guy again. I place my palm on the towel that always lays on the counter.
“Vanilla latte. Please.”
“3.15$.”
I turn around, trying to pretend that his voice didn’t just provide a weird sensation down my belly, and prepare the coffee. Annoyed by the fact that these flashes keep coming back to me, I roll my eyes and sigh. I give him the steamy beverage and our fingers accidentally touch. A shock travels all over my body especially all the way up and down my spine. He seems to get tense too, perhaps he felt the same thing? We stare at each other for a silent moment. He blinks repeatedly.
“Thanks.” He says shyly, before heading to one of the tables close to the windows.
I stare at him for a while before heading back to the kitchen. I finish my preparation and put it in the freezer for tomorrow morning. Normally I’d sit back at my table but right now I feel like I should be cleaning. I grab my wet towel and disinfecting soap and start scrubbing the top of the tables. Eventually I find myself a table away from “THE GUY”. What the fuck am I doing?
“Are you sure we never met?” I ask, not taking my eyes off of the table that is beside his.
Then, I realize he is wearing his ear buds.
“Well… so much for being curious…” I mutter to myself.
What I didn’t know is that he heard.
“Curiosity can be good. And yes I am sure.” He says.
I move closer to him.
“Can I?” I ask as I gesture towards his empty cup.
“Sure! Could… I maybe have another one?” He asks with such a puppy face that it should be illegal to have such power with your eyes. Then again, I’m not one to talk. My eyes are a sharp weapon that I use in plenty of different situations.
“Of course.” I say.
I go back to the counter and prepare another one. When I bring it back to him, I realize that he’s drawing. Curious I lean in a bit over the table. He shoves the paper under a school book when he notices me.
“You draw?” I so stupidly ask.
He nods.
“Well. Can I see?”
God dammit why am I even doing this? Levi, just walk the fuck away back to your chair and book! I turn my feet in that direction, more than ready to comply with my authoritarian mind, but the boy grabs my wrist to stop me. Normally I would’ve been completely outraged by that, but for some reason, I didn’t mind. Especially because the same shock as before ran through me. He moves his book further on the table and I see the piece of paper. I am completely amazed. He drew a city. A city so detailed that it seems real.
“Surrounded by a wall? Why?”
“I don’t know.” He answers. “I just felt like it should be that way. That’s how I saw it in my head.”
As I look closer, something seems familiar about this drawing. I try to pick it up but he stops me.
“Hey! I never show my drawings to anyone. Don’t ask too much of me now.”
“Not even to your girlfriend?” I ask.
I don’t let it show but I am mortified and pretty sure that my soul is currently digging a hole in the corner of my head to try and disappear. What a fucking moron. I shake my head and close my eyes, tempted to face-palm myself.
“Girlfriend?” He asks, confused.
I open my eyes, surprised.
“The…black-haired girl?” I say through gritted teeth.
“EWE! DUDE, she is my sister.”
At this point, I’m almost tempted to laugh. What is wrong with me?
“Oh sorry. But you have to admit that you don’t look alike.” I mutter.
“She’s adopted.”
“Is that so?”
He nods and grabs his pen. I believe this is a sign that the conversation is over so I walk back to my table. I realize that I didn’t make him pay for the second cup. Fuck it.
Even though I try really hard, I cannot focus on my book. My eyes keep glancing up at this guy’s back. The guy… I didn’t even ask for his name. I shake my head and try to read the page once more. No luck. The shop will be closing soon. I always close at 9 on Mondays. First of all because there isn’t a lot of people, but also because it’s Monday. Who likes to work on Mondays? I catch myself spying on him again when he gets up and shoves his things in his backpack carelessly. I bring my eyes back down to my book until I hear the bells of the door ring. I’m a bit disappointed that he didn’t even say “bye”. But I guess, nobody does that? I mean…who walks in to Starbucks, orders something, and at the end of the evening says bye to the baristas? Why am I being so stupid. Shut up, brain!
That night, I go to bed early. Hoping that I could rest more and also secretly hoping that I would dream more.
***
The next morning, as I serve my usual customers and the ones that are rarely dropping by, my eyes are looking for him. I haven’t slept so much. At least not as much as I would’ve wanted to. I couldn’t stop thinking about that feeling, when we touched. It was the weirdest thing. As I think back on my evening and night, I do not realize who the next customer is until he is right in front of me.
“H-Hi!” I stutter.
Get yourself together you fucking idiot!
“Hey Levi!”
“Ugh…? How?”
“Well.. you’re the owner, aren’t you?” He asks.
Noticing how lost, or dumb, I am, he adds:
“The sign?”
I sigh, relieved. Although I wish he’d have a better story to tell. Something like: I found you on an old band video of yours on youtube and I had to find out where your coffee shop was because your voice is damn right perfect and I was hoping to hear you. Wait, what the fuck? I blink, trying to get out of my daydreaming. My fucking ridiculous and childish daydream.
“Oh!! Yes. I am. Vanilla Latte?” I ask, trying to maintain a straight face.
“Good memory you have there.”
I nod and hand him the coffee as he gives me the change. Unfortunately we do not touch this time. Would I have wanted that? I don’t even understand my own thoughts anymore.
“Thanks Levi.”
“No problem hum?”
“Oh…Eren. Sorry.”
My heart beats faster as I hear the name. It sounds familiar. Wasn’t this the name of the guy in the dream? But it can’t be possible. I certainly must have met him before if I dreamed of him. But where? My gaze follows him to the door. He’s probably going to school. That probably means he’ll come back later. And that he is young. Wait…Why am I thinking about that?
“Tch.” I mutter.
“What?” The next customer asks.
“Nothing.”
The day goes by very slowly and the usually soothing time I spend with my book is now less than pleasant. I look at the clock every few minutes, waiting for 8pm. That’s when he showed up yesterday. I’m pathetic. Eventually, I decide to go prepare the cookies and muffins for the next day. And as I expected, I hear the bell ring. My heart beats faster as I approach the door. I get out and nonchalantly take off my gloves as I pretend that I wasn’t expecting him. Sadly, it is…not him.
“Yes?” I ask to the blond guy. Who, somehow reminds me of a mushroom.
“Small mocha with two sugar cubes. Please.”
He pays me and I prepare his order. When I turn around, I almost drop everything because, Eren, the guy, is standing in line behind the blond one. I hand the cup to the customer. As he walks away, Eren turns around and stops him. I listen to their conversation, pretending to be annoyed at waiting for his order. To be honest, I kind of am.
“Hey! Do I know you?” Eren asks to the short blond boy.
“I don’t recall meeting you.” The blond answers. “I’m Armin, does that ring a bell?”
Eren frowns again.
“Not really. Sorry that I disturbed you then.”
Armin nods and walks away. Eren turns his attention back to the counter…or me. I wouldn’t know.
“Good evening Levi!”
I nod and smirk.
“I’ll take one of these sandwiches, a muffin and another vanilla latte, please.”
I nod, still unable to say a word, and I prepare his order. I let heavy breaths out of my mouth as he is facing my back. He can’t see how nervous I am. Why the fuck am I nervous in first place?
“You know…” He starts but stops talking instantly after.
I glance at him over my shoulder.
“Mhm?”
“Oh nevermind.” He says.
I turn around with his order all ready. Holding it hostage for the boy to say what he was about to say.
“No. You tell me what you were about to say.” I order.
He seems amused for a second and it makes me want to kick him in the face.
“Don’t take this the wrong way…”
Well if it starts like that... I can already feel a hole in my chest just with these little words. I assume there’s no way that I won’t take what’s next personally if he says that.
“You should do theme nights and stay open later on Friday and Saturday. Maybe think of selling beers too?”
I certainly wasn’t expecting that. I’m actually relieved.
“And why the hell would I do such a thing?” I ask, suddenly very curious as to why this is even a conversation that I am having.
“HEY! I told you not to take it personally.”
He hands me a 20 and takes his order back to the same table he took yesterday. I sigh and I can feel my patience running out. Fucking cry baby who can’t even stay in front of me for a second to let me reply. Was I even that rude? I walk up to his table.
“You forgot your change.” I say as I drop it on the table beside his books.
He’s obviously hiding some drawings again.
“I didn’t want my change back.” He says as he shoves it into his pocket.
“Well that wasn’t very clear, especially since the bowl for tips is beside the register.”
“Are you being an ass on purpose tonight?” He asks.
“Are you being so irritable on purpose, shitty Brat?”
He turns to me and stares straight into my eyes, making me inevitably blush as I feel the tension between us reaching a whole new level.
“What did you just say?” He asks, his gaze locked into mine.
“You’re getting irritated easily, it seems.”
“No, after that, you idiot!”
The familiar calling makes my skin itch. He’d need to be taught how to talk politely to other people, just maybe not by me, I’m not the best influence.
“Oi! Careful with your words, I’m not a 15 year old.”
“REPEAT WHAT YOU SAID!” He shouts.
A couple of customers turn around to look at us. I try and force a smile, which probably looks more creepy than anything else but they get back to their business. I turn my attention back to him and try to lock my eyes to his but my gaze keeps gliding back to those lips. So similar, so identical… to the ones of the boy that was wrapping them around me in the dream. I gasp.
“I called you a shitty brat. That's what you are. That’s all. Why is it so important?”
He stares at me and doesn’t say a word. After a while he blinks a couple of times and grabs a piece of paper to start drawing. I don’t even know why I ask, but I do:
“Are you going to show me some more of your works?”
“Are you going to listen to my suggestions?” He mutters.
I frown and roughly grab the chair beside him to sit, sign that I give up.
“You think some Brat who just barely hit puberty can tell me what would be good for my shop? Why do you even bother?”
He glares at me. A glare that says a lot. Either you listen or you fuck off. I smirk, noticing just how much this kid resembles me.
“Fine, I’ll listen, but there’s no way that I will do theme nights.” I say.
“Will you just hear me out!” He says with a grin.
I roll my eyes and fold my arms and legs.
“I’m all ears, impress me, Brat.”
“Don’t call me that.” He murmurs.
“The name suits you very well, so I might just keep it.”
“Fine Captain shitty attitude, I’ll find one for you too, you just wait.”
I can’t help but smirk.
“Oh and just so you know, I’m not 15, I’m 21.”
“You’re saying that because you want me to sell you beer. There’s no way you’re 21.”
He shakes his head and grins as he gets his driver’s license out. I grab it and look at it for a moment. Not even at his age, I really believe him but it doesn’t matter. What I’m staring at, is the photo. There’s not even a smile on his face and I still find him hot. Well apparently I’m going to have to face myself. I like this guy. I like A GUY. I give it back to him and he puts it back in his wallet.
“Satisfied?” He asks.
“Very.”
His cheeks are now clouded with a pink glow. Oh gosh, he’s blushing. My eyes widen. So I’m not actually dreaming this, he’s been flirting all along. And apparently, so have I. What’s gone through me? I have no idea but there’s no going back now it seems.