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It's as if doing them silly favors blooms the flowers on top of your head.
By morning, you'd start by including his plants whenever you water yours because he and his father seem too busy to do so. Whenever Erwin is out but his father is home, you’d knock at the door with a Tupperware of some meal you prepared. The old man will ask you to eat it with him but you'll deny and say that you're just on your work break—a thoughtful lie, perhaps, as you don't trust yourself not to hyperventilate with the knowledge that you're inside his giant handsome son's territory.
When you're finally off your shift, you'd sweep around the neighborhood then include his home while you're at it—all the while hoping that you'd be back inside before Erwin passes by. Despite the overwhelming infatuation, you don't want to be seen and make your feelings known.
Because what if he's actually a jerk? What if he's married? What if he's actually a dad, which wouldn't be too far-fetched because—
The doorbell rings.
—because of how buff and mature and fine he actually looks? What if he deems me as someone creepy trying to make my way to him through his poor old man?
Alongside is a voice calling your name.
What if I'm already obsessed with him that my deepest darkest desires could seep out without even talking? See, see, my mind is even imagining him knocking at my doorstep right now!
The doorbell rings and your name is called again, "Are you there?"
It was all but imagination. He is here!
Clearing your throat and trying to tone down the thrill in your nerves, you slowly open the door with head peaking, "Oh hi, Erwin… Mr. Smith's son, right? How may I help you?"
He's wearing his usual suit—not quite sure but he seems to be working in some university—and the Tupperware you gave his father is on his hands. "I heard you've been a great help to my dad lately," a welcoming genuine smile plastered despite a tad tired demeanor.
You'll never wash this piece of plastic again.
"Don't sweat it. It's just that I always end up cooking too much. I'm not used to living all by myself yet," you open the door wider to receive the Tupperware, "I'm glad your father likes my food, though! And I hope I'm not much of a bother."
"If anything, we're the ones bothering you. You're the one new in this town and yet—"
"Oh, no! Please don't think that way. I just don't have too much to do since I work from home and—" then you realized, "oh my god wait I'm so sorry am I bothering you guys by watering your plants every morning?"
He shakes his head with a reluctant chuckle, "In fact, the tomatoes harvested really well because of you," then gives you a plastic bag full of it, "would you mind?"
Goodness gracious, these tomatoes are going to be framed on the wall.
"Framed? Why?"
Oh fuck.
"I-I mean, my silly morning routine bore fruits, who wouldn't be grateful?"
"You also end up segregating the trash of the whole block. You'll become the neighborhood's hero at this point."
It was intentional; no one would notice my infatuation that way.
"Sorry, I'm just a bit too bored." Scared that your facade will slip if this talk ensues further, you excuse yourself. "I have some chores to do now. Thank you, Erwin! Please have some rest too."
Much to your confusion, he didn't gesture to leave yet. "So, you wouldn't be available if we ask you to eat dinner with us?"
"No," oh my god, why did I say no? How do I take that back? How do I take that back— "I think I'll knock at your father one of these days to tell him my availability. Would that be fine?"
"Okay. Hope to hear from you soon, then."
When the door finally closed, your knees gave up and you propelled a squeal while covering your mouth.
It is until you heard him laugh weakly outside that you realized you shouldn't have done that. Perhaps you should've covered your mouth more, or was aware beforehand that he seems to be sharp with your cues. Oh, no. You really might be terribly obsessed with him that your fluster slipped that easily.
Due to embarassment, you scheduled the watering routine way earlier; maybe that'd lower the chances of bumping into him.
This breezy calming daybreak, however, while tiptoeing around fences to sprinkle his precious leaves with water, your solace got terribly rattled.
It’s him, seated on a bench with a cup of coffee in his hand. Despite the cold breeze, he is wearing a white shirt too fit for his body. As if you're not flustered enough, you figured the sight of his broad arms would cause your death.
"Why are you so cautious in watering our plants?"
"Since when have you been there?"
Both questions were asked at the same time so he initiated to answer, "An hour ago. I actually went out first before you." he doesn’t seem repulsed, though. If anything he’s trying to hide a sneer.
Okay, to put it simply;
He saw the way you cautiously turned your head all over the surroundings before stepping out of the door. He was watching as you stared at his plants for five minutes with a fond smile. He was listening while you were singing and grooving and sweeping across your garden.
You silently covered your mouth in realization, too taken aback to even process the shame.
But before it could intimidate you, Erwin offered a cup. "I am just about to call you for this coffee but watching you tiptoe towards me got a bit too amusing."
"Oh my god," you shot him a truly horrifying look. "How would I fight the urge to run back into my house with tears when you say it that way?"
"The poor coffee will get cold. Would that help you fight the urge?"
"Oh my god," you realized it again. "You made that for me?"
"I'm actually quite nervous that you don't drink coffee. Do you?"
"I do!" Even if you don't, you will!
He casually reached for your hand to let you hold the cup yourself; the slight contact sent a tremendous jolt all over your body. You were ushered to their garden table afterward but before sitting down he remarked, "You didn't knock to tell my father about your availability."
"I forgot." you lied, "It's been how many days since then? Three? I'm so sorry."
"He said your schedule of watering plants is around six in the morning. You've been an hour early since then.”
"C-change of routine?"
He hummed in acknowledgment and teased further, "Have you finally figured out the amount of food to cook every lunch, though?"
Well, you stopped knocking at their door to bring his father excess dishes. However, "How did you know that much? Where were you the past few days?"
"I'm working at home for a while. I'm kinda looking forward to your lunch meals, though. My father loves it more than my cooking."
"I'm cooking steak for lunch today!" you blurted out. Oh god, that was supposed to be cooked this weekend! "Want some? I can bring a Tupperware to—" He shook his head no. "Oh... okay.”
"We'll cook it together this dinner," he sipped his coffee, "We'll help you."
I'll die of a heart attack.
"Don't worry, I'll cool down the house for you."
Not only did he hear you again, but he also knew damn well what it was about. Like earlier, he riled your fluster up instead of consolation, "Fight the urge to run back with tears now, though. Not until you finished that coffee."