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“Hey. That’s my name.”
Eren is horrified the minute he opens his mouth that he let that slip out. He is waiting in line at Target while the woman currently arguing with the cashier is waving coupons angrily, and Eren just had to turn to a total stranger in line in front of him to say that his name is on that guy’s Coke bottle. And now that he’s looking at it again and it’s not really his name, it’s spelled differently, but the guy cocks his head to the side. The dark roots of his hair are showing, matching his undercut
Squinting, he looks down at the drink in his hand.
“Isn’t Erin a girl’s name?” He smirks and Eren has never regretted anything as much as speaking to this asshole.
“Eren with an E, dick, I misread it.”
“Well, yeah, that is the letter it starts with.”
The line moves and this two toned gendered names douche puts the bottle on the conveyor belt. He’s also buying a Kanye West CD and a bottle of bleach, which, what the fuck is actually up with this guy. Though, Eren thinks as he shifts his box of Capri Sun, pack of 10 razors, and bag of plastic cups in his arms, setting a bottle of Coke on the edge of the belt, he doesn’t really have the moral high ground in terms of fucked up shopping.
He looks up and the guy in front of him is blanching, looking at the bottle. Eren reaches and turns it around.
“Your name’s Jean and you’re giving me shit?”
“It’s Zhawn, not Gene. I’m French, not a 50 year old woman.”
Eren barks a laugh at that and no, this he has never regretted anything as much as making this guy think he’s funny.
When he’s done checking out, Eren watches him walk out of the store as the cashier scans his stuff. He’s humming softly as he puts them into a bag.
“Jean didn’t give you a hard time, did he? I couldn’t really hear, but…”
Eren looks up at the cashier- he’s a guy about his age with close cropped hair and a face with too much expression on it. Again, Eren knows it is not his place to judge. His nametag reads “Connie- Sales Associate since PROBABLY FOREVER”.
“That’s such a fucking pretentious name,” Eren mutters, handing over his money.
Connie laughs, handing Eren is receipt. “Yeah, it is. Don’t let him give you shit, man. He’s just… Well. He’s an asshole, you know?” Eren grabs his bag and box of children’s juice, muttering a thanks. He walks out of the sliding doors into the muggy afternoon, cursing at the sun and air and why is he wearing jeans and long sleeves, like, come on, Eren.
Jean is leaned up against the side of the store, taking a swig of his drink. He raises an eyebrow at Eren.
“I’m not fucking sharing a Coke with you,” Eren hisses as he walks by.
“You know Mikasa, right?”
Eren stops, turning sharply to stare at him.
“I’ll see you later, Eren.”
Jean walks towards the parking lot, screwing the cap onto his soda. He leaves Eren standing there, gaping at nothing.
He really, really hopes Jean is wrong.