Chapter Text
Ymir hated her job. Every single aspect annoyed her in some way: the tips were shit, if existent at all; she wasn't allowed free coffee even as a minimum wage employee; and her manager was a homophobic piece of shit who tried to ever more creative ways to fire her.
But especially, she hated the customers. Something about everyone pissed her off: they were too quiet; they were overly loud; they were arrogant hipster losers; they were arrogant posh ladies who looked down their noses at her with far too much time on their hands.
There was, however, one highlight to her job as morning shift barista at Survey, generic coffee shop chain number 678. That pertained to the existence of the short, blonde girl who appeared permanently flustered and insanely adorable. Ymir felt her gay little heart squish with emotion just picturing her face. She came into the shop at 9:25 every day from Monday to Friday, and had been since what was commonly excepted as the beginning of the university term without missing a single day. Ymir hadn't actually had the chance to speak to her yet, having only just been trained to use the till without breaking it.
At 9:23 on a chilly Wednesday morning in November, Ymir leant her elbows on the counter-top, picking absently at a scab on her chin. Her co-worker Sasha flitted around behind her, humming what Ymir could've sworn were Disney tunes. (Not that Ymir would ever, even in a million years and on her deathbed, admit to knowing any Disney movies, let alone knowing them well enough to recognise their songs by hum.) The sharp scent of cleaning spray was beginning to overpower even the ingrained smell of burnt coffee beans, and Ymir turned to face Sasha, nose wrinkling in disgust.
"For fuc- For God's sake, Sasha, has Levi got you scrubbing the machine out again? What the fu- hell did you do this time?" she asked. Sasha groaned, throwing her hands up in the air in defeat.
"Apparently it wasn't clean enough from the last time I did it, but that's just his excuse. It's definitely because he caught me and Connie snogging in the kitchens again." Ymir raised an eyebrow, but didn't reply. Sasha stuck out her tongue and ducked back down to continue scrubbing to the coffee machine covered in soap.
Ymir glanced up at the clock hanging lopsided on the wall. 9:25 exactly.
The door to the cafe swung open, the bell chiming quietly and a draft of cold air sending goosebumps down Ymir's exposed forearms. She couldn't stop the grin spreading across her face at the sight of the blonde ponytail swinging side to side at the top of the girl's head, at the rainbow scarf wrapped around a pale neck and at the obnoxiously green duffle coat hanging to her knees.
Ymir straightened up, ignoring Sasha's giggles from behind her, and let her face settle into her usual smirk rather than the stupid love-struck expression she had been sporting beforehand.
When the girl approached the counter, Ymir quenched the sudden and overwhelming urge to swoon. How was one girl simultaneously this fucking... model-like, and yet so goddamned ordinary? At closer range, Ymir could see the strands of hair too short to fit into the ponytail curling at the tips onto her scarf, at the zit she was clearly trying to hide under her foundation and the dark circles under her eyes. Ymir internally smacked herself for being such an idiot over one set of blue eyes, Jesus fuck, and suppressed the urge to flip the bird at Sasha, who was still laughing from her position on the floor.
"Hey, welcome to Survey, what can I get you?" Ymir asked.
"I'll have a plain filter coffee, thanks." Ymir raised her eyebrows at the Goddess.
"You sure you don't want any milk or sugar or something with that? The filter stuff is pretty bitter on its own."
"Oh, no thank you," The Goddess laughed, and really, was Ymir supposed to be able to handle so much light and cute in one load? "I need the caffeine boost. Coursework, you know?"
Nodding sympathetically, Ymir ran up the total without breaking anything and watched with soft eyes as the Goddess took her horrible coffee and hunched down in one of the huge leather chairs at the back of the shop, dwarfed in comparison to its size. She spread out a veritable mountain of papers over the wooden table, and Ymir was more than aware that this behaviour was bordering on stalkerish, but she couldn't help herself. It was a slow morning, after all. Between serving the occasional customer, Ymir had fuck all to do except to watch the blonde glaring into her work.
Periodically, she would take a sip of her ridiculous coffee, wincing as she drank with pink lips pursed and button nose wrinkled.
It was almost 2 hours before she left and Ymir watched her leave with a pang in her squished heart. Sasha poked her in the back of the head with a wooden spoon when the door had slammed itself shut, bell rattling. Then she gestured with it to the empty tables with trays and cups scattered over them, still needing to be cleaned.
"I could report you for neglecting your job, you know." Sasha grinned, brandishing the spoon in front of her like a sword. Ymir rolled her eyes.
"You wouldn't, because then you'd have to find someone else to cover for you when you and Connie sneak off out the back."
"Fine, whatever loser," pouted Sasha, "Just go do your job."
Ymir hopped over the counter and grabbed the cleaning cloths from under it as she did so. It was a well practised maneuver.
When she finally reached the Goddess' table, which she had in no way been avoiding for the sake of her sanity, she noticed that the cup was half full of cold coffee.
"Maybe she forgot to drink it...?" Ymir wondered under her breath. A sing song "Hurry up, and quit over-thinking everything!" from Sasha yanked her out of her daydreaming.
***
The next day saw Ymir and Franz on the morning shift, and Ymir was almost, but not quite, wishing that Sasha was working instead. She didn't precisely dislike Franz, but his girlfriend was short and cute, and the young man never stopped talking about her new this, or her latest that. Not that she was jealous of him having a cute girlfriend or anything. No way.
At 9:25, it was Franz on the till when the Goddess turned up, duffle coat swapped for a grey hoodie, emblazoned with a rainbow motif.
Eyes wide, Ymir shooed him away from the till, a hastily muttered "I'll explain later, now just... go clean the tables or something." hushing his confused complaints.
The Goddess took a green earbud out of her ear, the tinny sound of electric guitars blaring from it, and said, "Small plain filter coffee, thanks.".
Ymir spared her the spiel from the previous day, instead just relaying the information to Franz. Just as the day before, the girl snuggled deep into the soft leather chairs at the back, reading through her mountain of papers and neglecting her coffee.
The pattern continued for the next week. The girl would enter the shop, wearing increasingly rainbow clothing and order the black coffee. She hadn't finished a cup yet, barely drinking past the halfway point.
It was the next Friday before the girl broke her pattern, by turning up at 11 with a friend. He was tall and built like - according to Sasha, who was whispering in Ymir's ear on tip-toes over her shoulder- a shit brick house on steroids. Dark hair was parted neatly and his skin was afflicted with the kind of huge, blotchy freckles covering everything that she had only ever seen on herself before.
The girl threw her head back in loud laughter as she walked through the door and smacked Brick-house's arm, smoothing her hair back down where he had ruffled the top of her head. Her bottom lip stuck out in a mock pout but her eyes never left the man's, and Ymir felt her heart sink. This must be a boyfriend, by the way they were so comfortable with each other, and those little touches, no matter that all those rainbows had made her think... Had given her the impression that...
They both approached the counter and despite the many besmirching, increasingly desperate glares Ymir threw at Sasha, she refused to come to her rescue.
"You traitor!" she hissed, before pasting a very fake smile across her lips. "Welcome to Survey, what can I getcha?"
The girl's eyes flickered over to where Sasha was sprinkling chocolate over some cream filled horror drink of epic sugar proportions, an action Ymir couldn't help but notice, then smiled softly, hypnotic eyes back on Ymir's.
"My usual, thanks."
Ymir smirked at the bemused expression on the most likely boyfriend's face and leant an elbow on the counter.
"One plain filter coffee, coming up. And for your... boyfriend?" She tried not to make the word a bitter question, she really tried. But the young man only laughed, whilst the girl flushed from the tips of her ears to her exposed collarbones.
"Ah, no, no, Christa's not my girlfriend," he spoke softly, with a strange smile playing at the corner of his lips. If he didn't look so fucking lovely, Ymir would've called it a smirk. "We're both far too gay for that. But I'd like a mocha, with extra marshmallows please."
Ymir didn't respond to his order at all, because the girl - Christa, he'd called her - was gay? Actually a lesbian?
Into girls?
Into girls... Like Ymir was?
Into girls... such as Ymir?
It took Sasha dropping a whole tray of metal spoons onto the floor to jolt her brain back into rational action.
"Um, yep, right. Mocha with extra marshmallows and a filter coffee. That'll be a bit longer than usual because of the mocha, so if one of you wants to wait at the other desk...?"
No, Ymir thought, that is most definitely a smirk.
The young man stepped backwards and threaded a hand through his hair, using the other to gesture towards one of the many empty tables, the time being too early for the lunch rush.
"I'll sit down if you don't mind, Christa, save us some seats, you know?” He winked, completely unsubtly, patting Christa on the back and throwing himself down into a chair. His posture was more than a little exaggerated, hands linked at the back of his hand and one ankle resting on the other knee – but whilst his smile was light, his eyes shone sly where they were trained on the two girls at the counter.
Ymir looked back at Christa with an incredulous expression.
“Is he always this...” she trailed off, and Christa grimaced in understanding.
“Obnoxious? Obvious? Shitheadish?” She spoke the last word louder than the others, obviously speaking more to the man than Ymir. His grin only widened, and he waved. Ymir felt a flush of heat pink her cheeks at the sound of those pretty, delicate lips spilling profanities like they were nothing.
“All of those work to be honest.” said Ymir.
Christa shook her head, leaning in to Ymir conspiratorially and lowering her voice, now trying not to let her friend overhear her.
“Marco was always a bit obvious about stuff, but he's got a lot worse since he met his boyfriend. I think the guy's been rubbing off on him.”
Ymir grinned leacherously.
“I should say they've been rubbing off on each other, eh?”
A little bit scandalised, Christa laughed despite her disgust, covering her breathless giggles with a dainty hand. Ymir noticed that each fingernail was painted a different, rather luminous colour. Her hand fell from her mouth before she spoke.
“Ew, no, I don't want to think about- ew! Dicks are not a thing I like to think about.”
Ymir knew she had to stop mentally fist pumping the air before she started to do it in real life. Instead, she just blew a lock of hair out of her face. Cool as a cucumber , Ymir thought to herself, you're so cool you're ice .
“So, the boyfriend's a bit of an arse, then?”
“Yes, I suppose he i-” Christa was interrupted by Sasha calling out, “A mocha with extra marshmallows and a filter coffee?”
Ymir murmured, “You had better get back to your friend.”
Taking a drink in each hand, Christa raised her coffee in the air and smiled again.
“Nice talking to you... Ymir, right? Sorry, your name tag is all smudged.”
“Tha- That's perfect, actually. You too, Christa.” Ymir could feel the stutter in her voice and the blush in her cheeks rising, but for once, couldn't care less about saving face.
When Christa sat down, the man ( Mark , Ymir thinks, or something like that .) unlaced his fingers, gave her a thumbs up and then said something Ymir couldn't hear over the rumbling of the machines behind her. Whatever it was, it embarrassed Christa, because she flushed up to the roots of her hair and socked Possibly Mark in the shoulder. He pouted in mock pain and-
Ymir needed to stop watching them like some sort of crazy stalker because someone was going to take note eventually and she did not want to have to explain herself to anyone. She spun around on one heel, busying herself with whatever she laid her hands on first (which happened to be a stack of mini chocolate muffins) to tidy up, pointedly not looking at the pair laughing in the corner of the cafe.
At Christa laughing.
She had thought that actually managing to maintain a human conversation with Christa would be the most shocking thing to happen to her that day. She'd calmed her racing nerves and told herself sternly that she could squeal and act as mushy as she wanted when she returned home. But she hadn't been counting on the insane wingman that was Possibly Mark.
It was common for Ymir to find a pound or so as a tip on the table when she tidied away the cups and plates. A couple of times, she'd even found a note, and had been euphoric all day.
But this was the first time she'd ever found a number as well as a handful of coins. Goddamn Possibly Mark (and she knew it was him, because why would Christa write about herself in third person) had tucked the business card under the half full cup of coffee Ymir had grown accustomed to seeing, and the few words scribbled in neat handwriting had shaken her down to her core.
She pulled up the chair that Christa had vacated (who had done so with a small wave to Ymir, serving customers at the till), not believing that her legs would work well enough for her to stand up in her daze.
Christa's too terrified to talk to you herself, so please make the first move. She does know I'm giving you this, in case you think it'd be creepy. :)
#0XXX XXX 0000
She flipped it over and absently recognised the name of the bakery the business card was advertising. Another note was scrawled in tiny letters along the bottom, but the handwriting was the same.
If you take her for coffee, get her something sweet yeah? She doesn't actually like black coffee, no matter how much she says she does.
Shoving her hand into her pocket, Ymir stood up with a loud screech of the chair legs across the stone floor. She didn't speak to anyone for the rest of her shift and hid at the back of the shop, cleaning all of the tables until they shined.
^^^
Sitting on her bed, surrounded by piles of blankets and the various wires leading to her various electronic devices, Ymir twirled the card over and over between her fingers. The eleven digits of what she desperately hoped was Christa's number were branded into her brain, flashing neon pink and 3 metres high in her mind's eye. Her phone laying idle in her lap seemed to burn through the thin material of her pajama bottoms to her skin. The blank screen taunted her even more than the empty text box and its constantly flashing cursor had done, because at least then Ymir had felt as if she was making some vague attempt at progress. Now, screen dark and clearly no-where close to texting Christa, she couldn't pretend that she wasn't a complete coward, terrified of basic social interaction.
It had been so long since her last girlfriend, a ballet dancer named Annie (who had turned out to be a raging psychopathic murderess, but Ymir didn't like to dwell on that fact for too long), that she'd begun to think she'd never end up with anyone at all. Her latest attempt to even casually hook up at a bar failed, when the girl who'd been flirting with her outrageously had turned around after an hour and introduced her boyfriend, then tried to initiate a threesome. Ymir had high-tailed it out of the bar, making several not-so-polite excuses.
The phone screen lighting up with a loud pingnotification startled her. She jumped, the card tumbling from her fingers and the phone sliding out of her lap when her leg twitched violently. She fumbled around for so long that the screen fell black again. Ymir swore, then opened the message with a frown.
From: Eren [Overly Excitable DJ Dude]
hey ymir sasha says you finally found yourself a new gf
From: Ymir
fuck off eren I have not
not yet at any rate
From: Eren [Overly Excitable DJ Dude]
yeaaaaaaah go get it girl
From: Ymir
thanks but no thanks for your help that was really useful
Ymir sighed. Eren's message had distracted her from her panicking and she steeled her nerves. He was right, damn him. She opened the new text option, tapping in the number she'd memorised one character at a time.
To: 0XXX XXX 000 [Christa Goddess]
so hey
your friend gave me your number and we both know why
he said you knew about all this so if you dont know please dont think im creepy its just that your friend is
but anyway
do you want to go get a drink sometime?
Slamming the send button before she could over think it, Ymir threw the phone back down onto the bed sheets. Hopefully Christa would ignore her rambling.
The hour crept by without any answer. Ymir's imagination turned up with a series of increasingly disastrous reasons as to why Christa wasn't replying: Possibly-Mark was taking the piss and had given her the wrong number; Christa just wasn't anywhere near her phone; Christa thought she was coming on far too strong and was ignoring her; she had been in an accident and couldn't text back from the hospital-
The ping of a notification chimed again, scaring Ymir witless.
From: Christa [Goddess]
hi :)
thanks, i'd love to grab a drink with you! Yes don't worry, I knew what marco was doing
have you got anywhere in mind? <3
From: Ymir
my friend works at Rose's if you dont mind going there
From: Christa [Goddess]
i'd love that! Xx it's so cute there
If Ymir flailed around on her bed squeaking and yessssing at that, then no-one ever had to know. She composed her next text laying on her back with her phone held above her head.
From: Ymir
when are you free?
From: Christa [Goddess]
tomorrow is good x are you working then?
From: Ymir
nah im good
meet me at two over at Rose's?
From: Christa [Goddess]
it's a date! Xxx <3
Ymir's heart was not going to be able to handle this girl – she was too cute for words.