foreverautumnblog:

Eren shifts, tugging at his collar for a moment before catching himself. He’s still not entirely used to this fancy getup, but it’s only natural when you’re working at a classy restaurant like this one.

He does his best to right his black vest before picking up the glass of water he needs to deliver to the man in the back corner. Eren totally isn’t nervous because the guy is attractive or anything, why would anyone think that? Wait, why is he even thinking it?

Eren scoffs, weaving through the tables with practiced finesse. Even if he isn’t used to these clothes, he’s good at making his way around in what his friends have described as a cat-like fashion, whatever that means.

The dark-haired man looks up as Eren approaches. His fingers tighten around the glass, breath caught in his throat in the most annoying of ways. Not attractive at all, he reminds himself.

Then the guy has the audacity to smile and reach out a hand, his forearm terribly tantalizing and visible with the way he’s rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt.

“Thanks,” he says, eyes still fixed to Eren’s.

Eren’s hips meet the corner of the table harshly, water sloshing out of the glass as he accidentally slams it down. Droplets seep into the cuff of the man’s rolled up sleeve, dot his forearm like he’s just stepped out from the shower and hasn’t dried off properly. No, that’s– what’s he thinking about again?

“Enjoy,” he blurts, darting away from the table while the man’s attention is still directed toward the mess Eren’s left behind. Once he gets back to the kitchen, he asks one of the waitresses to take some napkins to the guy’s table. She looks at him strangely but agrees.

Eren has just composed himself - he’s supposed to be acting like a professional, this is his job, okay - when the girl passes by, voice lowered. “He asked if the good-looking waiter was still taking care of him. I said yes.”

He barely keeps his fingers from tearing off the buttons of his collar this time.