Chapter Text
It was 90 degrees in the middle of summer, and you wanted more than anything to rot in bed at home on your day off.
Your “grocery” list was short enough, and you’d taken a hit from your cart as soon as you parked. You were planning to take your time inside so you could sober up enough to drive safely back home when the trip was done. Almond milk, green tea, face wash, pasta and pasta sauce. Simple.
You didn’t look very nice today, it wasn’t the kind of store where you’d get stared at for not trying. You wore hideous but comfortable shoes, a baggy shirt to hide that you didn’t want to wear a bra—with no makeup, shorts, a tote over your shoulder, and hair that desperately needed to be washed. You wondered if the tote bag was a bad choice, in case they’d think you were stealing. Oh god.
You would probably notice if someone started following you. It’s not like you were going to steal anyway, but isn’t it about seeming like a normal person, not acting suspicious?
Okay, you needed to rein these thoughts in. You can’t let yourself think like this, like a paranoid freak.
You almost didn’t go out today, nearly willing to pay an extra $20 in fees for your tiny grocery order to be delivered to the apartment, but you couldn’t afford it. You’d get good tips tomorrow at work, but you needed things today. It was probably better to make yourself do the things you didn’t want to do. If you rotted too long you’d be stuck in the depths of your misery for a long time.
You’d taken a shaky breath and grabbed a basket. You didn’t know there were baskets for this store, you only ever saw people pushing carts. It was a dumb thought, but you really never noticed before. You weren’t sure where to go first, and just headed for the first thing you could think of—green tea.
You hated doing errands alone, it always filled you with dread. Your roommate Sasha was out of state for a summer job and you’ve been technically living by yourself for almost three weeks now. It was lonely, even though you’d call sometimes. You missed being able to relax around her, allowing for her earnest jokes about your silly anxieties to quell you.
You tried to look normal as you circled the beverage section multiple times, lost in thought, struggling to find the teas before finally stopping in an aisle full of coffee. Surely they would be in the same place.
You walked through, reading labels, and hoped that you weren't in someone’s way. You found the tea boxes—chamomile, black tea, jasmine, organic matcha, jasmine matcha… All so expensive, and what if they weren’t good?
Your craving was so bad today you’d gotten an iced matcha from the cafe you worked at, just to make the walk through the grocery store a little more fun. You were glad you did, the weed and the heat combined made you thirsty.
You winced as you saw someone in your peripheral. Breathe. Just another shopper.
Why’d they put paper towels and paper plates in the same aisle as the tea and coffee?
You couldn’t remember if you applied deodorant before you left the house. You let yourself glance at him briefly. A man, wearing a bright neon shirt and work boots. Could he smell you? Oh my god, did you stink? You were sweating so bad, it was so hot.
You took a deep breath and held it, counting to four in your head before exhaling softly. You repeated the technique and redirected yourself to the tea.
You didn’t have much money today after paying off the bills, and buying a $6 matcha (after employee discount) didn’t help either. Hm.
You swallowed when another man entered the aisle and walked right behind you. You tensed up at the blur of gray and tried to focus again.
Organic green tea, green tea with lemon, decaf green tea… Green tea.
You tossed the box into your basket and turn the other way, further from the two other men in the aisle, frowning when you see a mother and two kids pushing a cart slowly towards you. Fine. You turn again and stalk down the aisle and towards the milk.
You nearly ran into someone and mumbled an “excuse me” when you spotted the fridges. Your heart pounded in your ears.
Were you holding your basket weird?
The rest of the grocery trip was like this, slow and torturous, occasional missteps as you navigated the aisles and awkwardly apologized for taking up other peoples’ space. The back of your neck prickled and your anxiety wouldn’t let up the whole time.
You made your way to the skincare and grabbed the brand of face cleanser you like. You found a trash can to toss your empty matcha cup—so so worth it—and lingered by the makeup and nail polish, wishing you could make an unplanned purchase. You wanted something glittery.
You managed to calm down a little more by the time you’d rounded up everything you wanted. You dared to try a new kind of pasta sauce. You were glad you went out today. It wasn’t all bad, you supposed.
It was the first time Eren ever spotted you.
Long before you’d made the hike back to your car, one bag of groceries in your hand while the other fumbled for your keys, and even before he blocked your way by “accident” near the milk fridge, Eren was in his car in the parking lot, AC blasting, when you’d caught his eye. He hadn’t gone inside yet, and he had planned to people watch today.
You parked next to him, the thudding bass of your music catching his attention, at first with annoyance.
He watched you try to fix your hair in the mirror, and you frowned at your reflection. You had a beaded bracelet and a little charm keychain hanging from your rearview mirror. There was a small plushy on your dashboard, and Eren almost smiled– cute. You took a long hit from a pen, and a deep breath before you opened your car door and stepped out.
His eyes grazed your body and it was like everything clicked. The flush of your cheeks in the heat, the way those shorts hugged your thighs and hips. Your eyebrows were pinched and you bit your lip anxiously as you rummaged for something in your purse. Your eyes were glassy and low, and he was captivated.
How lucky he was to see you, and linger a few feet behind you as you went inside. He was curious.
He had to walk past you when you lingered by the baskets, looking at them intently, and he wished he knew what you were thinking when you stared at them. He paused to look at some display a few feet away when you finally picked one up and started moving, sipping at a green drink in your hand.
Eren would never shop here. It was cheap and low quality, and he wondered about the kind of situation you were in. Poor thing. He had picked the store at random after driving around for so long, stuck in a rut, stuck in his head, for these past few months. He hadn’t been in love in so long.
You lingered so long in the green tea aisle, lost in thought. He couldn’t stop staring at your lips, the way they puckered around the straw of your drink, the curve of your neck, how you swallowed.
He let himself stride behind you, walking towards some paper towels that another man in the aisle was looking over as well. Eren almost groaned at the smell of you as he passed, faint hints of perfume intermingling with your subtle musk from the summer heat.
He pushed ahead into the meat section, watching you from another angle a bit further away. There was an abandoned cart in the aisle and he grabbed it, picking a few random things to fill it, when he saw you make your way to the milk fridge.
You had turned around at the last minute after nearly running into some poor elderly couple because you were staring at the ground as you walked. Who does that?
Why did you do that? You were so beautiful, what was there to be ashamed about when you were just walking?
You flushed with embarrassment and stopped on the side of the walkway, blinking in a daze before you had kept going.
He almost darted for the milk fridge, getting there before you did, and parked himself right in front of it. He tried to look like he was deciding between all the options of milk as he gazed at you through the reflection of the glass. You were sizing him up nervously, occasionally glancing at the phone in your hand.
Were you texting someone? No, you were just looking at it, your thumb didn’t move. Like you were trying to pretend to be busy while you waited for him. Really cute. His lips curled into a smile and he started to walk away, at the last minute going the other direction just to catch you off guard.
You’d look up at him in surprise, chewing your lip again before you looked away, and Eren knew he wanted you.
He’d never seen someone so nervous at nothing before, and be so ridiculously tempting. How dare you exist so skittishly when you practically flaunted yourself for everyone to see? How could he be expected to control himself with the way sweat ran down your neck, the way your tits jiggled under your shirt? You didn’t wear a bra. It’s like you were asking it for it, all the while being so coquettishly wrapped up in your own little world.
He burned to know what you were thinking, why you had such a short shopping list, how your mouth would feel around him. It was in his nature, and your best interest.
You spent twenty minutes sitting in your car in the grocery store parking lot trying to sober up. You scrolled through your phone, chewing your nails nervously and occasionally taking note of the cars around you.
Would anyone say something to the store employees if you were lingering around here for too long? The car next to you, in front of you, and a few cars away all had people inside them. It was hot, everyone was probably cooling off or waiting for someone else who had gone inside. Nobody was going to crucify you for lingering just a little bit.
You took another deep breath. You missed your matcha and swore to yourself you’d make one as soon as you walked into work tomorrow.
Eren followed you when you drove home. Your car, which he’d already memorized the model of, approached a residential neighborhood, a collection of houses and apartments. He prepared to make a different turn in case your pretty little head started giving you any paranoid thoughts.
Eren figured you’d be the type of girl that would notice if a car was following her. He was also sure that you were the type of girl that wouldn’t remember the vehicle a few hours later.
After making a mental note of the street, he decided to come back at dark and search for your parked car so he could figure out exactly where you lived. It would only take a few days to take full surveillance of you, nothing he couldn’t handle.
He drove off and went home.
Eren put away his randomly picked groceries, along with your brand of face wash, and the cup you had thrown away. He smiled at his little find.
You had liked your drink enough to finish it in ten minutes–maybe you were a regular there. He turned the plastic cup to see writing in black sharpie with your order and your name.
Lav matcha almond light ice, y/n!
There were hearts and stars drawn around your name, with a smiley face. Eren frowned. The handwriting looked feminine, so unless he was very unlucky, he hoped a friend made your drink today.
Eren sank into his couch and pulled out his laptop. The dim light in his apartment flickered. He hadn’t been taking care of himself lately, since his last break up. Now, he had good reason to clean up and look nice again.
He looked up the cafe online, clicking on their social media page. He looked for your name, and saw that you followed their Instagram. He opened your profile and was pleased—and a little surprised—to see that it was all public. You posted a lot. And your most recent picture made his cock twitch.
Your face was pouty and bored, the flash of the picture causing a subtle blur. You wore a mini skirt and a skimpy top that your tits strained against—the comments were filled with girls complimenting you, calling you hot and beautiful, and you’d reply back, swearing they were even more gorgeous.
Incredible.
Eren couldn’t believe his eyes as he went through your feed. Latte art, concerts, books you were reading, meals you had. You were so open online in comparison to your meek disposition at the store. This had to be a facade.
He went through your tagged photos as well. You didn’t seem to have too many friends, and no boyfriend in sight. You were perfect. He would get to know you in no time.
He went through your following, looking at stores, brands, artists, and actors. You were dumb enough to use the same username for everything, and within an hour Eren found you on more apps and websites. He went through your public music playlists, the movies you’d review online, where you graduated high school, what kind of family you had. It was too easy. Like he was meant to find you, to love you. He wanted to teach you how to hold your chin up, or hold it for you.
Eren saved all his favorite pictures of you, still pleasantly surprised at the kind of outfits you’d wear to the bar or the club. Glittery makeup, low cut tops, fishnets, short dresses. He pulls out his cock as he goes through the new photo folder he created, titled “My Girl.”