BEE

It was loud.

Their house conveniently built in the heart of many showbiz houses and agencies hosted another birthday of hers. It was a disguise though. A birthday party for her when all that her parents wanted was to build as many connections for a business of theirs, not for her day.

How many birthdays has it been since she unveiled their selfish . . . disguise? No, scratch that, she doesn’t remember a birthday where the flavour of cake she requested was bought. How hard did they need to please the guests in their house that a simple chocolate flavour was always dismissed? It was always a horrible fruit cake that was in the middle of the room.

Gone was all the joy in her eyes, now at twenty-one all that Historia wanted to do was put an end to the party. March up to the DJ’s sound system and unplug it, get that mic and tell everyone to leave. Then she’ll stand back, enjoying the confusion on everyone's face.

Watch what would be her mother’s reaction as all of them left one by one until the house, decorated with all the bright colours she now despised, was filled with years and years of misery.

For once she’ll get that birthday she wanted.

She snuck into the kitchen where the catering staff didn’t pay any attention to her, busy with doing their job to save their heads from being on her mom’s platter. Bent down to fish out the coat from the lower cabinet she knew about and draped it over her dress. “Hey, Historia,” came a hand on her shoulder.

Oh, Reiner. Relief at the fact that it wasn’t another actor who was trying to scoop her up for a photo. “Rei-rei, hey.”

He leaned into her, accepting the rolls of tissues from a caterer, “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Where all of us avenger assembled.” He tugged on her wrist, telling her to hide behind him. “We found a room with all these snacks . . .” he used his body to shield her from the crowd who tried to look past him, that welcomed them out in the kitchen until they reached the top of the steps.

Looking up ahead it was the pantry. Where everything was stored. Didn’t the maids lock this segment up? Still, compared to any other parts of the house, this was quiet. “Right.”

“Found the Birthday girl!” Announced Reiner, taking everyone’s attention from the deck of cards and personal conversations to her.

A series of happy birthday’s with Sasha and Connie singing a broken tune of the song.

And then it was quiet. Finally.

“Thank you, guys.” She smiled, clasping her hands together. A finger toying with the necklace she’s always worn for her birthday. ”What were you doing?”

“Getting ready for fourteen minutes?” Said Sasha, then pointed at (Y/n) in the corner where a line of windows was. “(Y/n) was napping, the same with Berth and Annie. Eren’s fighting with Jean—”

“No, we weren’t. He was being dumb.”

“Yeah you were, and we were just sitting. Until Rei-rei looked for you so that’s that.”

“Fourteen minutes . . .” she asked, earning a scoff from Reiner who was coming in and out of one section of the pantry with cheese. Cheese. What are they up to this time?

“Yeah, Kirstein wouldn’t stop talking about it. The only greatest thing that came out of his mouth.

Really.”

Only when she was at peace and away from her party, did Historia notice how parched she was and made her way to where (Y/n) was. With guilt forming at her chest. And two chocolate milk cartons joined her on the floor where the window was overlooking the city. A normal day for everyone in their homes.

How lucky they were that they didn’t have a birthday party.

“Happy Birthday!” Was all she could offer instead of a sorry to (Y/n). What really went on inside her parents' minds to call in (Y/n) and tell her that she should celebrate with them?

To her. (Y/n) was the composed co-star, quiet until it’s needed for her to record her scenes. Always in her own world. A great friend who’ll just sit down and listen. One would say it was because she just listened when needed, but to be honest, she just mastered the art of dozing off unnoticed. And for her parents to be so adamant about (Y/n)’s birthday being celebrated in the same house . . . it just didn’t feel appropriate at all.

Taking the carton from Historia’s hand she looked at her. “Happy Birthday to you too, Hisu.” The pink dress that hugged her peaked from under her brown fur jacket, (Y/n) guessed that she wasn’t happy with the outfit at all. “Are you enjoying your party?”

“Eh, could be better, really.” With (Y/n) she realised that she could let her shoulders fall. Let her body slack and just exist. No masks to put up, no need for a fancy show of words that’ll brag about her lief in the industry.

“Like if it ended?” A cheer from where her pool was located made them flinch, sending the group into a conversation about the Reiss’s mansion. How it was a Russian doll with one surprise after another.

There was a silence between them when their conversation died down to drink the rest of their chocolate milk. Alone with their thoughts. What was going in (Y/n)’s is exclusive to her.

But what the storm in Historia’s head developed into something bigger. Darker, even. It rained and rained until the flood it started in her body dared to come out in a series of mashed sentences that won’t make sense. Every day it was a battle of concealing them all in with the personality known as her brand, today seemed appropriate.

She turned her head to see them playing on their phones, another battle game. Then to (Y/n) with a pounding heart, fearing the reaction she’ll pull from the girl.

“(Y/n), I wanted to ask.”

“Sure, what is it?” Off to a great start, her eyes were still heavy from the sleep she woke up from. Hand toying with the flaps of the carton and the straw becoming flatter with her teeth.

“Well, you like girls? In that sort of way.”

“I do.”

Annnd now, folks, it was awkward.

Really awkward.

Not that (Y/n) ever seemed to mind at all though, in her head, Historia truly believed that she shouldn’t have asked anything at all. She could tolerate the many days of suffering— until a chance like this resurfaces again.

If it does come again.

The thought of that added the gloom to her very dark train of ‘what if’s.

And now it was awkward.

With her mind thinking ahead, way ahead. Miles away from where she’s sat on the floor, her sentences came out in confused repetitions. “How do you— no, like . . . you just knew it?” Each trying to be a better version of the former when it was all incoherent.

Historias hands were on her laps, fingers. (Y/n)’s mouth agape, and her wondering if her mind wasn’t screwed in properly or if it was just Historia affected by the weight of the party. “So, you wanna know how to come out or? I’m really confused here.” That stopped her. Mouth staying open just like hers.

Confused like her? Maybe.

“What? No?” A train of unsure expressions. Until she looked ahead at (Y/n). “I mean, I don’t really know yet. That’s why I’m asking.”

“Bro,” now she was more awake, using the side of her fist to rub her eyes. Then turned her body to show her excitement. “What do you wanna know?”

“Didn’t expect you to be so happy?.”

“C’mon you’d be flattered if you were me,” A slap to the wooden floor to contain her excitement. “A lesbian whisperer, I should put that in my resume.”

At least that removed the scared look on Hisu’s face One that (Y/n) could call her friend from the many years she’s held that part of herself in. “What do you want to know?” She asked genuinely now, leaning her head on the glass.

Historia gulped. Eyes searched the place, envying everyone who wasn’t dealing with something as big as hers. Their mind was so free that they can just lounge around in a pantry, thumbs playing away. “Do I . . .”

“—Do I hate myself after accepting the fact that I like girls especially after my upbringing. And

then will I hate myself if I make the people who love me upset?” OooH (Y/n) was excited. Eager! Reader to bestow all the things she picked up— realised when she walked about with an identifier pasted on her.

Instead though, “— have to dress the part?” Pushing her off excitement and back to square one again. Confusion.

“Huh?”

She shrugged, holding up manicured fingers. Pink. Folding one down as she listed everything that she’s seen. “You know, like— cut my hair and all. Dress lesbian? That’s a thing, right?”

“I mean if you want to, then go for it I guess?”

“No no no, you don’t understand!”

“I’m the one who doesn’t get it?”

“Look at you! You’re so casual with who are, makes you all confident without making it a big

deal. But you still look . . . not lesbian?” And that squeezed more brainpower out of (Y.n). Was it the music? Or was she being too excited that nothing wasn’t making sense? And now she was being complimented.

Repeating Historia’s words until she made sense, (Y/n) looked ahead. Eyes wide. “No.”

“Huh.” Good, she bought it.

(Y/n) lowered Historia’s hand. Replacing it with hers. “So, if you are. Hypothetically, as of now.” She looked at Historia for confirmation. A nod. Then she went on. ”Go to the men’s section, yeah. Buy a bunch of shirts. One that’ll hide your chest blessings. Cuff your pants and then, there’s a special store that specialises in beanies, yeah. You get them. But only in a very specific shade of yellow. If you were to wear glasses, get them in a round frame—”

“Ahaha, very funny (Y/n).”

Copying Historia, (Y/n) hugged her knees close to her. “You don’t need to change anything about you, Hisu. Stay the way you are. Liking girls adds to who you are— but don’t make it your personality,” her face showing a disgusted expression. And then profit off of it and call it a phase, ugh, disgusting.”

“But really,” the carefulness she gave in her words opened wounds, bringing a coat of glossiness in her eyes. “You’ll somehow lose parts of yourself in people. Then you’ll ask yourself why— I mean, I’d rather have it that way than have a bunch of people tell you they’ll be there for you and then call you ‘broken’.”

“Oh,”

“People. Just people, you know.”

“I should’ve asked, I’m really sorry. (Y/n).”

“Nooo, it’s alright. Really.”

“If you find yourself, you’ve got me.”

“Figured you were the right person to ask.”

“Happy Birthday to us indeed.” Their conversation cut off when Bertholdt, now awake and confused, jerked awake under Sasha and Reiner drawing on him using mascara. Someone was injured from Betholdt’s feet coming down from its position on the wall, and no one knew yet who.

A poke to Historia’s shoulder. “You can ask Reiner too you know.” Came from (Y/n), making her eyes slowly wide.

“Reiner’s . . .”

“Yep, it was obvious. ”

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From where he stood with Miche and Nile at the banquet hall, both who were lost in their talks of business and inheritances, Erwin felt the breath that was supposed to come out as a sigh be cut short. Trapped in his throat. And when she smiled at his mother, his mind already knew that it was her. The one and only.

One that he thought he’d never see again.

Was she the one his mother praised for working so diligently at the dinner table? The one who she wanted to make the company spokesperson when Pyxis stepped down from the position.

He excused himself, not bothering to offer an explanation as he walked toward them. Receiving ‘Happy Birthdays’ and a call of his name when he passed by someone. As he got closer, he realised that she was ready to leave, holding her thin cardigan that wouldn’t do anything against the cold, close. Her bag by her thighs as she held it manicured hands.

If anything, she looked pretty even after all two? No, five years since she graduated.

“Ah, Erwin” greeted his mother, abruptly setting her glass down to put a hand on (Y/n), Turned to her to say, “This is my son— she graduated from that university you teach!”

She only nodded, briefly turning to him and then back at her. “Actually, he was my first boss”

“Ooh,” amusement flashed in Edith’s eyes, “looks like you meant to be working for us then?”

“She’s a very diligent writer,” was all he could offer. After all, he wanted to still be the cool guy. Well, he overheard her say that to a friend back then before he entered the office.

“I’d love to stay but . . .” (Y/n) began suggesting that she needed to go home. “May I go home early?”

The ladies surrounding (Y/n) all of who were praising her just like Edith showed concern, telling Edith to call the family car. Instead, how his mother rose her eyebrows at him told him otherwise. “Yes, yes, you worked hard this week. Thank you, (Y/n). Erwin, accompany her.”

Oh.

Just the two of them then?

He felt hot underneath his collar and hoped that he wasn’t blushing. Or if he was, he hoped that she wasn’t looking at him like how she would when waiting for an explanation.

“I don’t trust those on-call cars. Are you sure you don’t want to use one of our cars?”

“I’ll be fine Edith. Thank you very much!” But she did look at him. Then turned around to walk out the hall. Her stare, though brief and probably didn’t mean anything, cemented Erwin’s attention on her back, only following her until she was nearly out. Feet on the ground until his mother nudged him.

In big leaps and a stretch of his arm, he was able to catch up to her. “Hey!”

“Sir!” He removed his hand from her shoulder to walk along with her out to the reception hall. Desrerted that they could hear their own footsteps echo.

He laughed. “I’m not your advisor anymore, miss (L/n). Acquaintances, then, yes.” The air of power between them only kept her quiet. Nodding as if that was the answer he wanted. “You can call me Erwin now,”

“Er . . . win,” she said more to herself, sitting on a bench that faced the windows for walls. “Erwin, Erwin. Erwin Smith. Maybe if I say it like that again and again, it’ll get rid of the awkwardness.”

“Perhaps.”

Together they waited at the barely lit hall. The security guards acknowledged him as they made their way to the camera room. Everything was quiet enough for his mind to be so loud with questions of what he should do. What to ask.

To (Y/n) she tried to lighten the mood, and tried to, “Then you should just call me, (Y/n).” only to for her vision to turn red when he was already facing her to drape his scarf over her neck. Face as serious as when he read what she edited.

“You should take this.” The image of his sharp nose, who the older women at the uni credited to him having German blood in him, was sharper being all so close like this. Or was it age that made him look more defined? “It’s colder tonight, (Y/n).”

“Agreed. I didn’t expect it to get this cold.” she buried her face in the warm noticing the familiar collagen he used. “Thank you though, I’ll return—”

“Don’t.”

“By the way,” when her phone showed that the car was fifteen minutes away from the location, she stood up. Erwin’s arm darted out to hold her bag and he stood with her.

“Hmm?”

“I thought you were already thirty-five when you entered the uni.”

Confused, he opened the door for her, immediately being hit by the air. “That’s . . . old?”

“Just had to say it. But really, you’re just thirty-two?”

“I was twenty-six, turning twenty-seven!”

“Again,” she emphasised, rocking on her heels. “You somehow looked older.”

“What about now?”

“You look what an Erwin should look like.” A playful smile when she took bigger strides to warm herself. “Unless you’ve thirty-two for quite some time now?”

“If only.” He sighed. Anytime now the car would arrive and take her to her location. When he’ll see her was left to the many scenarios at night. And to add, Erwin was tired enough to not care at all. So he skipped down the steps and joined (Y/n). Blocking her way so that he could ask, “We’re both out of the university— well, you’re not my assistant editor now. Or considered my

student anymore?” In a hurried tone that some of his words were mashed together.

The determination in his tone was enough for her to pick up on what he was going to ask next. “Coffee’s out of the question, you of all people know that.”

Right, one time out of trying to break the ice he bought them iced coffee and doughnuts. Erwin learnt that coffee itched her throat to a level of uncomfortability, but half the doughnuts were gone. She looked cute that day. “Yeah, I know that.” He was in deep thought for a while. “What about the fine arts museum?”

Her answer was quick. “Yes, please!” When she looked down to look at the notification on her phone, Erwin dared down to kiss the side of her head, only to see a distressed look on her face, making him believe that he may have been too excited to do that. Her eyes searched the parking lot. ”Oh no.“

“What happened?”

“Uber cancelled.”

“Give me your location, my car’s parked below.”

“You’ll miss out on your birthday party,”

“Meeting you was enough of a gift.”

“Oh my god . . .” her eyes widened, amused at his fast comeback, and again they widened when she realised that her words came out like smoke. “Erwin, look! It’s really cold!” She exaggerated this time, breathing out with her mouth wide open that it earned a chuckle from him.

“Do you want to have dinner, too?”

“Now you’re just pushing your luck.” She laughed, playfully slapping his arm. “You’re it!”

“(Y/n)!”

“Catch me if you’re not old Erwin!” And that he did, loosening his tie and off he goes to chase her.

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