The Hay Cafe was always busy. Some loved the coffee shop for it's atmosphere - it always smelled like sweet coffee, and big leather chairs filled the large space. The walls were painted a light shade of yellow, and large windows filled the front, letting in lots of natural light during the day. Some loved it for the beverages. The coffee was great, but lots of their specials were exclusive and unlike anything else in town. And some loved it for the baristas. Okay, maybe that was just Marianne.
The girl sat around a coffee table with Claude and Lysithea. The two chatted as Marianne stared at the pink haired girl behind the counter and sipped her tea. Her long locks were pulled into a messy bun atop her head with strands sticking out. It was made to look natural, but Marianne had seen her enough to know how much she fussed with it between customers. Her brown apron had the Hay Cafe logo delicately embroidered on it, and a gold nameplate pinned to the strap. “Hilda.” Marianne had been taken with the name weeks ago when she first came, and she was taken with it again today.
The blue haired girl took another sip of her lavender tea, feeling the warm water move through her chest. It always seemed to calm her, though it was unclear if that was the tea or the fact that Hilda made it for her.
“...Marianne?” Claude asked. He and Lysithea were looking at her, seeming to be waiting for the answer to an unknown question. A flower of stress bloomed in Marianne's chest as it always did when she had to speak. It had gotten easier with these two - she had known them for months now - but the nerves never really went away.
“Oh, umm, I'm sorry.” Her cheeks heated as she looked down. “I-I wasn't paying attention. I'm sorry.” Claude smiled knowingly at this.
“It's fine. We were just wondering what you thought about that cute barista?” Marianne nearly choked on her tea as her cheeks reddened and her eyes widened. Her blue eyes darted to the girl in question, confirming that she wouldn't overhear the conversation. Hilda, in turn, was looking at her immaculate nails with boredom.
“I- er…” Marianne started before Lysithea smacked Claude's arm.
“Ow!” He responded dramatically through laughter, as though she had barely grazed him. All this earned Claude was an aggressive glare from the girl. Lysithea then turned to Marianne, the anger leaving her face almost immediately.
“What he was asking was what you thought of professor Byleth.” The professor had come to Garreg Mach University three weeks ago. Marianne only had one class with her, so she had little to no impression of her. She seemed nice enough, but Marianne wasn't exactly the type of person to speak to someone outside of class. Or at all.
“Oh. She, umm, seems nice.” The heat was leaving her cheeks as the conversation changed, and relief flooded her. Still, a little voice whispered at the back of Marianne’s mind. Could he really tell? Or was that just a coincidence? If it wasn't, could Hilda tell, too? Though she hadn't known Claude for very long, Marianne got the sense that he always knew just a little bit more than he let on.
Her small answer seemed to suffice, as the two were back to debating the new professor. “She seems… under qualified, does she not?” Lysithea asked. Marianne forced herself to pay attention this time to prevent any misunderstandings again. “I mean, as much as I'm willing to learn from a good professor, how much experience can she have when she's practically our age?” Claude chuckled at this as he set his cup of black coffee on the table.
“Our age, you mean.” He motioned to Marianne and himself. “I think she still has a few years on you.” He smiled smugly as the small white haired girl fumed again, staring holes through his head.
“Claude! I am barely three years younger than you, and would appreciate you not addressing it at every opportunity.” Her cheeks changed to the slightest tint of red. She was younger than the majority of the student population and acutely aware of this. Lysithea strived to be treated as an equal, which only made Claude want to bring the age difference up even more. The two continued to bicker as Marianne cracked the smallest smile. Coming to the school was hard enough, but the fact that she had found friends warmed her in a way she had never felt before. Seeing them bicker in that aggressive way only friends could made her happy, but also like she was part of something. Going out and being social was all still new, and, like anything else, she felt cautious. Despite that, Marianne was content, and it showed, however small, on her face.
Claude looked up and saw this. He paused from pointing out something that was sure to aggravate Lysithea more and smiled wide. “See? Even Marianne’s getting a kick out of this.” Hearing this, Marianne’s eyes widened and she looked into her empty cup, willing the situation away. Lysithea glanced at her with still angry eyes, but quickly shook her head and turned back to Claude.
“She wouldn't hurt a fly, let alone me. Stop trying to use her as a human shield from me, Claude.” The green eyed boy put his hands up in mock surrender.
“Fine, fine. Make it up to you with another cocoa?” It was the only beverage she would drink here without adding an excessive amount of sugar or sweetener. Before she could answer, Claude grabbed Lysithea’s empty mug and stood up. “Coming, Marianne?” He nodded at the teacup Marianne gripped tightly. She was still reliving the fear from being accused minutes ago.
Hearing her name, Marianne nodded stiffly and stood up from the deep leather chair she sat in. She mimicked Claude's movement as they squeezed behind chairs and between people. The wooden floor creaked under their weight as they neared the dark wooden counter with glass display cases. Behind it stood Hilda, swiping mindlessly on her phone.
Claude approached first, setting the ceramic mugs on the counter and requesting that they be refilled. She nodded, setting her phone down and grabbing a kettle of hot water. Steam rose as she began to pour, and Marianne smiled shyly as she watched precipitation gather on Hilda's brow. The barista tilted the kettle until there was nothing left, topping off the first container perfectly. She then reached for a half-full pitcher of coffee and filled the next cup. The harsh smell reached Marianne's nose and she squinted in disgust. She never would have guessed that Claude would like coffee. He seemed so light and funny, and even occasionally sweet - all things that felt opposite of the bitter beverage. Still, he thanked Hilda graciously and stepped aside for Marianne, giving her a secret sort of smile. She nodded in thanks and confusion - were her feelings really that obvious? - before stepping forward with uncharacteristic bravery.
“Another tea?” Hilda asked as the girl came closer. Marianne's cheeks flooded with pink as the girl spoke.
“Oh… how did you know?” Marianne asked bravely while looking down at the cup. Eye contact was for another day. Right now, this conversation was enough.
“You come here more than you think.” Hilda smiled knowingly at the girl. They had spoken before, however brief, but Marianne's eyes widened at the realization. Still, doing her very best to play it cool, she answered calmly.
“Umm, I guess you're right.”
“Mhm,” Hilda responded proudly, as though this observation was some sort of big win for her. She then looked down at the newly emptied kettle, as if considering it deeply. “Well, this baby just ran out of water. She’ll take a few minutes to heat up…” she paused to look back at the table Lysithea was sitting at. Marianne followed her gaze and felt her shoulders slump. It was becoming too clear that she wasn't wanted.
“Oh… sorry…” Marianne began to walk away before Hilda reached over the counter and touched her arm.
“Or. You didn't let me finish. I was gonna say ‘or, you could wait and keep me company?’ …You can totally go through. The customer’s always right and all that.” She said the last part a little too quickly, as if it as an afterthought.
Marianne smiled in excitement before she could stop herself. “I-I'd like that. If… if you want the company.” She spoke gleefully, showing an emotion Claude had never seen her have before. Taking his cue, he cut in before bowing out gracefully.
“Well, ladies, I'll head back to Lysithea. If I leave her alone too long, one of those ghosts might come and get her.” He turned and walked away, mouthing over his shoulder to Marianne “take your time.” She gave a small smile in thanks and turned back to Hilda, who seemed vaguely confused at the interaction.
“Does… does he believe in ghosts? Or think this place is haunted?” Marianne looked back at her friends to consider for a moment.
“Umm… He doesn't, but I think… she might.” It always felt weird for her to talk about them with other people - if she said something wrong and they heard they could get mad. But now… Marianne didn't know why but her tongue felt looser around Hilda, despite them barely knowing each other. She blushed maddeningly at the thought of tongues and quickly spoke to distract herself. “S-so, umm…” Starting conversations was never her strong suit. The pink haired girl saw this and spoke up.
“I'm Hilda.” She pointed to the name tag attached to her apron. “You've probably seen the tag. You are…?”
“I'm Marianne.” At this, Hilda squinted at her slightly, testing the name in her mouth.
“Marianne…” Her eyes suddenly popped open with realization. “Oh! I know where I know you from. You're in my civics history class, right? With Hanerman?” Marianne nodded hesitantly. She was pleased that Hilda recognized her, but nervous all the same. Had she done something awkward while she watched? Of course, Marianne had seen her from day one. Though they had yet to talk until this meeting, Marianne noticed that they shared a class on the second day, and consequently was sure to sit as far away as possible whenever she could. Yes, she was trying to be braver, but it had to be on her terms. Having the girl she maybe sorta has a crush on walk up to her with no warning would certainly fluster her into a fool.
Not that this was much better.
Hilda, still reeling from the fact that they shared a class all this time, continued to have a fairly one sided conversation. “Professor Hanerman is so boring. I've fallen asleep in that class, like, five times.” Marianne nodded and smiled at this anecdote before realizing that this is where most people would add to conversations.
“Oh, yeah. That class is a little, uhh, dry.” She cracked a smile at this. So rare was it that Marianne felt comfortable enough to gossip like this behind someone's back, but there was something different about being with that girl. She felt safe, warm, and familiar even, in some sense. Hilda smiled wide at the response.
“Right? I'd never have taken that class if my parents didn't make me. All that stuff is so dull.”
“Really? My dad is making me take it too.”
“I bet most of the students there are in the same boat. Honestly, though, who would take a class like that because they actually want to?” Out of nowhere, a giggle bubbled up inside Marianne. Unprepared, it came out awkwardly, surprising both her and Hilda. Marianne was suddenly beet red, looking down in harsh embarrassment. Hilda looked at her with a small, albeit confused giggle. “What?” Marianne looked up, smiling slightly again.
“It's just… she is.” Marianne made a small gesture back to Lysithea, who was already reprimanding Claude again. The two girls at the counter chuckled at this again, careful not to look at her too obviously.
“Ghost girl? Really? ...Actually I can kinda see that. She's younger, right? And she always makes that guy-” she pointed at Claude “order her drinks. ‘Hot chocolate with extra marshmallows and whipped cream.’ She seems so kid-ish, but… I guess all those traits kinda make sense together in a weird way. I dunno, you know her better.” Marianne shook her head in disagreement.
“N-no, actually. That's all right. She just… wants to be more grown up. Claude always makes fun of her for it.” Hilda snorted at the thought. Marianne looked at the girl behind the counter for a moment too long before noticing that she was looking back at her. Not at something across the room, or at Marianne's hair, or anything else. Hilda was looking into her eyes. And Marianne was looking into her eyes. They both seemed to notice at the same time before looking away swiftly; Marianne at the floor and Hilda at the kettle, which was just starting to steam slightly.
“You… you said your parents were making you take the class? Why do they care so much?” Hilda asked, seemingly just as desperate to move on as Marianne was.
“It's, umm, just my father. My adoptive father. And he wants me to learn this because he's a minor lord back home. Why do your parents care…?” Hilda nodded as Marianne spoke before answering the question.
“Well, my parents are also nobles, so kinda the same reason. Not that I really want to ‘follow in their footsteps’ or anything.” She put the emphasis on the phrase, as though intimidating someone else speaking. Hilda noted the girl's confusion and quickly answered the unspoken question. “That's my dad. He can be so overbearing sometimes, but I don't even get why. My brother is older and would way rather do all of that anyway, so why bother making me do all this?” She gestured around her. “This job, by the way, was not my idea at all. Just some help to make me more ‘responsible’ and “sensible’. I don't know, they are good things to be, I guess, but it's not really… me.” She said the final word with emphasis, putting her hands on her hips to punctuate the sentence.
Marianne nodded in empathy at the story. She always felt out of place, or that she wasn't fitting the expectations thrown upon her. It was one of the reasons she had so much trouble being social. “Than what is, er, ‘you?’”
“Like what do I want to do? One sec.” Hilda held up a finger before rummaging through her bag behind the counter. It was leather and pink; the shade of which matched her hair colour to a tee. After a moment, her hand emerged holding a delicate and detailed necklace. It had a large blue jewel in the center, surrounded by engraved silver vines. “This is what I really love. Designing accessories. I finished this one last night.” She held it out, prompting Marianne to touch it. She did, feeling the cool metal under the tips of her fingers. “I'm taking a few business classes and hoping to start my own company. Do you like it?”
“I-it's amazing,” Marianne whispered, entranced by the simple object's beauty. “I'm sure your company would do great if you sold things like this.” She looked back up at Hilda from the pendant, only to find her smiling ear to ear.
“Aww, really? Thanks. At least someone thinks so. My whole family thinks it's a pipe dream at best, but you see it, don't you? I mean, stuff like this has real potential, right?”
Marianne's head bobbed up and down in confirmation. “It does. That's beautiful.”
“Thanks, Marianne. I-” She was cut off by the sound of the boiling water in the kettle. It's whistle pierced through the conversation almost as well as it pierced through the air. Hilda rushed over, lifting the metal container off the small stove and pouring it's contents into the cup. Marianne watched as the teas colour satisfyingly seeped into the water, taking it over drop by drop. Hilda carried the cup over before placing it on the counter between them. A strong sent of lavender followed close after. A long moment of silence held before the barista grabbed a paper napkin and a pen. She scribbled something down on it, her hand unintentionally blocking the words. She then capped the pen and threw it back in her bag haphazardly, before picking the cup up and handing it to the customer, sliding the napkin underneath.
“Here you are.”
“Oh, umm, thanks…” Marianne tried to say politely, In reality, however, she was grasping for a way to slow down time. This conversation gave Marianne something she had never felt before, and something she now craved more of. It was unexpected, for this feeling to come so fast in such a brief conversation, but welcomed all the same. And now it was over, and she was left to return to her half alive state of mumbles and sighs. Hilda looked at her with a smug expression, as though she could sense the feeling.
“Hey, if you ever want to talk more, or hang out or… something,” she shook her head at the pause, as though clearing thoughts from her mind. “Anyway, here's your tea. Here's your napkin,” she added, which Marianne found odd. She came here enough to know the policies, and drinks were never served with napkins. She looked back at Hilda questioningly, who only nodded at the napkin as a gesture to look at it. Marianne's eyes widened as she pulled out the paper to examine it. On it was a string of numbers followed by Hilda's signature. All of a sudden, the girl constantly lost for words was lost for words.
“I- er-” Hilda snickered at this.
“No pressure, of course, but now you have it,” she said with a wink. “Anyway, you should probably get back soon.” She nodded at the table with Claude and Lysithea, the former of which was laughing hysterically as the latter quietly shouted a string of insults and retorts. “I kinda get the sense that you're the peacemaker in the group.”
“Yeah…” Marianne responded, seeming to find her voice again. “Umm, I'll, er, text you?” It was intended as a statement, but came out as a request for permission.
“Yep! See ya, then.” Hilda gave a small wave as Marianne took the tea and napkin away, pleased with how the time was passed. Marianne, for her part, looked down as she approached the table, having to bite the inside of her cheeks to keep from smiling. She placed the cup down and put the napkin in her pocket, folding it carefully before doing so. Precious cargo like this had to be treated with care.
“Whadda you got there, Marianne?” Claude said, eyeing the napkin.
“This? Oh, umm, it's nothing,” she replied quietly; all of the confidence from before gone. Claude nodded, but Marianne noticed the glint in his eye. How did he always know everything? Despite her fears, Claude dropped the topic and returned to his drink. Marianne thanked the goddess and sipped her new tea, stealing a quick glance back at Hilda. The barista stood there, looking back, and gave a small wave. Again, that feeling creeped up Marianne's chest. The one exception being that now she didn't mistake it for fear. She saw it for what it really was: love.