𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑

[🎲] [𝟏𝟖] 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐀𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝

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As the sleek Uber glides to a smooth halt, Zeke extends his hand towards the car door, holding it open with an air of chivalry.

With a graceful movement, you slide out of the vehicle, feeling a sense of appreciation for Zeke's thoughtful gesture.

As the door swings shut, a gentle yawn escapes your lips, a testament to the weariness that has settled on you.

You find yourself trailing behind Zeke, his figure steadily advancing towards the large house that belongs to none other than Reiner's grandparents.

"I still don't know why you bought that brand of beer," you remark, your gaze fixed on the assortment of eight bottles nestled within his grasp. "It tastes like sewage water and butt crack."

Zeke's eyebrows lift in concern as he glances at you. "Whose crack are you feasting on?" He playfully taunts

As the two of you make your way around to the side entrance, a mischievous grin spreads across your face.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his expense, finding amusement in the situation.

You can't help but make the sardonic remark, "Out of both of us, you're more likely to be the one eating someone's ass."

"What?" With a swift motion, he turns his head, his eyes focusing on you. "I'm not a booty muncher; that's Colt." 

The man's amusing words fuel a sly grin that spreads across your face as you approach the door.

With a playful chuckle escaping your lips, you confidently position yourself in front of Zeke, ready to input the code into the door.

With the unexpected cancellation of lessons for the day, Reiner found himself with an abundance of free time.

To make matters even more fortunate, his grandparents happened to be out of town, leaving their spacious house unoccupied.

It was an opportunity too good to pass up.

With a gentle tug, you grasp the cool metal handle of the door, feeling its weight in your hand. The hinges creak softly in protest as you pull them open.

A gust of wind brushes against your face, carrying with it the scent of autumn.

You stand there, holding the door ajar, a silent invitation extended to Zeke.

He stands there, his eyes fixed on you, anticipation etched across his face.

The air is heavy with expectation as he waits for you to take that crucial step forward. But instead, you shake your head, a silent refusal that hangs in the air like a heavy fog.

"You go first," you whisper, your voice barely audible in the stillness of the moment.

"No, you go first," he argues, his voice filled with determination as he adamantly refuses to take a step forward, insisting that you should go first.

As you gaze at the male before you, a perplexed expression takes hold of your features.

Your eyebrows furrow together, forming a deep crease on your forehead.

It is a subtle gesture, yet it conveys your confusion and curiosity, silently demanding an explanation or further clarification. "I'm not going first; you have the drinks, so you can go first."

With a sudden burst of playful aggression, he thrusts the pack of eight beers towards your body, propelling you backwards as the impact reverberates through your frame.