It was "tea" minus one to Operation First First Date, and Cora was freaking out. She had at least kept her cool over the last week—well, for the most part. Sure, she may have burned herself a bit when she made eye contact with Farron over the espresso machine, and maybe she tripped over the non-slip mat when Kevin asked what she was doing on her day off, but whatever. She was totally cool. Cool beans.

"Let me see your hand," Farron said during lunch.

Cora froze in mid-chew of the noodles Farron made. "Hm?"

"Your hand." Farron held out their own hand, then a small white and blue packet in the other. "It looked like you burned yourself on the espresso machine, and after what I've heard from Kevin about the working conditions there, I don't expect Cool Beans to have a stocked first aid kit."

"Oh." Cora wasn't sure if they even had an empty first aid kit. "Um...thanks."

When Farron's warm fingers wrapped around Cora's hand, Cora had to remind herself how to breathe—then, she had to remind herself to not inhale the noodles that were still in her mouth. To keep herself busy, she finished chewing her food.

"That doesn't look too bad, but it's probably best if you get some burn gel on that, at least so it doesn't itch as much." They pointed the packet they were holding at the small patch of pink skin on the back of Cora's hand. "May I?"

Cora hummed a vague affirmation, nodded in case that wasn't clear, then belatedly closed her mouth that had opened at some point.

Farron grinned, and when they released Cora's hand to open the packet of medicine, Cora had to resist seizing Farron's hand herself. There were ways Farron could open the medicine with one hand—for instance, with their teeth. It would be impractical, sure, but imagining their toned arm with their beautiful dragon tattoo flexing just to help Cora—

"Cora?" Farron asked. "You okay?"

Cora jumped, quickly wiping away the smile that had snuck onto her face. "Yeah! Yeah. Totally cool. I'm just... I'm excited about tomorrow, I guess."

Farron's grin widened just before they lowered their head to apply the medicine to Cora's hand. "Me too. I need you to do something for me, though."

Cora was already nodding. "Yeah, sure. I mean, maybe. Probably."

Farron waited until they secured a bandage on Cora's hand before turning back to her. "Try not to get hurt anymore before then. Okay?"

"That's going to be tough," Cora said, then shrugged. "But I'll try. As long as you do the same."

Farron chuckled, and they squeezed Cora's hand before returning to their own lunch. "I'll do my best."

***

It was Operation First First Date, and Cora was...everything. She was nervous about screwing up, excited about spending time with Farron, and everything in between. While she didn't know exactly what Farron had in store for their day ahead, Cora was looking forward to it, more than she had for anything in the last few years.

Maybe that's why she arrived at the park half an hour early with a backpack full of supplies she wasn't sure would be needed.

"Cora!" a familiar husky voice called from behind her.

Cora turned, then began to scream in her head.

At first glance, Farron's outfit was similar to how it always was before and after their Fruitastic shifts: a black, fitted top and black, baggy pants. The biggest difference was that their shirt was a tight tube top, showing even more of their toned arms and broad shoulders than normal. And even though their pants were their typical waist-high height, their short shirt managed to show a bit of their midriff with their very defined abs...

Cora swallowed. Maybe it was for the best that they didn't wear that outfit to work.

"And I thought I was early," Farron said once they caught up to her, grinning. "Sorry to keep you waiting. You look amazing."

Cora wasn't sure if Farron was just saying that to be nice, but she appreciated the compliment nonetheless. While she didn't have any of her nicer clothes from her younger years, she did have a pair of denim shorts that were hopefully suitable for most park activities. All she had needed was a nice top. Luckily, she found a cute floral blouse at a thrift store for only four dollars.

"Thanks," Cora said, then, before she could stop herself, "I got this for four dollars."

Ah, yes. Let your date know exactly how cheap you are. Perfect.

Farron chuckled. "That's an amazing find. It's like it was made for you."

"Thanks." Wait, she had said that already, right? And she hadn't even complimented Farron yet. "You look great too, by the way." That wasn't enough. She had delayed commenting for so long now, it seemed forced. She needed genuine, specific compliments. "It really brings out your..." wait, no, not that, "arms." Okay, she went with that.

Farron raised their eyebrows, but their slight smile showed they weren't too weirded out—hopefully. "My arms? What about my arms?"

"You know..." Cora lifted her gaze to the trees around them, hoping that not seeing Farron's reaction would make her admittance a little more bearable. "Like...your muscles and all that."

Thankfully, Farron laughed. "Thank you. It's good to know you appreciate them."

Cora hummed in affirmation. "Appreciate" was probably an understatement, but she didn't need to admit that much.

"Anyway, let's find a place to eat." Farron beamed as they raised their hands, which Cora belatedly noticed were laden with large insulated bags. "Hope you're hungry."

Cora was indeed hungry, but she lost her voice the moment Farron decided to lift heavy objects. It probably didn't help that they were just discussing their arms, but she knew it wouldn't have made a difference otherwise.

"Uh...yeah." Cora cleared her throat. "Do you need help with those?"

"I'm good, thanks." Then, with a wink, "Figured you would enjoy watching anyway."

Since Cora didn't want to lie, she merely hummed again.

They began walking along the concrete path. Cora followed Farron's lead, not trusting herself to unconsciously zoom ahead from her nerves. That would be an awful date: Cora only focused on trying to not embarrass herself while Farron chased after her with their short legs and muscular arms burdened with their lunch.

How did couples with height differences normally tackle such a problem? Did they just hold hands all the time? Was that why couples held hands—to act like those leashes for children? Was hand holding even appropriate for the first date? Did Farron keep both bags because they didn't want to hold Cora's hand?

"Would you want a bench or someplace on the grass?" Farron asked, smiling at Cora.

"Uh..." She didn't want to be indecisive, but she didn't want to seem picky either. "Both are fine. The bench might have more structure, but the grass has more room."

"In the shade or the sun?"

Choosing the shade would make her seem like an indoor recluse, but choosing the sun might force them to squint at each other for the entire date. "Well, it's a little chilly, so the sun might be warmer. But it might be a little too bright, so the shade might help with that."

Farron glanced at the grass around them. "Somewhere around here could be good. What do you think?"

This was a test. It had to be. "There seems to be a little amount of activity here, which would be cool to watch, but we can keep going if you're worried about stray frisbees."

Farron chuckled. "This isn't a test, you know. I am seriously willing to go wherever you want."

"Oh." Cora's gaze darted around, her mind churning through all possible events that could happen in the next couple hours. "Well...maybe on the grass in the shade. Like there, with the patches of sunlight."

Farron beamed. "Sounds perfect. Lead the way."

As nervous as she was, Cora did just that, doing her best to not act like an unleashed dog touching grass for the first time. Once they reached her target, she and Farron spread out a plastic mat, only struggling a bit when a gentle breeze lifted it just as Farron went to grab the food bags.

"Damnit," Farron grumbled from somewhere on the other side of the fluttering wall of pastel purple and green plaid.

This was Cora's chance to help, and she couldn't lose it. "I got it! Stand back!"

Cora hoped Farron could hear her over the flapping plastic, and in hindsight, she should've at least waited for Farron's confirmation. But her spurt of ambition suddenly reigned over reason, and after she stepped on the edge of her side, she outstretched her arms and let gravity take her like a flying squirrel.

A flying squirrel with a lot less lift, Cora found out as soon as she smacked face-first into the picnic mat, along with the solid ground beneath it.

"Are you okay?" Farron asked for somewhere above Cora's head.

"I'm fine," Cora squeaked, squeezing her eyes closed from the ache and embarrassment. "I could've been a little more graceful, though."

A hand held Cora's shoulder, and her eyes snapped open. Farron looked down at her—for once—smiling.

"Well, I thought you were amazing," they said. "Risking your body for this? My hero."

Cora wasn't sure how long she lay on the mat, blinking up at Farron as her mind delved into panicked screams. "T-thanks."

When Cora finally heaved herself upright, the two of them began unpacking Farron's bags. Soon, an assortment of small reusable containers filled a third of the mat, and from what Cora could see through the multi-colored lids, everything looked homemade and delicious.

"Wow," Cora said as she stared at the spread. She definitely didn't contribute enough to deserve this. "This is a lot. Are you sure it's okay? It must've..." cost a fortune, "taken a lot of time."

"It's no trouble," Farron said, searching their bags for any stragglers. "Besides, I was the one that asked you out, after all."

It still didn't feel right. They hadn't been close for long, and this was only their first date. What if it didn't work out in the next hour? What if Cora ended up being a waste of Farron's time and money? Would Farron regret ever getting to know Cora? Would they not even want to be friends?

"But if it really bothers you," Farron continued, "you can chip in for our second date."

Cora waited a beat to see if Farron would start laughing at their joke; they did not. "S-second date?"

"Only if you want to, of course." They looked up from their bags and smiled, the softness of it as warm as the dappled sunlight filtering in through the leaves above. "This is me formally asking you on a second date."

"Oh, um..." Yes. Absolutely. A hundred times yes, please and thank you. "I mean, yeah. Absolutely. But are you sure? We've barely started this one."

Farron's smile widened. "I've always been sure. And don't worry, you won't have to chip in much. Maybe..." They glanced around the park, then at the food in front of them. "We can cook together. Just you and me. At my place."

At Farron's place? Cora had no idea how fast relationships normally went, but she did hear sapphic ones were basically speed runs to a domestic lifestyle. She really should've done more online research beforehand.

"We can work out the details later," Farron said, then nodded to the food. "Let's eat first. Just as soon as I find those damn drinks..."

Cora jumped to attention. "You need drinks?"

"Yeah, but I thought I had brought some." They continued to rummage through the empty bags for a few seconds before sighing, then turned to Cora with a sheepish grin. "Sorry, I think I forgot them. I have cups, though, so I can find a vending machine or water fountain or something."

"It's okay!" Cora lunged for her own backpack, nearly ripping the zippers open before she thrust her hand into the depths of random items and felt what she was looking for. "I brought some! Lemonade..." she whipped out the liter bottle she had just purchased from the dollar store, "and..."

She paused as her hand wrapped around the second bottle. Farron wouldn't judge her for it, right?

"Well..." Cora averted her eyes to the lone bottle of lemonade on the picnic mat. "I wanted to get something a little less sweet, like tea, but all the teas were sweetened. So I just...made my own."

After another moment of hesitation, Cora took a deep breath and yanked out the second bottle: a liter of oolong tea in an unmarked plastic bottle.

"I swear, I cleaned the bottle really well," Cora said, hoping Farron wouldn't judge her even more than they already did. "You don't have to drink it, of course. And the lemonade's completely safe, don't worry. Unless you count the amount of sugar in it, then I guess it's kind of bad for you, but..."

When Cora trailed off, unsure of whether she was digging herself into or out of a hole, she glanced at Farron.

Surprisingly, Farron was smiling. "You really are amazing, you know that?" Judging by their warm gaze, they weren't joking.

Cora quickly turned back to the food, trying her best to stifle her expression to nothing more than the tiniest grin possible. "Thanks."

With all of the necessities acquired, they dug in. Each of the wide variety of dishes looked so delicious that Cora and her rumbling stomach wasn't sure where to start.

Assorted sandwiches were cut in perfect, crustless triangles. Rolls of tamagoyaki sat next to small octopus-looking sausages, the latter skewered alongside flower-shaped vegetable slices with cat-topped toothpicks. The edamame rice was decorated with dried seaweed to resemble a panda's face. Even the fruit went above and beyond, arranged in a container to form a rainbow gradient from bright red strawberries to dark purple grapes.

Cora went for the grapes first. She was feeling fruity.

With lunch came conversation. While their breaks at work were normally filled with people watching, venting about their shifts, and comments about their food, the park had an entirely different atmosphere. As terrified as Cora was at first, Farron took the lead, generating an endless stream of topics while occasionally making observations about the kite flyers and frisbee throwers around them. Even when a subject made Cora too uncomfortable, Farron somehow knew, steering the conversation away just as they had done during their tour of the mall.

As grateful as Cora was, she was also a little guilty. While she got to learn that Farron was also the eldest of three children, also enjoyed singing offkey karaoke, and also preferred late nights over early mornings, there wasn't much Cora could share about herself. Or rather, Cora could share—she was just too scared to. Sure, Farron didn't seem to mind, but how long would that last? How long would it take for them to lose their patience with her too?

"Oh, wow, it's almost one already," Farron said, glancing at their watch.

"Hm?" Cora had been distracted when Farron lifted their tattooed arm.

Farron grinned, seemingly knowing exactly where Cora's attention was. "The time. We've been here for almost two hours."

"Really? That felt like nothing! I wish time at work would pass that quickly." Along with her time spent in her apartment, alone.

"Maybe if you came to work at Fruitastic, it could."

Cora scowled. "I'm not a traitor. I've already put in eight years of work at Cool Beans. I can't—"

She froze. Why had she given a number? Farron already knew Cora had no seniority at Cool Beans, and now they knew how long she had spent there with nothing to show for it. And Farron also knew her age. It wouldn't take them long to realize how old she was when she started working, then to question what Cora had been up to in those two years between that and high school.

"Hey, Cora," Farron said, their low, husky voice just a hint above a whisper. "You okay?"

Not at all.

"Y-yeah," Cora breathed, not sure if she could force any other sounds out from her tightening chest.

"We don't have to talk about that," Farron said, their voice somehow alternating from a distant murmur to a reverberating echo within Cora's head. "How about... Maybe... Did you want to hold hands?"

Cora's frantic thoughts slammed on the brakes, then completely derailed. Instead of worrying about Farron learning the truth about her, Cora was now focused on processing Farron's unexpected words. There was no way she heard that correctly, especially since it didn't pertain to their current conversation at all.

But at the sight of Farron's hand reaching across the mat, Cora knew she wasn't hallucinating. Unless, of course, Farron had asked her to hand them something. And if Cora gave them her hand instead of the requested item, Cora would either seem really confident or really scatterbrained.

"What was that?" Cora whispered.

Farron hesitated. "Did you...want to hold hands?"

Cora blinked, then glanced down. With Farron's words confirmed, the only thing on her mind was Farron's hand against the backdrop of assorted food and the pastel mat. Cora could almost feel their fingers wrapping around her own, just how they did briefly the day before when Farron applied medicine to her burn. It had been brief, but it had also been warm, caring, and gentle.

Cora wanted to feel that again.

"Yeah," Cora breathed.

So she reached towards Farron and took their hand in her own.

It was as if a wave of warmth rippled out from their touch, washing away Cora's worries. Their grip on her hand was sturdy yet soft; they were strong enough to hold Cora at her weakest, but gentle enough to comfort her through the storm. Their skin was smooth except for rugged calluses at the bases of their fingers that mirrored Cora's own; they wouldn't judge Cora for the path her life took. When Cora's hand shifted, they didn't flinch; they would stay by her side no matter what. Their touch alone made her feel safe.

Cora didn't want this to end.

Before she knew it, a smile crept across her face, and Cora knew it wouldn't go away even if she tried. When she spotted a similar expression on Farron, she couldn't help herself: she squealed, then pulled her knees close so she could bury her flushed face behind them.

As embarrassed as Cora was over her childish reaction, she didn't try to backtrack, especially not after hearing Farron's soothing chuckle. Any remnants of regrets vanished from Cora's mind when Farron squeezed her hand, then rubbed their thumb over the back of her palm. Even when Cora managed to raise her head, they continued, meeting Cora's gaze with their own warm eyes.

Cora could worry about the truth later. Just then, she wanted to enjoy herself.

"I like this," Cora whispered, gently squeezing Farron's hand.

Farron did the same. "Me too."