Allen and (y/n) had surprisingly become close friends ever since they had first met in the alley, but (y/n) was still hesitant whenever she was around him.

Allen had immediately taken note of her aura, and thus concluded that she didn't like him.

However, Allen's new self-esteem had taken a hold of him once (y/n) had invited him to spend a day with her at the veterinary clinic so that they could hang out after her shift.

She didn't have to work long, for it was a weekday and her colleague had surprisingly came back to pick up their shift again, and so Allen had gladly accepted her invitation.

"So this is what you do all day?" Allen asked, his tone flat. "You just give shots to people's pets?"

"Oh, I do much more than that, actually," (y/n) replied. "I prescribe medicine for them, do X-Rays, cast sprained limbs, the whole works."

"So nothing that you do is boring?" Allen wondered.

"Nope," (y/n) smirked. "What about you? I'm sure that killing people for food and other messed up stuff gets pretty boring pretty fast, right?"

Allen had "accidentally" told (y/n) all about him and his "gang," and so she would always tease him about it just for the fun of it.

"I won't lie," Allen laughed. "It does get pretty boring."

"To make it fun," (y/n) began, "do you have to come up with all of these new ways to kill someone?"

"I don't know," Allen answered, suddenly becoming guarded. "Why doesn't this bother you? You know that I'm a killer, you know that all of my friends are killers, so why aren't you reporting us?"

"Because I believe that people can change," she explained. "You...will change, right?"

"I'm not sure," Allen sighed. "I mean, it's a pretty easy lifestyle if you get used to it. Not much work involved, plus the night hours are usually the most fun, anyway."

"So I guess that me becoming a killer and joining your gang is out of the question?" (y/n) teased.

"Hhh," Allen huffed, sticking his tongue out at her. "Jerk."

"You're such a sore loser," she giggled. "What? Are you too afraid to be shown up by a girl?"

"Are you too scared to get killed by the leader of my gang if you step one foot into the house?" Allen challenged, clearly not messing around.

"Whoa," (y/n) cringed in fear. "No need to escalate the conversation. I was just joking, all right?"

Allen sighed, backing off in guilt.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "It's just...you're one of the only friends that I have, and...I don't want to lose you over something so small like entering the house."

"I understand," she softly assured him. "I come from a pretty whacked up home myself."

"You do?" he questioned.

"Mhmm," (y/n) nodded. "Anyway, onto a happier topic. What do you want to do after I'm all done here?"

"Maybe go out for some coffee or something?" Allen suggested.

"Starbucks sounds great," (y/n) grinned.

"What?" Allen gasped. "No way! Caribou is way better!"

"Just because it's growing in business, doesn't mean that it's better," (y/n) countered, crossing her arms to assert her dominance.

"Well, what's so great about Starbucks?" Allen scoffed.

"Everyone there are...like...super nice?" (y/n) replied. "People at Caribou just give me the creeps."

And that was how the argument about coffee shop superiority between (y/n) and Allen began, the two of them arguing the whole way to their coffee destination, which ended up being Dunn Brothers instead.