𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸'𝚖 𝙶𝚘𝚗𝚎 | 𝙰. 𝙰𝚛𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚝

• 01 •

"Get a move on will ya?" Your father peaks his head into the kitchen where you're currently filling pastries with a strawberry cream. "There's a line of people out the door."

"Almost done," you blow the stray pieces of hair from your face and move your nose around to get rid of the itchy feeling.

"When you're finished, bring them out and put them in the case. I'm sure everyone wants to try your new recipe," he shuts the swinging door and leaves you to your work.

You take hold of the last rectangle shaped treat and shove the thin tube into the soft center of the pastry while squeezing in the rest of the filling. With a satisfied grin, you pick up the tray and make your way to the glass case in the front of the cafe.

"They look delicious sweetheart," your mom opens the sliding door and makes room for your new dessert. "I'm glad you made a lot."

"Of course," you bend down and slide the tray onto the rack and then make sure they're lined up symmetrically before standing and closing the case.

Your eyes scan the room, seeing the entire store is filled with people and their lively expressions. It's been a while since it's been busy like this and you suppose it has to do with the flyers you put up around the city. Your parents opened this cafe before you were born and it never got the attention it deserved. Now that you're playing a bigger role in the business, you decided to take charge and try to get more customers. Looks like your plan worked.

"Take over at the register for your mother. She needs to start making the quiches," your dad orders from where he's brewing tea at the counter, his broad shoulders blocking the view of what kind.

You strip off the apron that's tied around your body and toss it in a bundle on the shelf beneath the register while your mom wipes some strawberry cream off your face.

"Such a mess," she shakes her head with a smile.

You purse your lips, wondering if you actually look bad or if she was just playing around with you. There's a lot of people in line and you'd rather look clean and put together for them so that maybe the store will get more money.

A smile touches your lips that is maybe too enthusiastic for how you truly feel, "Hello, what can I get for you?" The man steps forward, his eyes cold and expression blunt. If he wasn't so petite you'd be scared, but even so... he truthfully does intimidate you.

"One cup of your best tea," he mutters and reaches into his pocket.

"Anything to eat, sir?"

"No."

You nod and tell him his total, then take the money from his hand and place it inside the metal container. You write down the order and slide it over to your dad who's making drinks today.

The man moves off to the side to wait for his tea and you lift your eyes to the next person in line. His soft features and gentle gaze seem to comfort you from the chaotic feeling you've been clinging to since people began filtering in to the store. It's like you finally can catch your breath.

"Hello," the smile this time is genuine as you admire the boy in front of you. He looks like he's your age and he also looks new to the neighborhood. You've grown up here and know everyone that takes up residence in the area, so he's either passing through or new to the area. You're hoping for the latter. "What can I get for you?"

"One of those things you just put out," he points at the strawberry cream pastries in the case.

"You'll be the first one to try them, you'll have to tell me what you think," a warm heat flutters to your face as his eyes light up.