𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 | 𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱

twelve.

You both carefully line the strawberries up in a spiral motion on each tart, being sure to mix between the room temperature and fresh berries throughout the process. Then, you pull out a small jar, filled with an almost clear yet foggy liquid with a slight brown tint.

At first, your ex-boyfriend is beyond confused, and not just because it looked like piss. Then, a lightbulb goes off in his head and he understands the mystery liquid. Sugar-water syrup, made of both ordinary white sugar and brown sugar that had been mixed with water to form a syrup of the sort. "You baking genius," he remarks, wide-eyed. He never would've thought of that.

You drizzle it artistically over your tart, then hand it to Felix. "I really am, huh?" you laugh, sprinkling the tiniest bit of salt to counter the natural bitterness in the crust while amplifying the best flavors. Then, like the professional you are, you dip your finger into the now useless bowl of custard, humming in delight as you sprinkle crushed pistachios over the delicacy. "And we're done!"

You call over Hyunjin, urging him to try your tart, and he groans at the flavor. "You are quite possibly the most wife-material person I've ever met. I might have to slide you my number after this," he jokes lightheartedly, and you laugh because no part of your little friendship was romantic at all.

"With that face and that attitude, I might have to slip you mine," you laugh back, and he gives you an eye smile before happily trying Felix's. Then Chan comes along, dimples and all, as he beams at you. "If it isn't my favorite judge."

Hyunjin throws an offended "Hey!" over his shoulder, which makes Chan shake softly in laughter. "And my favorite baker. Tell me, what do we have here?"

"Strawberry tarts, perfect for summer because of its cool temperature, and sweet flavor. Plus, I gave it a bit of a kick," you boast your baking, proud of the response you've given and the one you received from Hyunjin earlier. "Tell me how you like it."

Chan takes a large slice and bites nearly half of the slice off in one go. "Wow, this somehow tastes exactly like summer. Chan wants more."

You cut another slice, and giggle at him, "So Chan speaks in the third person when he's hungry, hm? Cute."

He nods, taking another monstrous bite as he hops over to Felix, taking note of the slight glare the younger boy gives him. Yeji comes to your stand next, loving your food as she whispers that she'll definitely vote for your victory. Oh, you have this competition in the bag.

Your competitors finish quickly after with a blueberry pie, which you're sure is less than refreshing for a summer recipe.

Yeji gets up on stage, reading from a card as she gives that bright, show-biz beam. "Both teams have impressed us greatly, and it's going to be a tough decision. Thankfully, we have one more round to decide the two bakery's fates."

"Like one of the first rounds, you will be making a signature dish," Hyunjin stands beside her, tall and confident, "but, you will be recreating the signature dish your opponent made that round instead of picking your own."

Chan is the last to step up. "Since you will be recreating these dishes, we are giving you the same amount of time the original bakers had in the first round. In other words, you have an hour and a half. Your teammates will bring you a card with the dish, plus the standard recipe, in a few minutes. When the buzzer goes off, the round begins."

A few minutes was an overstatement, because Jisung and Jeongin rush over to you in what feels like seconds, shoving the recipe cards into your hands and running off. You glance at them, a carrot cake and a tuxedo cream dessert. Simple enough, you hope.

The buzzer rings loudly, and the final round begins.

"Okay, you take the tuxedo thing, and I'll handle the carrot cake. Got it?" Felix orders, already pulling you towards the ingredients, sounding both stern and pumped. You don't mean to, but your mind thinks about how attractive Felix is, covered in flour and all concentrated–probably because this was how you usually saw him while you were dating, and it was just messing with your heart again. He waves his hand in front of your eyes, waking you up to confirm the plan. "Are you cool with that plan?"

"Uh—yeah, totally!" You reply stiffly, rushing to hastily grab the ingredients, and you don't notice how nobody dares to get too close to you. Felix was a great bodyguard, it seems.

You rush back to the table, your mini hand-held cart stocked with your ingredients, Felix trailing not far behind. You both unpack the carts and don't dare to waste your baking time—mostly because you're not too great at carrot cakes, and Felix had barely even heard of a tuxedo cream dessert.

Before you know it (aka fifteen minutes later), you've finished the cake part, and you slide the pan into the oven to bake for the next 40 minutes. As you start on the icing, you mix cream, butter, and cream cheese into a blender, then drop in the perfect amount of powdered sugar and blend it.

It would be delicious, sure, but would it win you the competition? After all, you were just making a simple carrot cake at this point–nothing special to guarantee that top spot. Naturally, you turn to the nearest person for their opinion, except that person is usually Minho or Changbin, and right now it's Felix.

You tap him nervously, and blurt your question before you have the chance to back out of it, "How do you think I can make the cake special? I don't want to be the reason we lose," flushing red when you finish because you've become so vulnerable you actually care for Felix's opinion.

He taps his cheek, then smiles. "I ate at their bakery once, and I remember they had some brown sugar in everything. So try that," he thinks for a moment more, before raising his finger, "Drained pineapple and cinnamon are part of some recipes too!"

You bow slightly in gratitude, thanking him and moving to turn around when his hand comes to your hair. "Besides, there's no way we'd ever lose because of you. You're the best baker around, right?"

You flush, because Felix hasn't complimented you like that since you started dating, and the sparkle in his eye makes your heart stop most amazingly. You nod, saying something like, "Duh!" in response, before you focus on your project.

Felix has never made a tuxedo cream dessert, and right now he wishes he were at home in his bed, clean and in fresh pajamas instead of sweating flour in a sticky apron. Still, even with his discomfort, being with you in a happy environment is enough to keep him persevering–he wanted first prize too, of course.

His boring wait is finally over after twenty minutes of allowing his gelatin creation to refrigerate. In a small saucepan, he brings one cup of cream and sugar to a simmer in the gelatin mixture, stirring it to help it dissolve nicely. When it does, he adds vanilla and some cream he prepared earlier in the round, mixing them beautifully before spooning in a chocolate layer.

Then it's back to the refrigerator for the majority of the round as he works on blending purée strawberries with sugar and brown sugar, using the tip he gave you to spice up his work a bit. He'll also be adding whip cream later, so he's confident in your team.

With the spare time, he thinks about how he wants to change your current relationship. It was cool that you two were friends again, but he's rapidly learning that he doesn't want to be just friends with you again. He had already gone down this road back in his shy days of avoiding asking you out, and he wasn't getting stuck in the friendzone because of his cowardice.

But, is he ready to move forward with you again?

And more importantly, are you?

What if you didn't really love him anymore, and you just said that to Chan because of the moment? What if you just rejected him for the jerk he'd been? What if–

He stops his thoughts, because this was exactly how he used to coax himself out of confessing. He'd give all the (bad) outcomes, and decide he had no chance, and your love was once again postponed. If he asked for another chance, and you said no, he didn't have much to lose other than his pride and dignity—though, after his behavior, he didn't have much of either left.