sweets and treats | bsd gn insert

1

THE MEETING OF THE GREATEST DETECTIVE

a chime rings through the air, you peek your head over the counter to see a 15-year-old boy with piercing green eyes you scan him. he's damp. you get up from your crouching position from behind the counter and stand just behind the register, waiting for the damped boy to come closer.

your hands grip a tea towel, wiping your hands off the grime and dirt that has managed to get caught onto your hands. with practised kindness, you greet the black-haired male with a charming smile, attempting to sway the young teenager into staying and hoping to buy some delicacies.

"hello, anything caught your eye?" you question, voice confident and airy. the tea towel that was once in your grip was now discarded onto the floor, just casually dropping it. you just hope that the teenager didn't notice.

you're met with silence, the damped boy ignores you with ease. too busy on looking at the displayed desserts.

you sweatdrop, intently looking at the boy before flinching when he whips his head towards you.

his words are quick and swift, pointing to various desserts through the glass display. as you watch the young teenager point towards and say out his order towards you that you can't figure out nor comprehend, you just cluelessly watch from behind the register, a stupified face adorning your once charming face.

the damped teenager finally closes his mouth and turns his full attention on you, inspecting your reaction to such a long list of desserts that he just said, even adding some words that weren't even a part of your menu to stoop you down. obviously enjoying the way you seem so confused, clueless, and flabbergasted.

"excuse me?" you question, voice laced with disbelief and bewilderment. slightly widened eyes look at the teenager's closed eyes, not believing he just said all that within 3 minutes.

"did you not listen? i said i wanted a.." the teenager quickly says his order once more, a feigned haughty expression adorning him as he rambles on and on about his order for the second time.

○( ＾皿＾)っ

it seemed like years after you finally finished the teenagers' order, placing the many plates and bowels of desserts onto the table just in front of the damp boy. the adolescent's hair that was once fully wet is now just a bit drier, a few strands of his hair curling at the end, his damp camp messily thrown over the back of the seat; threatening itself to fall down and flop towards the clean floors, and his hat also lays on the edge of the seat, sitting on top of the cape.

the boy immediately indulges in the sweets, messily eating.

you sweatdrop.

your eyes glance among the many dishes splayed across the table. those sweets took forever to make.. you feel yourself crumble internally, watching all your hard work turn into nothing, but at least the customer is happy, right?

the sound of the rain starts to pour harder, tapping against the glass in a rhythmic manner.

you stand there for a few more moments, just watching the lanky teenager devour food like a beast. you let out a mirthful laugh before walking away; getting rid of the facade of kindness.

you stuff a hand down the pocket of your apron, wanting to look at your promotion card. though, as you do so, you can't find it. you confusedly look down at the inside of your aprons pocket, not seeing any card or anything else. just plain emptiness inside.