Choux Cream Cake

Half Naked Baker

Past peak hour, the crowd had dissipated and few quiet patrons laid in their chairs with their coffees, cakes, and computers. The pink-haired monkey left for his break, leaving me to converse with empty air. I heard a murmur go through the walls coming from the kitchen. Out of curiosity, I followed it, standing just next to the door, listening in just for something to do.

"So, uh, I need a favour. Can I crash at your place for a few weeks?" His voice sounded meek, the words reluctant to be uttered. The gears in my head turned, wondering what the reason for him staying at anyone else's place but his own was- perhaps a girlfriend had kicked him out, or he simply wanted to crash because he wanted to get out of his house. "Just got evicted," my eyes widened in shock, head turning sharply. He what? He got evicted, which meant that he was as good as homeless. I felt a deep pang of sympathy for his situation, as well as imagined the immense fear of being faced with the situation where you would risk living without shelter, dependent on other people's generosity.

But it then clicked in my head: I could help him.

"Hey, you're homeless, right? Come live with me!" Sounded too aggressive, so I asked him if he wanted to be my roommate. "I'd love to, Perth, but... I don't think I have funds for rent right now, have you asked P'Plan?"

"He rejected me," a lie, "And about the rent," I scratched my head, leaning against the table, "I mean, you work for me, right? So until your first paycheck, you can pay me some other way," I smiled.

He looked apprehensive, "How?"

"Your choux creams."

We made a deal: he would live in the spare room of my condo in exchange for choux cream puffs until he could pay his rent monetarily. It was a win-win, he'd get to not be homeless and I'd get my cream puffs.

The last customer packing up his laptop and finishing his overdosed black coffee signified the end of service, he closed the door behind him and walked out into the dark night. P'Plan finished his final round of cleaning as did I, then he folded his apron and stuffed it into a compartment. He left, too. I was wondering when P'Saint would walk out, I waited for about thirty minutes and still he made no appearance. I entered the kitchen, and the smell of caramel and flour wafted through my nostrils. I walked toward him, his arm was whipping something in a large bowl, "What are you doing?" I asked curiously over his shoulder.

"I'm whipping the cream for the puff," we had no more customers to serve, so I was puzzled as to why he was still up and going at this timing, it's not like it was his first night here.

"For what?"

"For you," he said non-committedly, my heart skipped a beat. "For the rent, remember?" I did remember, but I had no idea he was planning on baking them now. He put down the bowl, then swiped up a dollop of cream on his finger, bringing it up to my lips, "Taste it for me?" I hesitated, then I moved closer and closed my lips over his index finger, and licked the cream off the pad of his finger. I blushed at the intimacy of the action. Its taste was unique to his technique, or maybe his hands were the secret. "It's good."

He took the puffs that were cooling in the corner and cut them in half, revealing the shell for the cream to fill. I thought he was going to pipe in the cream, but instead he put a sprinkle of cocoa powder inside just at the inner surface, "It's unsweetened so it's a bit bitter, the mixture I added in has a bit of powdered sugar to offset it," he explained as he sprinkled it over the puffs. His eyes were fixed on his pastries, and my eyes were fixed on him. I looked at the serious expression of focus on his face, contrasting the usual angelic aloofness he often exuded. It was charming, and I found it admirable. I chose not to fight the smile that grew on my face. He piped in the cream and sprinkled another light round of cocoa powder, then closed them with a shell. He piped golden brown salted caramel on the top, the lines dripping off the spheres. The egg-washed shells were golden brown and sheened perfectly, and the caramel on the tops were glistening. They tasted as precious as they looked.