Choux Cream Cake

Love Yourself

Across me sat the dark-haired regular- though this time not here for coffee- tall and well-built, obvious even when he was sitting across me, emanating his usual intimidating aura even when at that moment it was I who was supposedly superior- I, who was in charge of whether or not he'd be hired. 

I was ready to put down my professionalism- skimp over his resume and not register his answers, turn him away from the job… when he told me about his daughter. 

"There's no one else to provide for her than me, and right now she needs a nanny there with her when I'm working, so there's also that expense," he tried to keep it light-hearted by smiling, scratching the back of his neck, huffing an empty laugh.

He'd had on the same expression as my father did early on before the start of his career, when I witnessed him begging his employer to not fire him for the sake of keeping me fed- this was in my toddler days, when his business was the opposite of the success it is now.

"And listen, I-," he licked his lips, then continued after a breath, "This job, it will be just a placeholder until I can find another one… you won't… you won't have to deal with me for so long." From the way his words picked up pace at every syllable, I could tell he was grasping at anything to get me to hire him. It was not unbeknownst to him that I did not like him. He and I had not conversed a full conversation before this, but he knew.

I did not look up from his papers and pretended I was carefully reading every word when really I was not, my eyes looked away briefly then back down, not giving away the sympathy in my eyes, saying after a pause, "You start training tomorrow, 10 am," I flipped the papers closed and slid them across the table, "Black top-polo or button down, whichever," I stood up and held my hand out- expectant of the basic courtesy, "Don't be late."

P'Zee shook my hand with a fervour and left the cafe with a job. 

I put down my bias in favour of making sure N'Yim was taken care of, for her, I could hire that asshole.

"Harsh," P'Saint came up behind me, and he put his hand on my shoulder, I turned to face him, "but at least you hired him."

I furrowed my eyebrows, "Why is it that you're way less angry than I am when you see him and yet it's you who got hurt?"

"I choose not to think about it," he turned to me, "it's easier."

After he said that, he continued looking at me for a while, and I furrowed my eyebrows further, puzzled at what he was looking at, "What?"

He just gave a smile and raised his fingers to pinch at my cheeks at which I exclaimed a loud protest but didn't make him let go, "Look at you," he said in a mocking tone, "Defending my honour and looking adorable while you do it, you look like an angry little bunny." He brought his face in closer and rubbed our noses together while he violently shook my face with my poor cheeks as makeshift handles. 

My protests then started to slowly turn into laughter as I held his hands that were up to my face, a smile spreading across my face and my mood lightened. 

As always his brightness ate away the bitterness that was sometimes more present in me than I meant it to be. It was like when he looked at me, I could breathe again, my blood would start pumping and flowed warmth throughout my body, and golden ribbons of all things good wrapped around my negative thoughts. 

I was convinced he really was a Saint; bringing light to my life. 

We stayed there as he inched closer, my back against the table, my hands over his on my cheeks, our eyes locked, and noses almost touching. We breathed each other's air, the surroundings melting away in our peripheral, it was only us. My heart started beating rapidly, yet somehow it also felt calm. I felt content yet I also wanted more.