Sugar (Harry Styles)

3.

The day went by quickly in the bakery but with Daphne’s help it didn’t seem to cause Harry the stress that it had earlier during the week. It was amazing how one extra person could lift the burden off his shoulders. He could breathe easy and finish some orders that were due for the weekend while Daphne worked up at the front and kept the shop clean after the morning rush.

By the late afternoon most of their pastries were sold out and Harry closed up the shop. He drew the blinds and flipped over the sign to “Closed” before he found a seat at one of the small tables he had in the corner. Harry sighed deeply and freed his hair from his headband before ruffling his fingers through it.

Daphne stood in the open frame of the kitchen, her body resting against its wood molding as she watched Harry close up for the day. She had just gotten done washing the dishes and was drying her hands as she studied Harry’s body language. She could tell that he was stressed out, his mind was running around, and behind all of that there was a bit of sadness.

“Hey,” Daphne peeped from the kitchen frame, “There’s still a couple scones left. You never tried any of my baked sweets. I think you ought to. Y’know, in case you want to fire me for being a terrible baker.”

Daphne’s voice shook Harry from his stare and his lips pulled up into a smile. Using one of his large feet he gently pushed the other chair out from the table with ease, silently inviting her to sit down with him. He rested his head in his hand and gave her a bit of a smile.

“You’re right, who knows I could absolutely hate them. What if you poisoned all my customers? Made them sick!? I wasn’t watching you properly today to know that.” He gave her a wink and watched as the girl lifted her apron over her head and draped it on the counter before pulling out two of the scones from the glass case and swiveled her body around the corner and finally rested in the seat across from him.

“Easy. I’ll eat one too. If they are poisoned then I will get sick as well.” Daphne moved to place a scone in front of him before she quickly switched it with hers and then switched it back again.

“Cheeky,” Harry murmured before he sat back and broke into the scone and began to eat silently with Daphne. As he took the first bite, he smiled at Daphne, watching as she looked on with eagerness as she popped her own piece into her mouth. She wanted him to like it, she was eager to hear what he had to say.

As he began to eat there was something different about the scone. He couldn’t tell what it was but it made him feel… relieved. He couldn’t quite tell if it was because it did taste good or if it was something else. He looked up at Daphne and smiled at her, watching as her own tension melted away at his dimpled expression.

“This is quite good,” Harry murmured, “You followed the recipe didn’t you?” He asked curiously. He couldn’t remember how many times he had eaten a scone from the bakery and none tasted quite like this.

“Down to the last grain of sugar,” Daphne replied with a bit of worry, “But you like them, right?” She asked as she began to eat another corner of her scone.

“They’re wonderful,” he mused, his eyes now looking at the scone. There had to be something more to them. Berries perhaps? Maybe it was a bit of vanilla? He couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Love,” Daphne cooed.

“Yes?” Harry’s green eyes found her gray ones and she laughed softly, the sound hitting his core.

“No, not you.” She teased, “I did add an extra ingredient. It’s love.”

“C’mon,” Harry egged, “That’s it? That’s the big secret!?”