pupsick ❧ l.jn | ✔

book two ❧ [vi]

Unlocking the back door to Half Moon Bakery the next morning, you flicked the lights on and led the way in with a skip in your step. Jeno trailed in behind you still rubbing sleep out of his eyes. Yeah, he was never going to be a morning wolf, especially when he now insisted on accompanying you when you went in at 4 a.m. to do the pre-opening kitchen prep, instead of coming in for the front opening at 6 a.m. like he used to. You secured your apron around your waist, put on your music, washed your hands, and got to work.

While it was more tiring to have back-to-back post-closing and opening shifts, you tended to prefer being able to bake your own doughs and loaves that you prepared the night before rather than ones that someone else had done. Not that you were necessarily a perfectionist or elitest about it (okay maybe a little bit that), but it was always satisfying to see the end product of something that you had started. To work on something from start to finish.

You hadn't kept track of time, nor even of where your boyfriend was, until Jeno popped his head into the kitchen—you admittedly hadn't realized he'd left it—to announce, "T-minus ten minutes until opening."

"Got it, thanks, baby," you smiled up at him, hands preoccupied with dusting powdered sugar over some pastries.

When you came to a stopping point with that task, you went to pause your own music, and could finally hear Jeno's floating in from the front. You took joy in the small delight of Jeno's voice being carried back too as he conversed with customers, smiling to yourself when you could hear his voice pitch up if he got particularly excited about whatever they were talking about, or drop with confusion as he would ask a customer to repeat an order that either didn't make sense or he didn't hear.

As you carried out a tray of cream-filled croissants—matcha flavored and strawberry flavored—you kept your eyes focused on your destination, the display case of pastries up by the register. You knew that these were a popular item, and usually worked to refill them first. There were only two matcha ones and a strawberry left, so it looks like you brought out a fresh batch just in the nick of time.

"Ah, perfect timing, Y/N!" Jeno's voice made you stop dead in your tracks as you were setting the fresh tray on top of the case and were about to grab the old one.

You stood up straight, looking over at him in alarm. Three young kids, a dryad boy, human boy, and phoenix girl were at the register, barely big enough to see over the counter, accompanied by who you guessed to be the phoenix's father.

"Hello," you nodded to them politely, then looked to Jeno for an explanation. "Is something wrong, Jeno?"

"Y/N here is our baker, she makes all the delicious treats you guys eat," Jeno said to the kids. "Including those brownies you loved so much."

The adult phoenix spoke up, addressing you, "They loved the limited-edition peanut butter brownies you all had in the summer. They come in and beg poor Jeno here for them almost every day. I've tried to explain what limited-edition means to them, but..." He trailed off, giving you a sheepish shrug.

"They were sooo good!" The phoenix exclaimed, clutching her stomach dramatically.

"Why did you take them away?" The dryad asked curiously, a slight pout on his face that matched that of the toad perched on his shoulder.

"Is it 'cause nobody was eating them? 'Cause we'll come eat all of them!" The human gestured to the three kids.

You chuckled, "It makes me really happy that you guys liked them so much. Thank you."