A cozy romance for the holidays. Fluffy and almost stakes free.
Meet Metawin Teepakorn owner of the small bakery Sweet Nothings.
His bakery is small and and is in an even smaller town. So it's easy to remember customer's faces.
Especially one face i...
If you are watching your blood sugar, you should not come here. Not in this place filled to the brim would all kinds of colorful confections. There are cronuts cooling at the counter, waiting to be drizzled with thick salted caramel. There are butter cakes waiting to be clothed in generous heapings of marshmallow icing and fondant flowers. There are macarons being assembled and dusted with the finest powdered sugar and topped with glossy spheres of candy. Even the coffee is sweet here. Yes, even if you order it black. The beans themselves carry notes of toffee and oranges.
The bakery isn't called Sweet Nothings for, well, nothing. It is a veritable wonderland in this cozy corner of St. Peregrine. And while it is far from a global culinary success, one could always count on Sweet Nothings to be bustling with loyal customers and the occasional tourist who has wandered into the more suburban parts of this small city.
This popularity could be because of the food. They were as delicious as they looked and smelled. And sweet toothers fall in love immediately - salivating at the swirls of color that greet them the moment they enter the door then murmuring delighted curses as they lick cream from their fingers and forks. But even if your head hurts at the thought of eating cake for breakfast or you can practically hear your doctor screaming in panic if you as much as take a lick of a marzipan, this narrator is quite sure you would still fall for this quaint little shop - or rather you would fall for its handsome young owner.
Metawin Teepakorn is a handsome that is equal parts beautiful, adorable, and masculine. Every angle reveals a different facet of attractiveness. This is greatly helped - although he really doesn't need any help at all - by the bits of flour and frosting that would inevitably find a home on his ruddy red cheeks or on the tip of his regal nose or nestled in the strands of his silky black hair.
Women would see this young proprietor and experience hunger for more than carbohydrates. Straight men would see Metawin smile and find themselves questioning if they weren't just a little bit bent. You could argue 'til your face turned blue that he isn't your type but one couldn't deny that he was objectively a feast for the eyes.
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And while most exquisite creatures didn't see the need to develop any charm, he was dripping with it. He could make the aunties blush, the grandpas feel respected, and the most prickly of customers smile.
You don't have to take my word for it. You can see him right now, taking time from kneading dough to talk to that little girl. Both the girl and her watching mother are grinning so wide, their cheeks must hurt.
He does this without thinking. It is not an act. It is not forced. Metawin Teepakorn is really just a once-in-a-lifetime sort of person. One who came very close to perfect.
It is normal then that usually most attention is on him. That it is his station that has the longest line, that his tables get the most tips, that most eyes follow him around as his flits about the shop doing his everyday duties.
