Don't Criticize me!

⇠Hate Cookies⇢

~Nigel P.O.V~

Nigel flung the tan dough onto the counter, snarling loudly as his hands trembled and his eyes went blurry with tears. Oscar had only been gone for a few days, and the younger man wasn't sure how to feel about it. Although the elder man was aloof and tended to keep everyone close to him, there was a part of him that felt resentment. Nigel was crazy to expect it would last because he always experienced this. After settling in and allowing anyone to worm their way into his heart, everything would crash and burn. Tears streamed down his pale cheeks, and the anger in his chest appeared to flicker. He rolled the biscuits out slowly, chewing the inside of his cheek. Not long later, the rage gave way to regret—he shouldn't have forced the critic to pick, and it was clear that he was passionate about his work. Nigel was the only other thing he appeared to adore.

With a swift motion, the younger man cleared his eyes of the tears, and Nigel began slicing the cookies. He rolled them into little balls and then placed them on the pan; he then placed the pan in the oven. Nigel leaned against the counter, shakily exhaling as he ran a hand over his face. Wincing a little, he took his phone out of his apron and thought he should text or call the man. Shoving the device back into his pocket, the younger male turned his attention toward the frosted cupcakes, sighed, and started stirring the buttercream. "Dude, are you doing alright? You're over-mixing the buttercream." A shorter male asked, appearing next to him.

Nigel rolled his eyes at the other male. His eyes flicked down toward the pot of frosting growling and tossed the ruined buttercream. Resting his hands against the counter, as his shoulders tensed slightly. "F-Fine... Just distracted." He sighed.

The male snorted, rolling his eyes as he smirked. Folding his arms over his chest, "I can see that, dude. What's going on with you? Got in a fight with your girlfriend or something?" He joked. When Nigel didn't answer, the smaller male's smile faded. "Dude, I was joking. Did you guys break up?" He questioned, setting a hand on his shoulder.

The baker inhaled and exhaled softly, shaking his head. "Something like that; he travels around a lot, so he wouldn't be able to stay here. We tried to come up with a solution, but I only got angry and made him choose me or his job." He explained, running a hand through his hair.

The co-worker arched an eyebrow, brows pinching into a confused expression. "What was his job?" He asked.

The male ran a hand down his face; half of him wanted to lie. But he could never lie to his co-workers; they always had a way of finding things out, which was a blessing and a curse at the same time. He loved his co-workers, but sometimes he would like to have some sort of privacy in his life. The younger male inhaled and exhaled softly. "Food Critic," Nigel replied.

The other male barked out a laugh. "Anyone I know?" He beamed.

The baker made a face, letting out a small snort while rolling his eyes again. "I'm not going to tell you then; you'll just try and find him and scare him." He teased.

The shorter male scoffed, putting a hand on his chest. "Would not!" He shouted. They fell into a comfortable silence until the shorter male started speaking again. "Do you think he was the one?" He asked.

Nigel's eyes fell to the ground, his heart beating against his chest. Was Oscar the one? If he was honest with himself, feeding the older male that night unlocked something primal in the baker. He hadn't stopped thinking about that night or the look on Oscar's face as he whimpered and cradled his bloated stomach. There were many times that the baker wanted to recreate that night; he was honestly going to ask the other male if he was comfortable with another feeding session before they got into a fight. "I'm not sure; it felt real when we were together." Nigel finally responded.

The smaller male nodded his head, giving the baker's shoulder a small squeeze. "Then maybe you should call him or even text him if you're not ready to hear his voice." He suggested, before pushing himself off the counter to return to work. The younger man stopped at a neighboring Chinese restaurant after work and stared down at his phone while he waited for his order. The younger man hurried out of the tiny eatery as soon as his food was ready, ignoring the unease that was beginning to grow in his chest. It didn't take long for him to get back to his apartment, kicking the door closed with his foot as he set the bag down on the counter. Nigel plated his dinner and then made his way to the living room, where he turned on the TV and browsed the stations until he found something. He picked up his phone, typed a fast message, and then stared at it for a while before shaking his head.

After three hours of trying to think of something to say, but his brain was too clouded and muddied with questions. He wasn't sure where it went wrong, one moment they were living a fairytale dream and the next they were fighting. All he could think of was something that would exacerbate the situation or let feelings that Nigel believed were buried rise to the surface and rear their ugly heads. It was mostly the baker's fault for the fight, and he shouldn't have gotten angry, but the older man couldn't expect Nigel to uproot his entire existence and follow him around the world. Letting out a soft sigh, Nigel raised his head, unlocked his phone, and stared at the text. Anxiety and fear festered in his stomach once again.

The message staring back at him seemed to mock him as he grimaced slightly. I know I told you to delete my number; I was angry. Please, can we talk? -Nigel