Canvas & Crumbs

IV

Waves of Palettes

The next day dawned dazzling and clear, the sky a flawless expanse of blue that promised a beautiful day ahead. As I usually do, I arrived at the bakery early, the quiet streets still waking up around me. I unlocked the door and stepped inside, the familiar scent of flour and sugar already welcoming me as I flipped on the lights and began my morning routine.

But today, there is a new sense of anticipation humming beneath the surface. My thoughts keep drifting to North and the conversation we had shared the day before. His words had stayed with me through the night, lingering in my mind like the memory of a sweet dream.

A painting of our sceneries together—what would it look like? What emotions would it capture? The thought of seeing myself and the bakery through North's eyes filled me with a mix of exhilaration and anxiousness.

As I kneaded the dough for the morning's bread, I found myself humming softly.

The rhythm of my work matching the steady beat of my heart. I have always loved baking, the way it allowed me to create something concrete, something that could bring comfort and joy to others.

"Ah," I stretched my arms as I yawn.

I love waking up this early to get stuff ready for the day. I always want to spend my time towards something that is productive. Gladly, I have my own bakery for that cause.

The morning passed in a blur of activity, the usual stream of customers coming in for their coffee and pastries, exchanging pleasantries with me as I serve them with my usual warm smile. But through it all, I find myself glancing at the door more often than usual, my heart fluttering every time the bell above it jingled.

And then, just before the afternoon lull, North walked in.

I feel a smile tug at my lips as I gazed him approach the counter, his usual sketchbook in hand. There was something different about him today—an extra spring in his step, a glow in his eyes that I hadn't seen before.

"Good morning," he greeted me with a grin, his voice will never fail to carry a warmth that make my heart skip a beat.

His scent lingers with me as he speaks.

Oh North. . . you have no idea how I much I want to scream right now.

Stop making me fall!