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He only continued to smile at Neymar. "I couldn't be happier for the two of you. I still consider her one of the best things to ever happen to me. Even though, you know, things didn't work out between us."
----
It was pink. So damn pink. And fluffy. As far as a desserts could really be fluffy, of course. Neymar eyed the huge monster of a cake sitting in its box incredulously. Hm. I suppose the decorations count for fluff, he thought, giving the pink and white feathers on the top a flip with his finger.
"I hope it's to your liking," the baker said from across the counter. He had a smile on his face – a huge, dorky and bright one, showing white teeth on a tan face. Far too attractive to work in the back of a bakery.
Or so Neymar's sister Rafaella had muttered just a few moments earlier, when said eye-candy had greeted them and then gone back into the back of the little bakery to retrieve the dish Neymar had ordered for his girlfriend's birthday (which was today).
"I gotta be honest, though," the baker continued. "The last time someone ordered feather decorations on a cake was a long time ago. Same motive though." His expression turned soft, apparently caught up in the memory.
A sigh sounded next to Neymar and he rolled his eyes. "Yes well," he responded dryly. "It's not my taste that needs to be satisfied with all this..." He wriggled his fingers over the cake. He couldn't help but say it. "Fluff."
That was the understatement of the century, but the baker didn't need to know that. Because his girlfriend of a little over a year was – among other things – the self-proclaimed number one Helly Kitty fan in the world. She owned so much pinky, glittery and – yes – fluffy stuff with the stupid cat printed on it that Neymar was kind of worried about his home overflowing with the stuff as soon as she'd finally stop acting stupid and finally move in with him.
But what could you do, right? He was head over heels in love with that girl. In spite of Hello Kitty and all that crap.
Neymar gave the cake one last incredulous look, the damn cat mocking him with her stupid red bow. Then he put the lid back on the box.
"Then I hope whoever gets this will love it just as much as the girl that I made this for a couple of years ago," the baker replied.
"Oh, I'm sure she will!" Rafaella practically beamed at him, batting the eyelashes, working the smile, tilting the head. The whole girl flirtation package.
The baker returned the smile in a friendly and – surprisingly – non-flirty way, which got him at least some points in Neymar's book.
Neymar scoffed silently when he saw her disappointed look while the baker packed up the cake in a neat looking take-away box. When he pushed the box across the counter, his expression turned contemplative. "Uhm, I hope you don't mind me asking," he started.
