Imagines and One-Shots (Book Two)

This Town (Jack Barakat) - Part 1

The current situation in which you'd found yourself certainly wasn't one that you had planned to be in that day. Of course, no one ever really plans to steal a loaf of bread and have the baker chase after them, do they? But that was exactly what happened to you two minutes ago. You thought the baker was distracted enough for you to sneak in and snatch the bread, but clearly, you were wrong.

As you rounded the corner – the last corner before you were convinced you could lose him – you slammed right into someone's chest. The man luckily grabbed your waist before you could fall backwards. You were breathing heavily and when you looked up to see who was holding onto you, it definitely didn't make it any better.

"Late for something, Miss?" the Prince chuckled.

"I-I-I'm sorry, Y-Your Highness," you stuttered, "I di- I didn't mean-"

"Does anyone ever mean to run into someone?" he smiled, letting you know he wasn't upset about it, "If I may ask though; Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"Hey!" you heard behind you.

Jack watched your eyes widen and you broke free from his arms only to hide behind him. He felt your hand shaking as you grabbed the back of his shirt, the bread still in your other hand. He looked up and found the bakery owner turning the corner. The man's eyes widened when he saw the Prince, but narrowed the second he noticed you behind him.

"You," he growled, pointing at you, "You little thief."

"Excuse me," Jack interrupted, "What's going on?"

"This lowly peasant girl stole the bread from my shop," he huffed.

"Now, sir, there's no need for name-calling."

"She is a thief!"

"She's still a lady," Jack stated authoritatively.

"She is a lady that deserves to rot in a jail cell."

"Sir," he repeated, "I'm sure she has a very good reason and I think we should hear her out." The owner grumbled quietly as Jack turned to you, causing you to release his shirt. "Why didn't you buy the bread?" he asked.

"My brothers made me because we can't afford it," you whispered, looking down at your feet.

"Did you explain that to him?" You barely nodded, making the Prince look back at the baker. "And you couldn't give her one measly loaf of bread?" he raised his eyebrows.

"I have to make a living somehow, Your Highness!" he exclaimed, offended the Prince was taking your side, "Everyone else has to pay around here! She's no exception!"

"How many loaves of bread do you throw out every week?" The baker didn't respond, making Jack's jaw tighten slightly. "How many, sir?"

He sighed, "Every week? At least seven."

"Seven?" his jaw nearly dropped, "You throw out seven loaves of bread a week and you can't spare one for someone who can't afford it?"

"That would be correct," he stated smugly.

"God, there should be laws against that," Jack muttered under his breath.

"But there aren't, Your Highness, and I'm not about to start making exceptions now," he said, holding his hand out to you.

You paused for a moment, only to have him narrow his eyes and growl quietly again. You swallowed thickly, slowly handing back the bread. He snatched it out of your hand, making you jump.