Sweet Dreams // A Tom Holland Imagine

Part one // A long day

Guys this is my first try at writing so tell me what you think! I'll update part 2 soon if you guys are interested :)
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I dusted the flour off my hands and wiped the sweat that was starting to form on my forehead. I looked around the room, checking my chores off the list in my head as I finished up. The familiar sound of my cherry converse on the hardwood floor echoed around the empty café; the heavenly scent of fresh bread filled my nostrils.

I frantically looked around for my keys, as soon I realised they weren't on the counter. Crouching down beneath a nearby table,  I heard faint panting and the jangle of my keys behind me. As I straightened up a smile crept up my face.

'Dolly,' I sighed. Adoration lighting up my tired features. She looked up at me with her pure, innocent eyes. I shook my head, laughing at her puppy face. Dolly was a blue staffy; everyone thinks they're scary and vicious but my girl is a real softie.

I unlocked the cafe door and shooed a protesting Dolly upstairs before any customers came. I did not need any health code violations right now, I had enough on my plate already. I would miss the company though. I tapped my fingers on the hardwood counter, eyeing the cakes. Trying distract myself by thinking of anything except food, or Dolly alone upstairs, I set about making some tea. I glanced up at the clock, ten o' two. This was going to be an incredibly long day.

'Thats okay Mrs Perkins, I'll see you tommorow. Have fun at Bingo!' I chuckled to myself as the old lady exited the door, she was so sweet and always complimenting me. Letting out a long sigh I peeked at the time on my phone. Only three o' clock? I groaned to myself, three hours left. I was so lost in thought that I didn't hear the timer for my cakes. A polite cough from a young blond man near the window quietly jolted me out of my thoughts. Spinning on my heel, I ran to the kitchen just as a dark haired man sprinted through the door. I was already in the kitchen searching for my oven mitts to save my red velvets from burning just as a voice called out from the front. 'Can I use your bathroom please, love?'

'Up the stairs, first door on your left!'  I shouted at him without really comprehending it.

'Hot hot hot hot!' I exclaimed and I put the cakes down on the counter. Phew, I had reached then just in time. I looked around the cafe, knowing that something had slipped my mind. I walked over to the rustic wood table by the window where the man had sat minutes before and I collected his generous tip. There was a tiny piece of scrap paper beneath the mug on the table. I picked it up and examined it, on the front there was a phone number and scribbled on the back the words;

Call me later sweetheart ;)

He didn't look that bad so I slipped the note into my apron pocket for later and collapsed onto a sofa. I was so exhausted.

I ran the family bakery alone in my hometown of Queens. It wasn't much, and it took a lot of effort but it was my passion. I had developed many close friendships with my regulars over the years and everyone was always so friendly. I had been in charge of The Buttered Crumpet since my mom passed away a few years back. She had named it as she'd moved from London to be with my dad here in the US. She always said that the food was much better over back home. Nowadays, my dad is in elderly care, and now its up to me to withhold the Jenkins family tradition.

'A blue staffy, right?'