Love Over A Croissant

Natsu's POV

Being a baker wasn't much of a job, but the hours were good, the pay was enough to cover the rent, the staff was awesome, and I got to eat pastries for free. A definite bonus!

Things were pretty boring until ... he walked in. Right at eight-twelve.

I didn't usually pay that much attention to customers, especially during the morning rush. Smile, take the order, take their card, hand them a pastry, wish them a good day. But with him, there was something else. In general, he was nothing special, a sleepy look, hair still damp from his morning shower, dressed in a suit and tie, ready for some desk job downtown.

Maybe it was the messy shock of black hair and the scar above his brow that gave him that bad boy look I was so weak for.

"What'll you have?" I asked, same as I said to every customer.

I liked how he stared at me, and only then realized he should read the menu board.

A croissant. It sounded like he picked the first thing he saw.

"Anything else?"

Nope. He paid with cash, and I got his pastry.

"Okay, here ya go!"

He not so much left the bakery as fled with a blush creeping up to his ears. Sometimes, I really wished we were allowed to ask the customers out, or at least ask for their name and number. All I could do was pray he would come back some day, but I knew not to get my hopes up.

Yet the next morning, the door chimed, and I saw him, his eyes instantly seeking mine. My heart leaped, and I'm sure my smile was brighter than it had been all week.

"Good morning! What will it be?"

Croissant. Plain. I handed it to him, and our hands touched for a fraction of a second. His touch was cold, probably from the chill outside, whereas I was suddenly made aware of how warm my hands were from handling the oven all morning. He muttered a thanks and once again fled with a blush. The tingle of his cold hands lingered on mine. I had a strong desire to warm up his whole body.

"Ooh, look at you! Making the boys blush."

I glared at my coworker Loke. He flirted all the time and got in trouble for it. I wasn't that interested in the customers usually, but this guy...

Why couldn't he order a coffee, so I'd get a chance to ask for his name and write it on his cup with a little happy face? And why did he have to pay in cash, rather than a card so I could see who he was? It was too weird to just ask "Hey, what's your name," although Loke did that to ladies all the time. I really, really wanted to know his name.

I waited eagerly the next day, watching the clock. He must have been going on bus schedules, because he was there at the exact same time, eight-twelve.

"You're back!"

And again.

"Oh hey! The usual?"

And again.

"Perfect timing! I have your croissant hot and ready for you."

Monday to Friday, always at eight-twelve, always the same order, always leaving with brighter cheeks.

I grew eager to go to work in the dark morning hours, because I knew I would get to see my croissant boy. The morning rush went by in a sea of blank faces as I waited for him to show up, always at the same time, always the same order. After he left, I felt light, floating, lost in those dreamy eyes. His morning croissant was bringing us together. Or at least, I really hoped so.