remember me | kth

trois

; nouveau départ, new beginnings
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— GETTING A JOB at your father's bakery was easier said than done. Workers had come and gone over the years, some citing conflicting schedules as their reason for resigning and others blatantly blaming your father's strict approach to enforcement when it came to his employees. You couldn't blame him for being that way, really. After all, the business had been in the family for years, the pastries a sweet testament to your grandparents and their grandparents before that. Belle Epoque had a reputation for being one of the best patisseries for miles - admittedly not hard in a small town like this, but an accomplishment none the less - so it was unsurprising that your father took great pride in ensuring everything was at it's best, including the employees. Come to think of it, you were the only worker who wasn't fired after a few months on the job, probably because the only thing above the bakery in importance to your father was his family.

"Papa!" You had announced upon entering Belle Époque's swing doors, surprising a couple eating breakfast at one of the high seats overlooking the harbor through the tall glass windows. Your father was behind the counter, arranging the freshly baked breads of all shapes, sizes and varieties on a wire rack behind him. A line was already forming to buy the warm loaves, the smell comforting and delicious. Your sudden arrival drew your father away from his ministrations, wiping flour from his palms onto the sides of his black uniform as he spun in search of you. His eyes met yours immediately, worry filled as he looked you up and down once, then twice to check for any obvious bodily harm.

"What is wrong, mon amour?" He questioned, anxiety evident in his voice. An elderly man in line for your famous croissants tutted when your father pushed away the five euro bill he held out in payment in favor of slipping beneath the counter to pull your chin into his hands. He smelled like gooey danishes and apple turnovers and you breathed in the scent gladly, a feeling of home washing over you.

"Nothing, I have good news!" You pulled on his wrists, loosening his grip on your face. He cocked his head to the side, wrinkling his nose in relief when he realized you were not in any immediate danger. "I found you a new worker!"

A large poster was taped to the glass doors, labelled HELP WANTED, advertising the shortness of staff at the bakery. You had put it up yourself weeks ago and still nobody had come in to query about the position, probably put off by the stories of your fathers harshness when it came to cleaning the kitchens or baking the perfect pastries. It was becoming urgent - you were overworked, trying to balance your kitchen duties with stock responsibilities and working the counter so you were pretty sure your father would accept anybody who was brave enough to apply.

"Eh? I thought nobody around here wanted the job?"

"They don't." You say with a roll of the eyes, referencing the many conversations you had had regarding his unforgiving attitude. "He isn't from here."

His eyebrow cocked uncertainly. "You trust someone you don't know to work here?"

"Papa, I do know him." Although you had only met a few days ago your time with Taehyung felt like a lifetime. "I promise you can trust him."

"I don't know about this."

"Please, Papa! He is hard working, I wouldn't come to you if I didn't believe it myself." Your father's face was still stony and unimpressed, quizzically considering your proposition. "S'il vous plaît?"

Your pleading cracked his resolve. You could tell by the way he softened, palms squeezing your shoulders gently as he clicked his tongue in disappointment at his own inability to say no. "Fine. But he's on stock duty for now - keep him away from my kitchen, you hear me? - Leon will be here with this weeks stock in twenty minutes."

Practically jumping with glee, you rip the poster from the window and triumphantly toss it into the trash. "I won't disappoint you, Papa! He won't disappoint you."

"Just bring him in." He tuts, waving you away as he moved his attention to the grumpy queue of impatient customers. "Twenty minutes!"

His reminder sent you into action, grabbing two aprons from the hook and rushing out into the street, scanning side to side until you finally laid eyes on Taehyung. He stood with his back pressed to the brick wall of the bakery, toe of his boot kicking stones into the middle of the cobbled road. He seemed nervous, eyes trained to the ground as he mumbled various greetings under his breath, apparently preparing for an introduction to your father. He snapped out of it quickly once the slam of the door gave away your presence, granting you a smile as you approached.

"How did it go?" His cane clicked as he closed the distance between you.

"You start work in twenty minutes," You throw one of the white aprons you clutched in your hands, smirking as he fumbled to catch the flimsy fabric. "Get to work, kid."

"You're kidding?" He exclaimed, eyes as wide as his open mouth as he watched you fasten your own apron around your waist. A small nod was all it took for him to explode, discarding his cane all together as he scooped you up at the waist, bouncing up and down excitedly. The loss of gravity was unexpected, causing a squeal to escape your lips against his neck as he whispered a repetitive mantra of thank you's into your hair.

The moment was cut short by a searing pain in Taehyung's thigh, causing him to stagger backwards under your weight and reminding him of his still weakened state of health. Your feet touched the ground again as he grasped the cane, attempting to cover the heave of his chest with a smile.

"No need for thank you's, just don't make me regret this." You mumbled in response.

Taehyung's grin widened as he fumbled to tie his own apron around his waist. Noticing his struggle you slipped behind him to tie the strings into a knot yourself.

Once his apron was secure, he turned to face you again, pulling your face into his palms. "I promise, you won't!"

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