seraphineafterdark
Soleil is twenty-five, and holding her little world together with both hands.
After losing her father and then her sister to the same ruthless disease within a year of each other, she's the sole guardian of her seven-year-old nephew Nico - living in the family home that still smells like the people she's lost, running a bakery on inheritance money and sheer stubbornness, and reminding herself every single morning that they're going to be okay.
She doesn't have room for anything else.
She especially doesn't have room for the quiet, frustrating, entirely too observant man who walks into her bakery five minutes before closing and orders the wrong thing without a trace of apology.
She doesn't know yet that he's Nico's teacher.
He doesn't know yet that he's already in trouble.
Love, Served Warm; a slow burn about grief, found family, and falling for someone when you were absolutely sure you didn't have the space for it. Features one seven-year-old who has entirely too much to say and no intention of saying less.