thoughtsofvorfreude | Sweet On You 🍭

each sat behind the counter, having lost that delicate posture the first few days held. It had been almost a week and a half since she'd officially opened, and after a few days suddenly all the business had dried up. She had been so hopeful, so sure of herself. When she had ran away from the kingdom, fleeing her responsibilities in favor of new ones. Of a life of her choosing. She wanted to bake-- to breathe! She didn't want to be tied down, only to look pretty until someone saw fit to marry her off to look pretty elsewhere. It wasn't that Toadsworth made her unhappy, he had done such a good job raising her-- perhaps too good of a job. She grew eager for independence, to care for herself, to prove that she was able to live in the real world. She knew he loved her, as much if not more than someone could love their own child, but she also knew he was scared for her. Scared to let her see the world-- and she wanted nothing more than that!

So she had run away with nothing in hand and little more than a desire to make her own mark upon the world. It took everything she had. She sold her jewels, every last one except the small crown she kept hidden under the tiny bed on the second floor of her shop. She put it all into this place, as small as it was-- because she wanted to make herself some kind of a future. She may not have known the 'real world' as Toadsworth had called it, but she wanted to experience it. And for the first few days, it was glorious.

When her shop opened it had been busy, almost, but as each day went by less and less people came. Even those who promised to return stopped coming, to the point she had gone three days without a sale and began to wonder if she'd have to crawl back home with her tail between her legs. She bit her lip at the thought.

Where had everything gone so wrong?

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She didn't have much of a poker face, he was learning. As soon as he paid her a very simple compliment, her ears were cherry-red. He watched her in very obvious enjoyment as she struggled for something to say in return: poor little Peach wasn't quite so used to playful banter, it seemed. That just made it even more fun to tease her.

"No, no, cobbler isn't good enough," he said in between bites of the rapidly disappearing cupcake. "I'll settle for 'Peach' as in 'Peaches and cream.'" He didn't mean anything too dirty by it, and he figured he was safe, seeing as Peach so far had shown herself to be fairly naive.

"What's the next big project, then?" he asked. "I see cupcakes in there, muffins, cakes, and so on..." he tapped the fork lightly against the plate, a pure sound ringing out throughout the store. Somehow his blond hair had come in front of an eye, so he swept it away with a spare hand. "Multiple layer cakes? Bridal? Macaroons?"

He almost knew what the last one meant.

The filthy meaning behind it wasn't even needed, she was still embarrassed, but not in a way she completely hated. There was something charming about him, admittedly, something she was learning a little bit more and more about as they spoke. Not that she thought she really knew him, but it was nice to have friendly, happy company. It warmed her, at the very least.

"Ah--" She lit up, thinking of the possibilities before she answered. "All of them!" A laugh at her own enthusiasm before she decided to at least add a little reason into her answers. "I would love to try Macaroons-- but yeah, big cakes are the dream. I think those are the best to keep people coming back. Offering something so bright, unique and delicious that they want it for every party." She cupped her own cheeks, just thinking about her bustling cake business made her want to squeal.

Even if that was the opposite of reality right now.

"That's the dream."

He laughed along with her. He didn't know her too well, but he already understood it was a very Peach answer: of course she wanted to make all of them, just as he imagined she wanted to try all of them, and have everyone try each one.

He took the last bite of the cupcake and began to worry she wouldn't accept his money when it came time to pay her. Thoughts of slipping a bill into her empty tip jar or something along those lines filled his mind, but he didn't miss the look on her face. At first, abject happiness...

And then, watered down with disappointment.

"It seems like a good dream to me," he mentioned. "And the cool thing about it, in my opinion, is that you're already most of the way there. Imagine how many people have dreams like yours and how few of them have a shop! Or even know how to really bake."

"I mean, at least you have a dream," he finished ruefully.

Watching him eat her cupcake reminds her of something, and while he's talking she steps to the side and roots around under the counter. The sound of a small bit of suction, and the jingle of glasses tapping each other she stands back up with a little bottle of milk. It was the kind for kids, with a cartoon cow printed across the front and a colorful label, but she figured it would serve well enough to wash down the extra-chocolate-y cupcake.

"You sound like a man who isn't sure what his dream is yet?" She slid the milk across the counter, leaving it beside the plate for him to have, should he want to. "No real big dreams? Even silly ones?" But it wasn't derisive, how she asked, instead it was kind and curious. As if she could help him with that, too.

Probably not, but still, something in the way he said it made her feel for him. He was right, even if her shop failed she had gotten to try her dream out and that was more than many other people ever got to do.

"You're prepared!" he exclaimed, obviously impressed. Usually he didn't eat his sweets with milk, but that was more about his lack of preparation and less about his inclinations. He gratefully accepted the glass of milk and took a sip, then another. "Are you sure you haven't been doing this for... forever?" He narrowed his eyes at her playfully, another tease he couldn't quite pass up.

"'Yet' is pretty optimistic, he said, and sighed. "No big dreams, no small ones, no silly medium-sized ones." He held up a hand as if to say, sorry to disappoint. "I have lots of things I enjoy doing, but something big that all this is leading to...? Nope. Right now I'm just finishing college, and then...?" He shrugged, and took another sip.

It occurred to him then how odd it was for him to be divulging his frustrations to this woman he'd only met today--sooner, just in the last hour!--but somehow, it felt right. Something about her wide-eyed, curious expression made spilling his guts feel practically expected of him, around her. "Not even something as simple as opening a bakery. No offense."

"It feels like forever," she mused, almost to herself, but her smile was directed at him. The days felt long when there were no customers, just time ticking by, leaving her a little more broke and discouraged. She wasn't willing to give up, however, she would spend every penny she had keeping the lights on in the store before she was willing to surrender to failure. It just wasn't in her nature. She wanted to believe so dearly in herself, in her hopes and dreams, that thinking anything else was too painful.

"That just means you have unlimited possibilities." She offered with a bit of a smile, allowing herself to lean against the counter, lazily watching him, taking in his expression, his stature, thinking the whole thing over. "You could do anything from here on out-- or even nothing, if you wanted. I think that's okay too, it took me a long time to decide what to do with myself because sometimes it felt like I had no options at all-- and now I have so many it was hard to be sure. But then it just clicked for me.

"Maybe it will for you, too?"

"See?" he snapped his fingers. "I knew it. A baker from birth." He didn't miss the slight look downward she gave and the tightening of her lips that came with it, but he didn't quite understand what the expression meant. In the end he decided not to pry: even if he was exposing his soul to her, they really had only known each other for an hour or so.

"Yeah," he sighed, "that's what most people say. You can do anything! And I guess I could, but it's hard when there's nothing in particular that appeals to me. At least if I, I dunno, collected stamps I'd at least have something that made me me. And maybe it'll click, or maybe it won't. I don't know." He frowned and tapped a finger against the plate, then stood. She was easy to open his heart to--but he didn't make a habit of doing it often. It made him nervous.

"I should probably get going for now, but I can always stop in again, unless you're closed at odd hours. Is this enough?"
He fished in his pants for a crumpled ten-dollar bill and pushed it onto the counter.

She might have said more-- briefly looked like she was interested in doing exactly that when he hurried up and put some money on the counter. She was actually surprised by that, giving a bit of a laugh and moving over to the register. Punching in a few numbers she slid him back a five with a wink. "Most of that I gave to you without really asking if you wanted it, so we can split the difference, how's that?" And if he had any issues with it, well it was too late anyway. Her hip bumping into the drawer and with the light rattle of change sending it closed once more.

"The regular hours, they're on the door too, if you're ever unsure." Her expression softened, a sort of warmness that managed to reach her eyes. She wasn't able to resist being so open, it was just in her nature, and probably what caused her so much trouble sometimes. "You're welcome back anytime. It's always nice to have the company."

Sweet On You 🍭

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