𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 | 𝐓𝐂𝐅.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄: 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄

    "Y-Young master! Welcome!" exclaimed the baker with a trembling voice.

Cale merely nodded at the baker, who stooped so low that his head was practically touching the concrete ground. Meanwhile, you're sweating at the man. Cale's face was expressionless, and he crossed his arms.

    "Give me some bread,"

    "Excuse me?"

Cale sighed and forcefully replied, pointing his index finger at the entire bread display across the oak table.

"From here, to here," your brow furrows in bewilderment.  perplexed as to why he needs to buy so much bread; is there some sort of significant event that you're unaware of?

Cale took a golden coin and tossed it casually on the counter. The coin began to spin before landing in the middle.

    Cale said, "Pack it all up."

At first, the baker didn't respond; he appeared to be stuck in place. Gazing at the golden coin, his irises moved at Cale, it was too much money to pay for the bread. Cale kept a tough expression on the Baker's quivering eyes.

Cale's words successfully snapped the Baker out of his daydreaming. "I can go somewhere else if you don't want to."

"That's not the case, young master," the man exclaims, "I'll pack it up as quickly as possible!" The baker frantically scrambled away to acquire a sack or bag for the bread. You looked at the young master after the baker had left and questioned him.

"If you don't mind me asking, young master, what's for the bread? Is there any occasion I wasn't notified of?" you inquire. Cale replied with a shake of his head.

"No, you'll see it later," nodding your head in understanding manner. You remained silent until the baker arrived with the sack in his hand and began quickly tossing the bread into the bag.

Stretching your arms out to carry the sack of bread for Cale, you were too late; another pair of arms grabbed the bag as Cale grasped the bag. He swung it over his shoulder and grumbled gently.

"Young master, let me carry that for you," you stated monotonously, peering over him blankly. Cale grunted again as he adjusts his shoulder's back before looking at you.

    "I'm fine, I can carry it myself," he muttered dismissively, flapping his hand.

"But, young master, you're weak, you have frail arms and the strength of a fly," you frankly said. You weren't even stammering or pausing.

Cale frowns gently, his brows twitch briefly; your words aren't music to his ears, and they have seriously harmed his ego. 

He felt a little self-conscious about the fact that a female has more physical strength than he does.

"There's no need to be blunt about it," Cale grumbled, clicking his tongue.

Cale ran his hand through his silky-looking red hair, briefly tousling it, and sighed, "A short exercise wouldn't hurt now, would it? let me carry it. I'll let you know if I'm exhausted." Rolling your eyes, you bopped your head dejectedly and granted his wish.