Butcher and The Baker |HS

One

Hey guys so, this story while being fun and lighthearted will have some things that are sensitive subjects. If you've ever gone through or are going through it, I hope I represent it and bring it to light in a fashion not to offend anyone and I'm always always here if anyone needs to talk. I hope you enjoy this story. Here we go....

Harry's POV:

I couldn't help but admire the way she carried herself. Though the streets and sidewalks that were full of politicians and tourists and the rich and poor came and went through the bakery, she stood out. She never wore anything fancy by any measure. Plain jeans or leggings that hugged her muscular legs and a shirt that showcased how thin she was. She was tall and burly but still so feminenly soft that I could assume she was afraid of spiders.

I'd seen her come in for weeks, once or twice a week and sometimes three times. We'd never really spoken other than her usual order of coffee and a mere thanks. I found myself shooing Louis, Liam or Niall from the register each time she came in. I enjoyed getting to see her and always felt a bit flustered at how familiar she seemed.

This week, she'd come in three days in a row and I was anxiously anticipating the fourth. As I walked down the sidewalk, carrying my own cup of coffee and music blasting in my ears, I smiled as I reached the front door and unlocked it, the warmth of the bakery enclosing me. It was only mid September but it was still slightly cold outside at 5 in the morning.

I sighed at the stale yet comforting silence, sitting my bag down and making my way toward the ovens, turning them on and plugging my phone into the stereo. Music flooded the speakers and I smiled. By 6:00, I had cupcakes in the oven and I was icing the cinnamon rolls I had just pulled from the oven when Louis walked in with a smile, the back door slamming shut behind him.

"Good morning," I chirped, leaning as close as I could to concentrate on my precision.

"Morning. You been here since five?" he chuckled.

"Everyday," I nodded. "As you've known since we were in school together."

"Yeah yeah, mr. Perfectionist."

"There's nothing wrong with wanting things done right."

"I'm just teasing," he laughed, rolling his eyes. "What've we got today?"

"The Sharapova wedding cake needs to be finished and I need you to team up with Niall to get the fondant on the birthday cake for Diane. The wedding cake can wait. Diane is-"

"Top priority, I know. You've drilled it into our heads. It's just a birthday cake for her son who probably won't appreciate it anyway."

"He might." The cake she'd wanted cost her a pretty penny, but she'd been a loyal client since I'd first opened and had brought me most of the business that helped me open a full bakery. By the time the doors opened at 7 o'clock, Niall and Liam had shown up and customers were already coming in. I carefully placed the red velvet cupcakes that had finally cooled in the display case, keeping an eye out for her.

"Looking for someone?" Liam grinned.

"Just stacking the cupcakes," I shrugged.

"Sure you are, mate. She won't come in. She never comes in four days in a row." Don't jinx it, dick.

"When did you become psychic?"

"C'mon, Harry. You know she rarely comes in three days in a row and when she does, it's quite an event."