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"Aspen! Your girlfriend's here!" Lena's faux-mocking call snaps me out of my diligent spreadsheet-checking, and I rush out of my chair, throwing elegance and maturity (mostly) to the wind as I scramble for the treat I saved for Miho. After a bit of rummaging through the kitchen fridge, I find my treasure, a neatly wrapped cake plate and cover safeguarding a strawberry croissant, the last we have in stock. I suppose it's against guidelines to save stock for someone special, but the Bellhouse wouldn't survive another week if I left.
I remove the plastic cover and step out of the kitchen, walking towards Miho with her present. Parted in half to allow for the addition of carefully arranged strawberry slices, layered whipped cream, powdered sugar, and even more sugar, this single plate might give the average dietician a heart attack, but it's a special occasion! My last day at this Bellhouse, and possibly Miho's last day here, too. Next week, our second location opens, under the management of a certain women-loving writer, and there won't be much reason for Miho to visit the original location after that.
"We've still got croissants left?!" Lena calls over as I approach, staring enviously at my plate.
"Not anymore. I was saving this one for Miho," I answer.
"Wow, abusing your powers already?" Lena makes a patently false and slanderous accusation, and in front of my girlfriend, no less.
"It's not the first time. Besides, I've noticed we go through blueberry muffins suspiciously fast when you're working the counter," I retort. It's only a matter of time before Regina catches up to the local muffin thief, but for Lena's sake, I've been keeping quiet.
"Dang it, I thought I was being sneaky," Lena mutters, glancing away. Sadly for Lena, her stealth check modifier is -6, and it shows.
"Not sneaky enough. So shhh," I say, putting a finger up to my lips as I walk by the swan Fabled and hand Miho her croissant. Miho accepts the present gingerly, holding the pastry arrangement close. I even arrayed strawberry slices and macarons on the plate's rim—a perfect girlfriend deserves nothing less than perfection!
"Wow, it's been forever since I've had stolen food!" Miho says, glancing down hungrily at the essentially-a-giant-pile-of-sugar on the plate.
"It's not stolen!" I defend myself, "it's just… selectively available." Good save, Aspen.
"Right, I'm gonna go select something available from the rack myself," Lena says, waving farewell. "See ya later, Miho!"
"Bye, Lena!" The Fabled waves goodbye back before glancing towards me, and I can already feel heat creeping its way up my cheeks. Any still-forming poetic thoughts on life and love are quickly dispelled, however, by the cream-and-strawberry mess on Miho's face a moment later, a side-effect of her wolfing (or foxing?) down the food with utter glee. That's my Miho, alright.
I clean up some dollops of cream from Miho's nose, smiling—I'd eat it myself if we were at home, but this is the Bellhouse, sadly. Miho's meal is looking awfully drink-less, though, and as the soon-to-be manager of Welly's second Bellhouse (and her girlfriend), it's my sworn duty to rectify that.
"Go sit down and I'll bring you something to drink. What would you like?" I ask, marvelling a little at Miho's eating speed.
"Oh it's okay, you don't have to do that," Miho answers, though her words are slightly mangled by the whipped cream still on her lips.
"I want to though. What'll you have?" I press onwards—it's my treat day for Miho!
"Well…" Miho glances away in thought, but I already know what drink she's thinking of. "Another foxtail latte, please!"
"Of course. I don't even have to ask," I reply. Although Miho's seen glimpses of pretty every item on the Bellhouse's menu over her half-year at the Bellhouse, even the ill-fated Banana Slamma Frappe-A-Rama, since I came up with the recipe for the foxtail latte a month ago, it's pretty much all she's had for drinks.
"It is my drink after all," Miho smiles, tilting her head towards me. The new drink is just another part of my life that my girlfriend's changed for the better.
"Yes, yes, I'm well aware. And I'll have it right out," I reply, heading back towards the counter and starting the sugar-filled process of preparing two foxtail lattes. Miho, meanwhile, sits down at the same spot she's been using since she first arrived here—right next to the floor-to-ceiling windows, with a commanding view of Cuba Street outside. I can't help but sneak glances at the gumiho as the morning sun's light creeps across her hair, and she smiles whenever our eyes meet, making my heart race a little each time.
When I finish, I carry a cup in each hand and stroll over to Miho's table, who moves her nearly-finished croissant plate out of the way as I take a seat across from her.
"Here you are. A foxtail latte, for its namesake," I say, presenting my girlfriend with her cup, swirling tan, white and peach visible through the clear plastic lid.
"Thanks! It's delicious!" Miho replies, having barely even touched the drink.
"You haven't even tried it yet," I point out, with a tone that's one percent exasperation and ninety-nine percent endearment.
"So? I don't need to. I just know," Miho says back, placing her full confidence in me, and my train of thought gets a little fuzzy for a moment at that.
"It has been a hit with the customers too, I must say. More than any of the other beverages I've created," I note. "Clearly, I have my wonderful muse to thank for that. You've left a mark on this place, too." The gumiho smiles gently, lit by cascading sunrays and with a slight blush dusting her face. The world narrows, and, all things considered, with Miho's playful head-tilt and the diverse morning bustle of Cuba Street behind her, Lena could paint Miho right here and get it displayed in the City Gallery. My painting skills are much, much worse than Lena's, of course, but Miho would adore my portrait of her anyways.
"That's why I get them for free forever, right?" Miho asks, a little smugly.
"Or as long as I'm working here, at least," I reply. "You know, maybe Lena was a little bit right about me abusing my powers…"
"I won't tell her you said that," Miho snorts.
"Good," I say. If Lena heard me concede to her even once, she'd be thrice as loud as she is now.
Miho begins to sip from her own cup, and the delight on her face is as pretty as a hundred stars, give or take a few nebulae. Accordingly, I take a sip of my own foxtail latte, though I seem to have made it a bit hotter than normal, because I yelp and put it down when the heat reaches my mouth, having to open the lid and let it cool for a bit before continuing.
"Damn, that is good," I mutter after a few sips, savouring the well-earned flavours. Espresso, milk, a dollop of whipped cream and a generous helping of sugar, with a few hints of peach and sweet persimmon. Wonderful, but not nearly as wonderful as Miho.
"What are you doing after this?" I ask the gumiho between sips. "I'm only on a five, by the way."
"That's fine. I'll probably just head back to the library. I don't have much else to do today," Miho replies.
"Jealous," I mutter, head swimming with thoughts of the immense amount of preparation remaining for the second Bellhouse's opening.
"Why, what about you?" Miho asks.
At Miho's prompting, I go over the trials and tribulations laid before me for the second opening, including a hiring issue from a last-minute dropout, unfinalised supply contracts for the second location's baked goods, and final inspections of furniture and location layout.
"Well, I could go on but I won't. Who would've thought opening a brand new restaurant would be so much work?" I ask incredulously to no-one in particular, laughing afterwards.
Miho's expression shifts to worried concern, and I mentally kick myself for essentially rephrasing what I said a month ago during the Very Bad Time, as I prepared to work myself to the bone editing my manuscript.
"Are you sure you're gonna be alright? I mean, you're going to be this busy until it opens, right?" Miho asks softly.
"If not busier, yes. It won't be fun, but I'll manage," I try to reassure her.
"I've heard that one before, you know," she replies, still evidently worried for my sanity.
"I know. I mean it, though. Really," I say, placing my hand gently over hers on the table. "The soft opening is in ten days. Even after that, there'll be plenty to do. Maybe more than there is now, but eventually things will settle down. And I don't have to sell my soul in the process, too," I reassure Miho, grimacing slightly at my inadvertent flashbacks to the Very Bad Time.
"That's the big difference. I can handle being tired," I say, trying to carry my conviction through my words. "It was the dread and anxiety that I couldn't take."
Miho studies me for a few moments before she seems to find what she's looking for, because she smiles again and leans back in her chair.
"Okay, okay." Miho gives in. "You're pretty determined, huh?"
"I am," I reply brightly. "It felt good to make up my mind about something. I want to give it my very best, so that I can feel good when I look back on it, too. Besides, I'd say that growing the new Bellhouse into Wellington's most popular café would be a more than adequate way to be remembered… but I'll settle for it being a hidden gem, too."
"As long as you're selling strawberry croissants and foxtail lattes, I don't see how it could be anything else!" Miho flatters me as her full, bright expression returns, and she leans forward again, head-tilted.
"Hopefully. Word of mouth from the first few days will be very important. If we fail to make a good first impression, then it could be hard to recover," I explain.
"You're worrying too much," and as my girlfriend speaks, it's her turn to give the comforting hand-hold. "Everyone already loves the Bellhouse! I'm sure they'll love yours, too."
"Me? Worry, too much? No way," I chuckle out, and neither of us believe me.
"Uh huh," Miho deadpans.
"Well…" I admit, "you're probably right. Besides, I have a great team, too. With their help, I'm sure it'll turn out okay."
"That's more like it! You and Lena are gonna do great," Miho exclaims.
"I can't let her show me up, after all. Especially as the store manager," I proclaim, and I dearly hope Lena, back at the serving counter, didn't just hear me say that—heaven help me if she did! "Oh god, I really am starting to sound like her."
"That's another one for the list, right?" Miho laughs.
"Naturally," I reply.
"Speaking of Lena, I need to get back to work," I note, as begrudging to leave my dear Miho as ever. "I'm busy this afternoon, but I'm free tomorrow after work?"
"I'm always free when you are!" Miho answers.
"It's a date, then," I reply, and my train-of-thought gets all fuzzy again, as it always does whenever I say that with Miho. Sadly, with Miho having finished her food and drink, and with me on-shift, we have to separate once again.
"I love you, Miho."
"I love you, too, Aspen."
I give Miho a goodbye kiss before I go, her response as tender and adoring as ever. Miho's eyes follow me back towards the counter with nothing less than unconditional love, and it's hard not to wobble a little as I enter the kitchen, looking back at her content smile.
I'm going to marry that girl.