Work Text:
This was not happening.
“Princess!”
Absolutely not.
“Welcome home, ma éclair!”
Her eyes flit between the two persons in the front of the bakery. One, she expected. She saw him every day and to her, his second home was the bakery. Well, possibly because he did live there with her.
“As I was saying, you can come in whenever you like. You don’t have to wait outside in the cold.”
The other, she had not expected in this setting ever. There was no akuma. No danger. Well, maybe a little danger.
“That’s very kind of you to offer, Monsieur Dupain-Cheng, but—”
The danger of her sanity.
“I told you to call me Tom, my boy.”
Maybe she needed to go to her room. That was it. This was a weird dream.
“Ah! I a-paw-logize, Tom.”
Nope. This was a nightmare. Maybe—
“No knead to be sorry, my boy.”
She did not need to see his leather clad face break into one of the silliest grins she had ever seen. She did not need to see her father’s mustache twitch in pure amusement. She did not need to acknowledge the fact that Chat would probably come by the bakery now if only to have pun wars with her father.
She escaped to her room if only to fully embrace her denial.