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Love Over A Croissant	By : Rhov Category: +. to F > Fairy Tail Views: 3890 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Fairy Tail is the property of Hiro Mashima. I make no money, I just do this for my own pleasure.

Chapter List
- 1-Love Over A Croissant
- 2-Natsu's POV
- 1
- 2
Being a baker wasn't much of a job, but the hours were good, the pay was enough to cover the rent, the staff was awesome, and I got to eat pastries for free. A definite bonus!
Things were pretty boring until … he walked in. Right at eight-twelve.
I didn't usually pay that much attention to customers, especially during the morning rush. Smile, take the order, take their card, hand them a pastry, wish them a good day. But with him, there was something else. In general, he was nothing special, a sleepy look, hair still damp from his morning shower, dressed in a suit and tie, ready for some desk job downtown.
Maybe it was the messy shock of black hair and the scar above his brow that gave him that bad boy look I was so weak for.
"What'll you have?" I asked, same as I said to every customer.
I liked how he stared at me, and only then realized he should read the menu board.
A croissant. It sounded like he picked the first thing he saw.
"Anything else?"
Nope. He paid with cash, and I got his pastry.
"Okay, here ya go!"
He not so much left the bakery as fled with a blush creeping up to his ears. Sometimes, I really wished we were allowed to ask the customers out, or at least ask for their name and number. All I could do was pray he would come back some day, but I knew not to get my hopes up.
Yet the next morning, the door chimed, and I saw him, his eyes instantly seeking mine. My heart leaped, and I'm sure my smile was brighter than it had been all week.
"Good morning! What will it be?"
Croissant. Plain. I handed it to him, and our hands touched for a fraction of a second. His touch was cold, probably from the chill outside, whereas I was suddenly made aware of how warm my hands were from handling the oven all morning. He muttered a thanks and once again fled with a blush. The tingle of his cold hands lingered on mine. I had a strong desire to warm up his whole body.
"Ooh, look at you! Making the boys blush."
I glared at my coworker Loke. He flirted all the time and got in trouble for it. I wasn't that interested in the customers usually, but this guy…
Why couldn't he order a coffee, so I'd get a chance to ask for his name and write it on his cup with a little happy face? And why did he have to pay in cash, rather than a card so I could see who he was? It was too weird to just ask "Hey, what's your name," although Loke did that to ladies all the time. I really, really wanted to know his name.
I waited eagerly the next day, watching the clock. He must have been going on bus schedules, because he was there at the exact same time, eight-twelve.
"You're back!"
And again.
"Oh hey! The usual?"
And again.
"Perfect timing! I have your croissant hot and ready for you."
Monday to Friday, always at eight-twelve, always the same order, always leaving with brighter cheeks.
I grew eager to go to work in the dark morning hours, because I knew I would get to see my croissant boy. The morning rush went by in a sea of blank faces as I waited for him to show up, always at the same time, always the same order. After he left, I felt light, floating, lost in those dreamy eyes. His morning croissant was bringing us together. Or at least, I really hoped so.
Then finally, the day arrived when, instead of a couple bills, he handed over a debit card. I knew I wasn't supposed to look too hard at the card, but I couldn't help it. Gray Fullbuster.
"Oh, your name's Gray? Awesome name."
Awesome? Gray was now my favorite color!
I really hated when I got called away from the cash register right around eight o'clock. Still, sometimes I had to help Freed in the back, and Loke took the cash register while I hoisted heavy trays of fresh baked goods. In the corner of my eye, I'd see him enter, look at the register, see Loke there instead, and instantly there was sinking disappointment.
Scratch that … I rather liked when I was called away, because I could see that there was a definite change in how he looked between me and Loke. I saw the way his eyes searched around, seeking me out in the back. I looked away just as he peeked around at the ovens. I saw the way his eyes stayed down at the counter while dealing with Loke, not up and looking him straight in the eyes like he did with me. He had more of a slouch as he left with his croissant. The next morning at eight-twelve, I would be back at the register, and I'd see a grin of relief in his face.
I could see how I cheered him up. I liked to think that I made his morning a little better, like how he made my whole day happier.
And okay, I showed off when I was at the oven. I rolled my sleeves up a little higher to show off my muscles. I tried to make it look effortless and cool while flexing a lot more than I needed. Hell, I was putting on a sexy show, all for him.
I really wanted to cheer him up when I couldn't be the one to greet him. Once, after hefting a huge metal tray of cinnamon rolls to the oven's top rack—a real struggle that time with no fake flexing since it takes a lot of strength—I turned to get a rag to wipe the sweat, and I saw him quickly looking away, flushed all the way up to his ears and biting his lip. Then his eyes sneaked back over, only to stab downward as he realized I was watching him.
The way he blushed and bit his lip, the way he sneaked another glance back to the ovens as he was leaving, the way his eyes trailed up and down my body just before fleeing out the door with a quicker step … I really hoped he liked what he saw.
"Just talk to him," Loke urged. "All of us see it. I won't tell if you flirt a little."
I knew Loke wouldn't tell—he flirted all the time. Freed kept to his own business, although he was a stickler for rules. So long as you obeyed him in his kitchen, he didn't much care what we did up front.
However, I had no clue how to talk to him. I liked what we had, our morning meetings, our small exchange, the bashful happiness in his eyes. Part of me didn't want to lose that.
"He doesn't even know your name."
I was blown away when I realized Loke was right. I knew his name was Gray, but he had no way of knowing anything about me. I was the bakery guy, just as he had been my croissant boy.
The next day, I was determined to at least tell him who I was. "Hi Gray, good morning. By the way, my name is Natsu. I have your croissant ready." Easy.
And I froze. I barely said a word, just handed him the croissant I had prepared and watched him go.
Idiot.
I was so ashamed of myself, I volunteered to work the oven the next day. How could I face him when I couldn't even really talk to him? Loke was able to talk to people so easily, whereas I had a set spiel I used with each customer, monotonous but easier that way.
That morning was miserable. Gray came in, and I did not even look his way. Loke chatted with him way more than I had ever talked to him, and I was envious of that outgoing way of his. I did not see Gray take his croissant and leave. I felt cranky, and this was my punishment for being a coward.
Finally, it was break time. I trudged to the back room and pulled out my phone, which had to be on silent while we worked. I saw that I had a message. Strange. I rarely got texts. Even weirder, it was an unknown number. I was expecting spam, or maybe some stupid bill collector to make my morning even worse. Instead, the message floored me.
"Thank you for the croissants. Gray."
Gray.
Gray?
GRAY!
"Holy shit!"
"Language!" came a shout from Freed in the nearby kitchen.
Gray! He had my number. How? How the hell did he—
Loke. He was grinning weirdly after Gray left. I didn't get to see what was going on since I had to focus on a pan of apple strudels, but he must have given Gray my number.
Gray … my morning Gray, my croissant boy … had my phone number. And now I had his.
With my hands shaking, I carefully saved his number to my phone. Gray Fullbuster. I couldn't believe I was putting his name in my contacts list.
Loke swung around the corner with a cat-like grin. "Did he call you?"
"Text," I murmured, still unable to believe it.
"You should text him back, hook up." The door chimed just then. "Whoops, gotta go. Call him!"
Call him? I couldn't. He was on his way to work, riding a bus, and then he would be busy. I glanced at the time and saw it was after nine. I had no idea what he did as a job, but he was definitely an office worker, so he likely started work already. He would be busy, unable to take a personal call.
Besides, I had no idea what to say back.
Loke was right, though. If I didn't reply, he might think it was the wrong number, or maybe I didn't care.
I did. I was trembling. My fingers barely wanted to work.
"You're welcome. I'd love to see you tomorrow as well."
It was lame, but it matched the casual tone of his text.
I was really hoping he would text me back, and I grew sad as the night wore on and there was no response. I had to be up before sunrise for the bakery, so I was already in bed and asleep when I heard my phone ding.
"I'll be there tomorrow. Have my croissant ready and warm."
I smiled and fell asleep hugging my phone.
Forget the croissant. He made me warm.
Eight o'clock could not come soon enough. I worked the ovens like usual, getting sweaty hoisting the pans of baked goods. Loke threw a few jabs, asking if my croissant boy called me, prying to know what I said, until Freed had to scold him that there were customers around. At eight o'clock, Loke grandly relieved the cash register to me with a knowing wink. Freed also glanced over, and I swore I saw him smile for the first time.
He was not there at eight-twelve. He was there at eight o' seven. I wanted to think he was that eager to see me.
"Welcome," I said, but my heart pounded in my throat. There was so much I wanted to say, but my brain fizzled. "What will it be, Gray?"
Oh my God, I said his name!
"Good morning, Natsu."
Oh my God, he said MY name!
"Give me a croissant."
"I just pulled a batch out of the oven, hot and fresh for you." Dammit, that could be taken so wrong … or right? With heat creeping up my face, I rushed over and wrapped the croissant up in paper. He handed me cash, and as I passed the croissant over, our hands brushed together. He looked me straight in the eyes.
"Thank you, Natsu."
That cold touch sent shivers all through me. "Thanks for dropping in. I'll see you again tomorrow, Gray."
He nodded and turned, letting the next person in line come forward. My eyes were on Gray's retreating back as the lady who had been behind him prattled off her order to my deaf ears. Just then, Loke shoved me aside.
"Fifteen minute break," he declared, then he leaned into my ear. "Go walk him to the bus stop, idiot."
It took me a moment. That was right, Gray was here five minutes early. We had a chance to talk, and I could walk with him, see him outside of the bakery.
"Wait up!" I shouted just as Gray reached the door. I threw off my apron and bolted to his side. "Break time. Can I walk with you?"
I always did love the way he blushed and averted his eyes. "I won't stop you," he said in a surly, awkward tone. Then he opened the door for me. "After you, Natsu."
Oh my God, he said my name again!
We strolled together, away from the smells of dough and butter, our breath smoking in the cold morning air, trying to find something to talk about.
"I love this time of year," I said, looking around at the city.
"Right between summer and winter," he said in agreement.
I didn't care if it was about the weather, we were talking. His bus stop was only a few buildings down on the corner, and we reached it way too soon. He checked the time; ten minutes to go, so I stayed with him. I realized, he was at the bakery five minutes early, so he must reach the bus stop every morning with a five-minute wait to eat his croissant. He did that now, almost hiding behind the pastry, as I told him about my cat.
God, why am I talking about my cat?
Still, I prattled about banal things while I watched him eat the pastry I had baked, and it made me feel warm inside. Every morning, he was eating my food. Well, Freed was the one who mixed the ingredients together, but I put the trays in and out of the oven. I had never thought about customers that way before, but Gray … he was more than a regular customer now.
We heard the bus rumbling up the street, and Gray looked sad to see it.
"I'll see you tomorrow," I said. "One plain croissant, same as always."
"Yeah," he muttered. "Or maybe I should try some of your others things. The cinnamon rolls look delicious." The bus was stopped at a red light just short of the bus stop, and the people waiting for it were growing impatient. As for me, I was glad the light had turned red, giving me a few more seconds with Gray. "Hey, um … texting you. Was that okay?"
All the warmth in my heart burst out into a smile. "Totally! You can call me as well. Although not too late. I was asleep when I got your text."
"Oh. Sorry. It took me a while to send it."
I really, really hoped he had sat in bed struggling to build up the courage to hit the Send button, and maybe he pressed it on accident and cursed as he realized he had sent a message at eleven o'clock at night.
"When are you home?" I asked.
"Around six."
"I'll call you at six twenty, give you time to settle in. Is that okay?"
"Y-yeah," he muttered.
He was all red again and looking so adorable, I could have kissed him right there. However, the light turned green, the bus pulled up to the stop, the door opened with a hiss, and the crowd filed in.
"See you tomorrow, Natsu," he said, joining the others heading off to their jobs.
"Yeah, see you, Gray."
I watched him board, watched him take a seat by the window, and our eyes met, me on the sidewalk in my bakery uniform, him about to head off to some desk job. His fingers wiggled in a shy wave goodbye, and I waved back, my face hurting from how much I was smiling in excitement and pure joy. Then the bus lurched forward, but our eyes stay on one another for as long as possible.
I had a new time to look forward to. Eight-twelve and six-twenty.
As I headed back to the bakery and the smell of buttery sweet dough, I thought how crazy it was, to be this wildly in love with a man who learned my name only yesterday. It was totally crazy to think how baked goods brought us together, a morning routine becoming an eagerly anticipated part of our day.
Yet somehow, as insane as it sounded, we fell in love over a croissant.
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- 2
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Love Over A Croissant