#cashdcvis

Alex couldn’t even give himself a second to laugh at the pun. Whisk Taker in any other situation it would’ve done the trick and earned a chuckle and more. A smile begins to form but with nerves shot to hell, he’s a shaking mess, a matador pleading fifth, disingenuous and guilty of everything. The bakery stands a few feet from him while he remains frozen in spot. It was the first of a series of surprises, the change from a restaurant to a bakery, from LA to this island, but with the distance between them intentionally placed, Alex suspects there are more, if only he could move and find out. A thought begins to burn in the back of his head, a question really, what was Alex doing here?  After all these years, why now? As much as Cash had felt like a dream, Alex knows it wasn’t. That passion could not be dreamt even in his wildest dreams. Then what? Was it just to seek out a divorce? Fingers brush over where the wedding band used to be — a habit born out nervousness the cool metal provided comfort and eased his mind, years later it’s still a habit but rather than comfort, the emptiness was jarring. Past and present collided and brought upon a whirlwind of confused emotions, and he thinks the side of a road was no place to have a crisis.

Running fingers through his hair in attempts to smooth it down, Alex steps in. The sweet aroma of freshly baked treats warms him, but all the gathered thoughts vanish and rehearsed speeches die on his tongue when their eyes met. Cash was true north and Alex did little to resist the pull, true then, truer now. “Hello.” It comes out as a whisper, and then quieter still follows a, “Sorry, I probably should’ve called.”

WHEN: thursday february 11th, 9:38 am

WHERE: whisktaker

jasmine looked at her phone again, eyes squinting with anger at the fact she was up way earlier than the alarm she had set the night before. it was one of her rare days off, and she had planned to spend it in her fuzzy slippers and wrapped like a burrito in her favourite blanket. instead, she threw a light jacket on her shoulders and hurried to follow the indications that her growling stomach was giving her. soon enough, she was confused by the push and pull of the door of one of her favourite places on earth, the bakery. she figured the mechanism after a few moments and dragged her feet into the place. it smelt and felt warm, her senses were tingling and finally waking up. the shelves were filled with baked goods and she resisted to stick her face against the glass like an excited child.

the brunette took a look around and recognized a familiar face. “please, tell me you still have croissants!” she lifted her pointer finger up, indicating them to wait long enough for her to run her hand through her purse and pull out an half-empty small jar of nutella. after multiple visits to cassius’ shop, she learned that carrying the pastry back home and eating them alone when they were cold was never as good as enjoying them right in store, even if it earned her weird looks from other customer. she prepared her visits meticulously, and the method to her madness included bringing a jar of hazelnut spread like it was a random lip balm lost in her hand bag. “you would save my day! like a super hero! you could be super-pastry! that’s a cool hero name if i can say so myself.” she clapped her hands with excitement, but abruptly stopped. “oh, i forgot. hi, cash! how are you? sorry, food comes before formalities in my book of priorities.”