Scary? My god, you're divine!

“Mama…how do I make sadness go away?” you ponder as your tiny hand holds your mother’s fingers tightly.

Surprised by your sudden question, she asks, “What brought this on, my dear?”

“My new friend is sad, and I want to make him happy!”

“A friend?” Your mother ponders. She doesn’t recall you meeting anyone new around your age. Ah…the little boy she found you with in the gardens of the Oak family.

“Hmm~ let’s see…sweets! They always lift people’s moods!” your mother replies enthusiastically. “Strawberries are in season right now, shall we make a strawberry shortcake for your new friend?”

Your eyes light up at your mother’s suggestion. Baking with your mother was always fun, and this time, it has a special purpose. You eagerly nod, already imagining the smile on your friend’s face.

Freshly whipped cream, spongy vanilla cake, and of course the star of the show—the ripe red strawberries. Though it wasn’t the most flattering to look at, with messy whipped cream and strawberries sliding off the cake, it’s the thought that counts, right?

The two Halovians looked at each other then at the cake, a bit hesitant to try it due to its presentation. But neither of them had the heart to refuse their new friend, especially when you were looking at them so expectantly.

Robin was the first to reach for the fork, and Sunday, still a bit hesitant, followed. After all, he’s never seen sweets look like that.

“Make sure you get everything!” you exclaim, looking at Robin with excitement.

Robin carefully cuts a piece, making sure to get a bit of cake, whipped cream, and strawberry in each bite. She takes a cautious taste, her expression shifting from skepticism to delight.

“Mmm! This is really good!” Robin exclaims, her face lighting up.

Sunday, seeing Robin’s reaction, gathers the courage to take a bite as well. His eyes widen in surprise as the sweet flavors fill his mouth.

“Wow, it really is delicious!” His eyes light up with stars.

You beam with pride, happy to see your new friends enjoying the cake. The three of you sit together, savoring the treat and each other’s company. The sun filters through the leaves, casting a warm glow over the garden, and for a moment, all worries and sadness seem to melt away.

From that day on, you decided to be a baker. You wanted to give the same joy you gave to the Halovian siblings, sharing your sweets to make sadness go away for everyone who tasted them.

Eager to learn more, you begged your mom to teach you how to bake. She happily obliged, and each week you tried your hand at different sweets. Whatever you baked, you would sneak to the Halovian siblings. Robin giggled to herself when she saw Sunday eagerly waiting for you on the day you were supposed to come, excited to taste the sugary delights you brought, despite their strict rules about their diet and education.

Over the years, as you perfected your baking skills, you took a particular liking to sweets with strawberries in them. You noticed that whenever you presented baked goods to the siblings, Sunday’s eyes always lit up whenever there were strawberries involved. And it became a habit for you to include strawberries in many of your creations.

One day, as you brought over a batch of strawberry tarts, Sunday’s face broke into a wide grin. “These are my favorite!” he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Robin laughed, “You’ve really spoiled him, you know. But we love everything you make.”

As you all grew older, Sunday was the first one to put distance between you and him. At least when Robin was around, he would give you the time of day. But when Robin became a galactic pop star and often left Penacony, he barely acknowledged you.

Before he knew it, distance had already been established. The only thing keeping him tethered to you was Robin when she was still in Penacony. Due to his adopted father’s distaste for you and his busy work schedule as the head of the family, the distance grew even wider. When the sweets stopped coming after Robin left, he thought the friendship was past being repaired. He wanted to reach out to you so many times when he walked past your bakery or caught a glimpse of your smiling face while you were talking to someone in Penacony, but his pride wouldn’t let him. When he walked by your bakery, he always lingered, hoping to see your face. You looked so much happier without him, so he didn’t have the guts to show his face.

“Mr. Sunday is much too busy to meet a nobody like you,” his assistant claimed, turning you away when you went to deliver a strawberry shortcake for Sunday’s birthday.

It was the final nail in the coffin. It seemed like you were the only one desperate to keep your friendship alive, so you gave up.

You went back to your small bakery and minded your own business. You stopped looking for Sunday, you stopped sending sweets, and just attended to your bakery. But maybe some part of you still hoped that any customer who walked through that door was Sunday. You wanted him to visit you, try your sweets, and see how far you’d come compared to when you were a child giving him a messy cake trying to make him feel better. But that day seemed to never come.

Robin would often show up whenever she was in Penacony to buy your sweets for herself and her brother.

“Brother claims to have lost his sweet tooth over the years, but he always eats the sweets I buy from your bakery,” Robin tells you.

“Oh, I’m glad he eats them,” you reply absentmindedly. Did he actually eat them, or was Robin just trying to make you feel better? You doubted that he ate the sweets you used to send and deliver.

“I’m worried about Brother…he spends too much time in the dreamscape,” Robin thinks aloud, trying to catch your attention by mentioning her brother.

“Oh, that’s a bit worrying…” you reply half-heartedly.

Though you show indifference when Robin brings up her brother, she knows that you still care deeply about him due to the obscenely large amount of strawberry baked goods you sell at your bakery, or when you quickly turn your head to the door when you hear the sound of bells jingle. Guess old habits die hard, huh?

One rainy afternoon, as you were closing up shop, the bell above the door chimed. You looked up, expecting to see another last-minute customer, but instead, you saw Robin and someone behind her. It was Sunday. You should be happy, right? That he finally visited your bakery, the one thing you hoped for and yet you can’t help but feel hurt. Why now? Of all times, when you finally gave up on preserving your friendship, he comes to you.

“What do I owe the pleasure of having the head of the Oak family visit this humble bakery?” you asked coldly, the words leaving your mouth before you could stop yourself. Years of hurt and disappointment bubbled to the surface, despite your hope to welcome him warmly into your bakery. The atmosphere became awkward and tense as soon as you finished your sentence.

Robin shifted uncomfortably, nudging Sunday to say something to change the tense atmosphere. Sunday wanted to say something, anything, to mend the distance he had put between you and him. But as soon as those harsh words left your mouth, his words seemed to be stuck in his throat. He couldn't help but feel hurt by your harsh tone, and yet he couldn't blame you for being so cold. After all, the fault lay with him.

“We’re here to take shelter from the rain,” Sunday said with a polite smile. There goes his pride again…he couldn’t seem to be honest with his feelings.

“Then go ahead and take a seat anywhere you like, Mr. Sunday,” you replied with the best customer service voice. This hurt Sunday even more; you treating him like a stranger.

“The usual for you, right, Robin?” you turned to Robin with familiarity.

“Y-yeah.” Robin couldn’t help but feel awkward with how this was going. It wasn’t going as she had planned.

“Alright, it’ll be right out shortly!” you replied, then turned to Sunday. “Here is our menu, Mr. Sunday. Please take your time looking through it.”

Sunday nodded, feeling a pang of sadness at your formal tone. He silently watched you walk to the room behind the counter.

"Brother, you should talk to her," Robin urged her brother.

You came out with a slice of tarta helada and a pot of Earl Grey for Robin. "Here you go."

"Thank you." Robin thanked you and then gave her brother a look of expectation.

"Are you ready to order, Mr. Sunday?" you turned to Sunday, your attitude taking a 180-degree turn.

Sunday silently took a deep breath, trying to muster the courage to say what he truly felt. "I would like a lemon blueberry scone and whatever tea Robin is having," Sunday said as he closed the menu with a forced calm. His heart racing knowing this was his chance to make amends. A scone? When did he start liking scones? Lemon blueberry at that, too? Did his taste change? You couldn't help but feel a bit upset by his order.

"I'll have that right out. Is there anything else?"

Sunday took another deep breath, trying to muster the courage to say what he truly felt. "Yes, actually, I’d like to talk," he said, his voice softer as he resisted the urge to reach out to you.

You paused, "Talk? Now you want to talk? Well, there's nothing to talk about. If that's all, then I'll be getting your order ready." You turned and disappeared into the back room.

Sunday watched you walk away, feeling a pang of desperation. This time, he wouldn't wait for you to come back. He followed you into the back.

“What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be here,” you said, turning to face him.

“I need to talk to you.” Sunday said firmly, his eyes pleading. This time he used his arms to cage you between him and the counter so you wouldn’t walk away. “I apologize for distancing myself from you, but I can’t keep pretending everything is fine. I missed you.”

You flushed at his confession. Was it a confession? Maybe he means he misses your friendship. You crossed your arms, trying to maintain your composure. "You've had years to say that, Mr. Sunday. Why now?"

"Because I've realized how much I've lost," he replied, his voice breaking. "I’ve been a fool, letting my pride get in the way. But I want to make things right, if you'll let me."

You felt your resolve weakening, the sincerity and desperation in his eyes hard to ignore. "It's not that easy…” you hesitate to speak his name with familiarity, “Sunday.”

"I know," he said, stepping closer, his face centimeters apart from yours. "But I'm willing to do whatever it takes. I've missed our friendship, and I've missed you."

Friends, huh? Realizing how close you were to Sunday, you pushed on his chest and he backed away. “Then make it up to me by eating this strawberry shortcake.” You quickly turned around so he wouldn’t be able to see your flustered face.

“It’s quite the improvement since we were children, if you even remember…” you trailed off.

"How could I forget? It was a mess,” he reminisced, as he stepped a bit closer. Ouch, that comment somewhat hurt your pride but it was the truth. “But it was the best-tasting mess.”

“Here,” you said, turning back around to face Sunday, one hand with a plate of strawberry shortcake and the other hand with a fork. Sunday took the fork from your hand, his fingers gently brushing against yours. The brief contact sent a shiver down your spine, and you quickly looked away to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice soft.

You watched as he took a bite, his eyes lighting up with the familiar joy you remembered. "It's perfect," he said, his voice full of warmth.

You found yourself smiling despite everything. "I'm glad you like it."

Sunday continued to eat the shortcake, savoring each bite. "It really is better than I remember," he said, his tone sincere. "But I remember those early days too. They were special because of you."

Your heart fluttered at his words. “You know…I missed you too, Sunday…” Wait, this is getting too intimate for just friends. “H-hey, save some cake for me too!”

Before you could process anything, you grabbed his fork and took a bite out of the cake. The familiar taste of strawberries and cream brought back a flood of memories, and you couldn't help but smile.

Sunday chuckled, the tension easing between you. "I guess some things never change," he said, watching you with a soft expression. You and Sunday continued to share the cake, the closeness of the moment bringing you both back to simpler times.

"So," Sunday began, his tone turning serious but gentle, his wings gently flutter with expectation. "Can we start over? Not just as friends, but...something more?"

You paused, looking into his eyes and seeing the earnest hope there. The years of distance and heartache seemed to melt away, leaving only the connection you both once cherished. "Maybe we can," you replied softly. "But it'll take time."

"I'm willing to wait," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I'm not going anywhere this time."

He leaned closer, his wings gently brushing against you neck tickling you, his breath fanning your face, his hand pulling you closer to him by your waist, his other hand making its way behind your head. This felt right, too right. This time you didn’t push him away; you leaned closer.

He pressed a soft, tender kiss on your lips as you grasped onto his clothes, feeling your legs weaken a bit. His lips tasted like strawberries and cream with a hint of vanilla, and you two seemed unable to get enough of each other. The kiss deepened, a mixture of longing and relief washing over you both, making up for the years of lost time.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and hearts racing, Sunday rested his forehead against yours, his eyes filled with a mix of love and determination. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he whispered, his voice shaky with emotion.

You smiled, your fingers still gripping his shirt. “Me too,” you admitted, your voice just as unsteady. “I was just too afraid to hope.”

“Never again,” he said firmly, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. “I’m here, and I’m not leaving.”

You leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand grounding you. “Promise?”

“Promise,” he replied without hesitation, sealing his vow with another kiss.

Robin peeked in, a knowing grin on her face. “I see you two have made some progress,” she teased gently.

You laughed, a lightness in your heart that you hadn’t felt in years. “Yes, we have.”

Robin stepped forward, her smile widening. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it then. I’ve got a feeling you’ll have a lot to talk about.”

As Robin left, you turned back to Sunday, your hand still in his. “So, about that lemon blueberry scone…” you said with a playful smile.

He chuckled, pulling you closer once more. “Let’s save that for later. Right now, I just want to be with you.”

For anyone wondering tarta helada is basically like an ice cream cake. I had a hard time choose a dessert for Robin until I came across a really cute character story about Sunday covering for Robin and they would sneak ice cream to eat together. 🥺