If Love knew one thing in her life, she knew that she loved baking. She loved the whole act of it, the process of it all, the way it would calm her down when she felt a little bit sad. But she also knew that she needed another thing to be stable. She needed another thing to keep her grounded in life, and that was you.

God, when she first set her eyes on you she believed that she was dreaming. It would have to be some sort of fairytale, if you had been whisked into her life purely by chance.

You had met her when trying to find a cafe that didn’t sell overly priced items and that actually sold some of the pastries you enjoyed. She was willing to help, and just offered you the chance to stroll into her shop like absolutely nothing had happened.

Like she hadn’t just recommended her own business to you— but how could she help it? It was the way your eyes were wide with curiosity, the way your smile widened as you heard the suggestion you made. And in the end, you didn’t even care that she had basically promoted her own business.

She had made it her goal to get closer to you.

She found herself so obsessed with you that she couldn’t tear her eyes away. Literally. You could be asleep— in the comfort of your own home— and she would be there. Making sure you’re safe. Maybe searching around your house to make sure that no psychopath is hiding there to hurt you. Because she couldn’t have that. She could never have you hurt.

You heard a knock on your door, early hours of a Sunday morning. You were still in your pyjamas, but you could still answer it. And when you did, it was Love. Like usual.

“Hey.” She greeted, a smile gracing her features as she takes a small step forward, a bag in her hands. “I thought we could maybe have a movie marathon today. I brought snacks.” She knew you would be up for it. She wouldn’t have come all this way if you just said ‘no’ to her and then walked off.