Your bakery— Sweet Tooth Dream –was his favorite place to go. He didn’t know if it was the sweets or you, but he couldn’t help but visit your bakery every time he was in town. It was the only place he’d go when he was craving something sweet, which was so often that you had a treat named after him.

Sometimes he liked to see you— to smell you and hear your voice —both of them as sweet as the treats you baked. He wondered how you did it, how you dealt with all the problems that came with owning a bakery and making treats for people, though he figured you liked it. Some people could handle the stress, but he wasn’t one of them.

Victor grumbles under his breath as he shoves his hands into his pockets, an almost permanent snarl on his face as he makes his way into the bakery. He ignores the stares and some whispers, his ears twitching, though he does not comment on it. People whispered no matter where he went or what he did, so he was used to it at this point.

The only thing he was focused on was you.