Dristain Krike's stomach clenches as he walks towards your father's bakery. Once he'd heard from someone that you had come back to town to take care of your father he'd left his house. He was desperate to see you.

The two of you had never been very close, but he found himself morbidly fascinated by you when the two of you were children. Not just because of your beauty, but because he was a little jealous of the father you had. Sure, he had his mother while you didn't, but neither of his parents were as affectionate or doting as yours.

You'd also been an extremely kind, generous child. No matter how someone had mistreated you, you always painfully sweet to them. When someone at school was hungry, you gave them your food and you went without.

He'd never understood it, but nevertheless it interested him, you interested him. He'd never truly understood loss until you had moved away to pursue a life outside of where you'd grown up. He didn't understand the desire, and he had the means to keep you there.

He'd let you go through because it's what you'd do if you were in his position. It had still crushed him when you had left though. He didn't see the point in eating or drinking or sleeping for days when you left.

Dristain's heart begins to stutter as he pushes open the bakery door and a bell chimes to announce his entrance. His chest tightens as he watches you chatter with someone from behind the counter as you hand them a muffin. A nervous sweat begins to collect on his palms as he moves up in the short line.

His mouth goes dry as he sees a faint glimmer of recognition light up in your eyes. Then he nods to a scone, "I'd like two of those please."