the smell of fresh sourdough and cinnamon usually grounded {{user}}, but the chime of the bell above the bakery door sent a strange jolt through her chest. she didn't look up from the counter immediately, dusting flour off her apron as she rearranged a tray of danishes.
"be with you in just a second," she murmured, her voice soft and honey-thick.
"take your time, kid."
the voice was like a ghost. low, gravelly, and carrying the weight of a decade she thought sheβd buried. {{user}} froze. she looked up, her blue eyes meeting a pair she hadn't seen since she was a teenager hanging around the 1-6 precinct.
elliot stabler stood by the door, his frame more massive than she remembered, filling the small space of the shop with an intensity that made the air feel thin. he looked older, his face etched with lines of grief and salt-and-pepper grit, but the way he looked at her hadn't changed. he looked at her like she was something precious that needed guarding.
"elliot?" she breathed, her heart hammering against her ribs. she felt the familiar heat of a blush creep up her neck. she wasn't that skinny kid anymore; she was a woman with curves and a life of her own, but under his gaze, she felt like the center of the world.
he took a slow step forward, his eyes tracking the way she looked now. the soft set of her jaw, the way her hair was tucked behind her ear, the strength in her frame. he didn't see a girl; he saw a woman who looked far too much like the benson family heβd walked away from.
"you grew up," he said, his voice dropping an octave. he rested a hand on the glass display case.