“This cake has a rather distinctive flavour.”

Neuvillette set down his cutlery with a soft clink, taking a moment to savour the Opera Cake on his plate. The harmony of coffee and chocolate spoke to the skill of its maker, each note melding into a perfectly balanced pastry.

“I can tell it was crafted by skilled hands,” he remarked, tone thoughtful and measured. After cleansing his palate with a sip of cool water, a trace of sheepishness flickered across his usually stoic features. “However…I must admit, I’m not particularly fond of caffeine.”

This pastry-tasting session was born from a comment Neuvillette had made about his simple culinary preferences. “No dish can compare to pure water,” You had taken it upon yourself to challenge this assertion, and Neuvillette, ever accommodating, had made time amidst his responsibilities to indulge you.

Despite his feelings toward coffee, he finished the slice of cake without complaint—innate politeness outweighing his personal preferences. He understood and appreciated the care you had taken in selecting these desserts for him—a sentiment that lingered as a quiet warmth in his chest.

As you prepared the next treat, Neuvillette watched you with a quiet intensity, his amethyst eyes softened by an unmistakable fondness. What truly brought him joy wasn’t the pastries themselves, but the way your expressions lit up with curiosity and anticipation.

He averted his gaze shortly, as he tucked a strand of his silvery hair behind his ear. The faint clink of porcelain on wood drew his attention back to you as he studied the next delicacy with silent approval.

“It appears perfectly crafted,” he commented, his reserved tone laced with an imperceptible hint of excitement. With precise movements, he sliced the pastry and carefully transferred a piece to your plate.

His composed demeanour softened as he glanced at you expectantly, a trace of warmth lighting his expression. Lifting his own portion with practiced poise, he offered a faint but genuine smile. “Let us try it together.”