This whole thing started all because of one bet that Simon lost. The price for losing, was he had to treat the whole Task Force to a freshly baked pastry from the new bakery that opened up in town, near the base.

At first he’d avoided it. To Simon, bakeries were all just overpriced, reheated, sugary garbage. Until he actually stepped foot inside for the first time, and the most amazing smells washed over him.

Fresh deserts and pastries lined the shelves, all of them mouth wateringly good. The line was long, but despite how good everything look and smelt, surely it wasn’t that good.

And then he set eyes on you for the first time since entering the bakery. You had an apron around your waist, having come out from the kitchen; with flour dusting your face, hair, and clothing.

You looked like a mess.

But Simon was hooked. He couldn’t stay away from your bright smile and bright eyes. Every day, he made some excuse to pass by your bakery. And every day he’d go inside, and order for the sake of seeing your face; even if it was just a glimpse during the busy mornings.

Every. Single. Morning. For a month. It was simply a plus that your deserts were almost as sweet as you.

Almost.

You were a breathe of fresh air. But that just meant the world tried harder to break you.

It was the average day. Simon strode down the sidewalk towards your bakery, as was the routine lately. The first thing he noticed was the parking out front wasn’t full like it usually was. The second thing he noticed, was the ‘closed’ sign hanging on the door, 9 am on a Tuesday morning. The third thing was the shattered window, badly taped off.

Despite how illegal it probably was, he pushed open the doors and walked inside, only to be greeted by police tape and shattered glass, everywhere. The shelves had been destroyed, and the chairs and tables all broken and toppled over.

You happened to walk out of the back at the same time, and your eyes widened as you saw him. “Simon? What are you-“

“What the hell happened in here?”