It was during that part of the day that the shop started to get a little slow. The breakfast crowd was long gone, but the lunch group hadn’t arrived yet. There were a few people milling around or setting up shop with their computers at some of the tables, but the line that was once long a couple of hours earlier had disappeared for the time being. He’d already taken one of his allotted breaks not long ago, but Adrian found himself bored despite there probably being a list of things to do if he’d bother to actually ask. Instead, he was hunched over and leaning on the counter near the register glancing over some random notification from his professor giving a preview of his next class assignment. Adrian still enjoyed the art classes that he took here, but they weren’t the same as back home. He didn’t have the same drive that he had in Palm Springs but mostly attended and kept up with it because it gave him something to do and gave him an excuse to get out his paints.
Looking up from his phone, he saw Emilia come out with a fresh batch of something that was no doubt delicious. Everything the girl made was delicious. There wasn’t a day that went by that she didn’t threaten to add to his waistline. Thank god for Moroi metabolism because he sure as hell wasn’t putting his body through a work out. Having seen the dhampirs in his life train and work out on a regular basis, he knew that life was definitely not for him. Standing on his feet for several hours a few days a week was hard enough work for him.
The tasty pastries stayed the same but something about the girl baking them had changed over the last few days. This wasn’t the first time he’d noticed a change in her demeanor, but he hadn’t said anything to her about it. She never let on that she wasn’t okay, and he knew better than most people that someone could just had a bad day or two. He also knew better than most that when that day or two extended into three or four or five days then something was definitely not quite right. Em just wasn’t the sort of person to bring anyone else down by talking about what was wrong. So, he decided to take a peek into her moods for himself, and sure enough her aura had a darkness about it that wasn’t her typical bright hues of happiness and magic. The magic was still there, but the happiness faded in and out like a slow pulse.
Walking over to her with his usual smile, Adrian plucked up one of the new offerings on the tray as she loaded up the display case. He smirked as he popped the cherry tart in his mouth and she gave him her usual look of amused exasperation. “You know, I think this one might be better than the strawberry ones last week if that’s even possible,” He said as he started to reach out his hand for another.
“Is that right?” Emilia beamed at Adrian, despite the melancholy that had descended on her over the past several days. She’d been baking more than usual, trying to distract herself from her sadness as she buried herself in work, with varying degrees of success. The smile she gave Adrian now was genuine, though. It made her truly happy to know someone appreciated her baking.
Thinking about Cappie still hurt, but it was easier to push that away when she could focus on making someone else happy and she didn’t even try to stop him as he reached for a second tart. “I suppose flattery will get you seconds, but don’t eat them all. We have to have some for the customers.”
He smiled a bit and popped the second tart in his mouth. Damn, these things were good. Not that he was surprised that they tasted good, because literally everything she made was amazing, but how was everything this good? She might not have wanted to run out for the customers, but he was probably going to end up sneaking a couple more later. Just call him the Official Snoozle Taste Tester - committed to making sure the goodies stay fresh every hour, on the hour.
“So, what’s on the menu for this afternoon? I need to know how much room to save.” He smirked at that. Most of the time, working here helped him curb the liquid diet he was used to - both the blood and the alcohol. The blood appetite would eventually gnaw its way back every day or two when he was in need of a feeding, but he rarely itched for a drink when he was at work. Cigarettes, yes, but the alcohol he was able to leave at the door. Which was probably a good thing considering showing up pissed would put him on the naughty list. He chalked it up, at least partly, to the happiness that usually exuded off of Emilia. It was contagious even for him.
As he’d already noticed, though, she’d been a little off lately. Not gloomy by any means, but maybe a bit subdued. “And, hey, maybe you can teach me a thing or two about what you decide to make, yeah? A baking lesson.”
“That’s for your to find out later,” Emilia teased. She thought that maybe if he really wanted a lesson in baking, maybe she’d let him help her with this afternoon’s dish. With the tarts already made, she could show him her recipe, but a proper cooking lesson would be a bit more hands on. Teaching him a few things actually sounded fun and she found herself nodding.
“Yeah, I can do that,” she agreed, giving him a small smile. It still hurt, what had happened between her and Cappie, but she was trying not to let it affect her work or the others around her. She knew not everyone was going to be fooled - Emilia wasn’t the best at truly hiding her feelings - but she was attempting to go on with life as well as she could manage, anyway. Sitting around moping over what she couldn’t change wouldn’t do anyone any good.
“How are you settling back into Atlantis?” she asked as she started to move around the kitchen and organize her supplies. She knew he had been back a handful of months, but it could take time to adjust to this kind of thing, even when you had plenty of friends around.
"Yeah?" Adrian grinned at that. For a guy who probably was best left out of the kitchen - and who happened to work at a bakery - it was kind of surprising how much he was actually looking forward to this baking lesson. There was something to be said about a man who could cook, right? And Adrian Ivashkov was going to be that man. Maybe. No promises.
Back into Atlantis. That was still weird to think about. He shrugged and leaned against one of the counters. "Oh, you know. Just dealing with one crazy mishap at a time and still trying to get used to all of my friends being a lot older than they should be." Except for Eddie, he was about the same. But Jill, Lissa, and Rose. It was like time fast forwarded a few years while he wasn't looking.
"What about you? I mean, I know you've been here for a while and were in that other place before here, but all of this crazy shit still has to be... crazy, right?"
“Sometimes it is,” she admitted. “I’m a little more used to all the weird stuff than some people around here, but sometimes it’s a little... it’s not always easy to shrug it off, but you still have to, right? I mean, you could let it all get to you or you can make the most of whatever life you can make here in between all the things that happen.”
That’s what she tried to do. Just live life and appreciate the little things, like having her family here.
“Yeah, I guess,” he said thoughtfully. “Still, though. Sometimes you can’t always shrug it off. Sometimes it’s best not to shrug it off. There’s got to be a happy medium in there somewhere, you know?” Adrian was never the one to totally shrug something off, but he could ignore with the best of them. Ignore ignore ignore until it became too much and he had a downward spiral. Or someone like Sage who would bottle shit up until she exploded. Reacting to every little thing wasn’t healthy but neither was acting like it didn’t bother you at all.
“But what about those cooking lessons?” He asked with a smile, changing the subject. He’d hardly meant to be a debbie downer.
What else was she supposed to do? Fight something that couldn’t be controlled. Emilia would rather focus on what she could control, like making sure Snoozle kept running smoothly. She’d tried to fight Cappie’s decision to break up with her, but he had his mind made up and in the end all she could do was try to move on with life. It still hurt, obviously, and she didn’t love knowing what he’d done with Octavia, but she didn’t want to just sit around and dwell on it all.
She would have answered him, but then he changed the subject. “All right,” she said instead. “Let’s get started.”