8. Talon
TALON
It’s silly. I shouldn’t do it. Wick and Wren will make fun of me. But this morning, the fields between my house and Hex proper are covered in flowers. It’s not the musical flowers of the Fae lands, but they’re beautiful nonetheless.
Grumbling, I go off the path and start gathering flowers in my hands.
I don’t even know what kind of flowers they are.
I just know they’re pretty, and I think Wren will like them.
After the other day, I’m trying hard to not come across as an asshole, but I don’t know how to do that most of the time.
My inner griffin tells me to just be myself, but myself is kind of just a loner.
I have an entire fistful of flowers by the time I make it to the main Hex road.
I’m still making excellent timing even though I kind of detoured by picking flowers.
My face heats and not from the humidity.
Anyone that sees me will see me with a bouquet of wildflowers.
Maybe I should abandon the idea. But the flowers smell so fresh and they’re so pretty.
I unlock the building and let the lingering scent of the bakery calm me down. I lock up behind me because I don’t want random people coming in until it’s time to open shop.
We don’t really have a vase in the bakery, so I wrap the flowers in parchment paper until I can do some cherry tarts, then I carefully clean the can and plop the flowers inside.
I fluff the flowers a bit. My cheeks heat again.
Why am I bothering trying to arrange them?
My shoulders drop and I just stare at the petals.
This is silly. I growl into the empty room and go back to my morning tasks.
I have to get as much of our regular goods done as possible before we can get to the experimental stuff for the Summer Festival. Everything is muscle memory now and I move on to more tarts before starting on the daily breads.
I’m so deep in my routine I don’t notice Wick until his tail pokes my back. I yelp and flour flies when I spin to face him.
“What?”
Wick holds up his hands. “Nothing. Just saying hi and asking about the flowers.” He tips his head to the sad can of flowers on the far counter.
I don’t wanna talk and go back to my tasks.
“Well, they’re pretty.” He lifts the can. “I’m going to put them out front so everyone can see them. Unless you have objections?”
I shake my head.
“Good talk.” He chuckles and heads back to the front counter.
Now I notice the hustle and bustle of the front end of the bakery and flick my eyes to the clock.
7am. We’ve been open for an entire hour and I hadn’t even noticed.
I was so worried one of them would make fun of me for the flowers that I zoned so far into my job I hadn’t heard a thing.
Good thing I always lock up as soon as I come in.
Someone could have waltzed right in and stole everything.
“Knock. Knock?” Wren’s voice rings in my head and I can’t bring myself to look fully at him. “Wick asked me to grab more napkins, but I have no idea where they are.” He comes into view wearing a clean apron. His hair’s pulled back, revealing the undercut. Those green eyes look to me for answers.
“Cabinet in the break room. Third drawer down.” I nod towards the side door.
A bright smile lights his face. “Thank you, Talon.” He turns to leave, but stops. “The flowers are lovely.”
I grunt out a sound, only half acknowledging the comment. These rolls won’t make themselves.
Wren nods and finally leaves me alone again. I let out a sigh. Any room he’s in feels like I’m drowning. There’s so much life and energy swirling around him I can’t breathe sometimes. But neither of them made fun of me for the flowers.
A small smile tries to take over my lips.
Okay, the next assignment is to actually talk and not be short with either of them.
The flowers should have been my ice breaker, but I’m still too embarrassed to admit out loud I picked the flowers and I enjoyed it.
I’m such a simple guy, flashy things make me uncomfortable.
But Wren’s flashy and pretty and his voice is like the sweetest melody and—
“Earth to Talon.” Wick waves his hand in front of my face.
I blink and realize I’ve been zoned out and thinking about how pretty Wren is for way too long. “Yeah?” My mouth’s dry and I swallow, but it doesn’t help.
“Ready to work on today’s experiment?” Wick wiggles a flat box filled with pints of strawberries.
“The last of the breads are in the oven now.” I wipe at my brow with my arm.
“Take twenty. I think today we’ll try a strawberry lemon combo.”
“I just—”
“Go take a break, Talon. Eat something, you’re getting hangry.” He waves me off and lifts more strawberries to the worktable.
In my haste to get here today, I forgot to bring my lunch. But Wick’s right, I’m getting even more grumpy than usual. I could go some place to grab something, but it’s more convenient to just grab something here. I pull off my hair and beard nets. Wick gives me a smile and shoos me off.
Okay. Okay. I can do this. Get some lunch and talk to Wren. Nothing to it. I push my fear away, but my heart still pounds so damn hard.
All of the tables are full, which brings more noise than I like. No one’s at the counter, so I don’t have to wait. Wren looks up at me when I step up to the counter.
“Talon! How can I serve you?” There’s a sparkle in his eyes and he knows exactly what he’s doing by using serve instead of help. There’s something off that I didn’t notice earlier. The dark circles look out of place on his usually sunny persona.
“You look awful.” I drop my head back. Why the hell are those the words that come out of my mouth? “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”
Wren runs a hand over the shaved part of his hair like he forgot it’s gone. He chuckles and drops his hand. “I wasn’t aware that I looked anything other than perfect.”
“You always look perfect.” What the hell, brain?
Wren tips his head and puts his hands on his hips. “Well now, I’m just confused.” There’s a teasing grin on his lips. “Do I look awful or perfect?”
“Awfully perfect?” I pat myself on the back for being smooth that time.
That makes Wren laugh his magical laugh. His eyes light up and the dark circles seem to fade for just a moment.
“Honestly, I’m not surprised if I look a bit rough. Didn’t get much sleep last night. Kept having dreams about the Winter Court and one patron in particular. He wasn’t a bad guy, but I don’t think about him constantly. So it’s weird he’s in my dreams.”
“Really weird.” Unless—
“So, what can I get for you?” Wren goes back to being professional.
“Can I get two apple crumble muffins and a chocolate croissant?”
“Coming right up.” He spins on his heels and has my order together in no time.
He’s frowning when he faces me again. “I forgot to ask if you want them warmed and buttered.” He looks up at me.
“Would you like anything warm and buttered?” There’s a blush to his cheeks, and he drops his eyes.
There’s probably a joke in there somewhere he’s fighting from making.
I shake my head. But I really do enjoy my muffins warmed and buttered. “The muffins, please.”
He nods and unbags the muffins quickly. He plates them together and expertly cuts them down the middle before popping them in the toaster oven.
When the timer dings, he pulls them out.
With a heavy hand, he butters all four pieces, which is perfection.
He walks the plate back to me and grabs a couple of napkins before handing it over.
“Enjoy.”
I nod to the register. “How much?”
“Oh!” He starts pressing buttons, then stops. “Wait. We get a free meal each shift.”
I’m just standing there holding my plate of muffins and croissant. “I forgot about that. I usually just bring lunch from home.”
“At least grab a muffin every day.”
“I’ll try to remember.” But then I’d have to talk to Wren to get my food and I don’t think I can do that every day. My inner griffin circles in my head. He wants out. He’s certain he could woo the pretty Fae much better than I can. Unfortunately for him, I’m not trying.
Wren nods as I head to the break room. There’s not a free table out front and I like being alone when I eat.
Halfway into my second muffin, Wren comes into the break room with a buttered honey croissant. “Sorry to interrupt, but Wick forced me on a break.” He wiggles his plate. “Won’t say a peep if you don’t want me to.” He sits across from me and acts like he’s zipping his lips.
“You can talk.”
Wren pulls his croissant apart and eats it slowly. I try not to watch, but everything he does seems to be an act I can’t look away from. He notices me watching and puts his next bite down.
“Sorry,” he says.
“For what?”
“I’m used to…” He rolls his hand as if it’ll help him think. “Performing everything. I’m still trying to break the habit of arousing someone with how I eat.” He chuckles, but it’s more self deprecating than joyful. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything.”
“I wasn’t.” My next bite goes down wrong, and I start a coughing fit. Oh joy.
Wren rushes from the room and returns with a bottle of cold water. He opens it and hands it to me while patting me on the back.
“Thanks,” I rasp out as soon as I catch my breath.
We both go back to our food. Wren seems to pick at his more than eat it though.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, which surprises me.
“Nothing,” he mumbles.
“Liar,” I say, and hope it comes out jokingly. I don’t want him to think I’m actually calling him a liar.
He shoots me a flirty look and grins. “I can’t lie, I’m Fae.”
“Nothing is a nothing answer, and it allows you to lie. You can take my question, what’s wrong, and mentally apply it to something that has nothing wrong and you’re not lying.”
“You think like a Fae.”
“I am from the Fae lands. I know how the lot of you think sometimes.”
He tears his food apart, making his hands sticky and buttery. “I can’t stop thinking about the dreams last night. They didn’t feel like dreams.”
“Some Fae have the ability to manipulate dreams.”
“I know and I didn’t think Lord Yelling had that ability. Talk about omitting the truth.” His face falls. “As far as I know, there’s no way to stop it.”
“Maybe Lark can go petition this Lord Yelling to stop?”
“Oh, no. I’m not asking Lark to get into this. This is my problem to solve. And it might not even be Lord Yelling himself. He could have hired someone. ”
“I understand not wanting to get Lark involved, but you can’t go back to the Winter Court on your own. You need someone to advocate for you.”
“Nope.” Wren stands with his plate. “Break’s over.” He goes to throw away his destroyed croissant, but I stop him.
“I’ll eat that if you’re not going to.” I hold out my hand for the plate and he passes it over before leaving the room. My shoulders slump. Damn it, even when I’m trying to be nice, I fuck things up.
Just as I’m licking the butter and honey off Wren’s plate, he returns.
“Wick says I can’t come back for at least another ten minutes.” Wren drops back into his chair across from me and crosses his arms. He leans back and glares at the ceiling.
“The couch would be more comfortable.” I wave to the giant purple monstrosity on the opposite wall.
Wren opens one eye and looks at it. “It does look nice.” He strolls over and bounces softly on the middle cushion. He pulls his knees in and lays. “Just a few minutes.”
“I’ll wake you up in ten.”
He nods as he settles into the position he wants. “Thanks.”
We exist like this for a few minutes with me watching him and the clock.
He’s peaceful with even breathing despite me watching him.
His lashes are so thick. His skin is so pale, he usually has a slight tan.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen him without perfectly manicured nails until now.
I’m a little surprised that Sparkle hasn’t painted his nails for him.
I get so caught up in watching him I forget to watch the clock. My eyes flick up and it’s been fifteen minutes instead of ten. Shit.
“Wren?” I say.
“Mmm? Five more minutes.”
“I accidentally already gave you five more minutes.”
His eyes fly open, and he pops up.
“Hey, hey.” I lift my hands and hope to calm him.
“Wick’s not gonna be mad.” Wick’s never mad.
He’s probably one of the happiest demons I know.
Actually, that’s a lie. Most of the demons I know are happy.
More than likely because the demons I associate with all have partners and everyone seems so full of love, it makes me jealous at times.
“I know, but it’s only my second day. I probably shouldn’t be late getting back from a break.” He smooths his hands down his front, but the apron’s still creased.
“Honestly, I still feel bad if I come in late.” I push to my feet and gather the plates. “But Wick always has a smile on his face.”
“I’ve noticed. It’s refreshing. At court, so many people always had frowns I had to turn upside down.” He draws his forefingers up his face as if to mimic turning a frown to a smile. “Sometimes all the smiling is insufferable, though. Is love truly that amazing?” He leaves me with that thought.
I don’t know if love is so amazing, but it’s something I want to experience some day. If anyone ever found me worthy of love.