Chapter 27

Although I thought it was a bit warmer during the day, it suddenly turned cold in the evening.

The snow underfoot, which had been melting, had frozen, and I had to be careful not to slip and fall.

I certainly didn't want to fall in such a busy place with many people passing by. I walked carefully, putting just the right amount of force into each step.

I passed by the café where Wendy and I had been earlier.

Recalling the love story Wendy had told me earlier, a smile slipped out from under my scarf. I hoped everything would go well for her and that her smile would bloom even more.

As I walked down the usual alley, the warm sign welcomed me again today. The sign, which must have just been put out, was not covered in snow.

When I opened the door and went inside, I saw a familiar black-haired person leaning over a glass at the counter.

"Good evening."

Hearing my voice, he turned towards me. His thick, slightly wavy bangs and large glasses that covered his cheeks hid his eyes as usual, but his mouth, which was visible, curved into a wide smile. He was wearing a loose sweater that didn't accentuate his body, and his slight hunchback hadn't changed.

"Hey, how have you been?"

"Pretty well. It's been a while, how about you?"

"I've been doing alright too."

Noah pulled out the chair next to me. After hanging up my coat, I thanked him and sat down.

"Welcome, Alicia."

"Good evening, Emma. This is from my mother as a thank you for the cream puffs."

I handed a small paper bag to Emma, who approached the counter from the kitchen. She tilted her head but took it and pulled out a small box from inside.

"You didn't have to bring a thank you. Did they like them?"

"Yes, they did. My parents, brother, and the housekeeper and maid all said they were delicious. The maid, Dorothea, even started researching cream puffs, saying she didn't want to be outdone."

"That's wonderful. Isn't it, dear?"

Emma turned her head over her shoulder, and the master, with a slight smile on his lips, nodded slightly.

"What are you talking about?"

"The other day, we had cream puffs here. I was even given some to take home."

"Hey, I want to eat them too."

"Today, I have a different dessert prepared. Look forward to it."

As Emma spoke, opening the box, my anticipation grew. My appetite seemed to have returned, and I lightly rubbed my stomach, which was complaining of hunger.

What Emma pulled out of the box was a flower vase. It had a round, squat shape, small enough to be held in both hands. It had a leather handle, and I thought it was cute.

"Oh, how cute. A flower vase?"

"It can be used for flowers or candles, or anything, my mother said."

"That's lovely. Is this from your shop?"

"Yes. If you like it, come to the shop sometime."

"I already visit regularly."

"Thank you."

Emma, giggling, held the vase in both hands and examined it from various angles. Each time she said it was beautiful or cute, I felt happy too.

"Oh, I forgot to ask what you'd like. What will you have today?"

"I'll have a hot rosé wine. And something from the menu."

"Alright. Noah, are you ready to order something?"

"Then I'll have something from the menu too."

"Got it. Please wait a moment."

Emma, with a light step, returned to the kitchen. The master was pouring rosé wine into a small pot. Emma seemed to be showing the vase to the master, and a bright voice echoed.

"You've lost weight. Haven't you been eating?"

I blinked at the sudden voice.

I opened my mouth to answer, but the words disappeared when I looked at Noah.

"You too. Have you lost some cheek fat? Have you been busy?"

"Yeah... I guess so. Did you miss me?"

"Of course. Didn't you miss me too?"

"Yeah, I missed you so much I thought you'd appear in my dreams."

"You only thought it, didn't you?"

My heart leapt at the playful banter, but I was also a bit uneasy. Was this not a mistake? Was I too close? Was my voice too high? Was I acting like myself? I was excited, I think, because it had been a while since I saw Noah.

"Here you go."

Emma placed the hot rosé wine on the counter. I savored the sweet aroma. The strawberries and thinly sliced apples floating in the rosy liquid were indeed cute.

The master, who came from behind, placed two plates between Noah and me. One was a quiche, and the other seemed to be a fried dish.

"Quiche with oil sardines and onions. This is fried salmon. The sauce for the fried salmon is a tartar mixed with cheese and herbs."

While preparing the plates and cutlery, Emma explained. She said, "Take your time," and I watched the two of them head back to the kitchen. The sound of dishes clinking reached my ears.

"Here you go. Let's start with the quiche."

I saw that Noah was already dividing it for me.

He skillfully placed the quiche, already cut into eight pieces, on a plate and added a fork. He then placed two pieces of the fried dish on another plate with the sauce and set it in front of me.

"Cheers."

"Cheers. Good work today."

Noah seemed to be drinking white wine.

The glasses touched lightly, and a clear sound reached my ears.

I blew on the hot wine a bit before taking a sip. Yes, it was delicious.

The sweetness was balanced with a refreshing note, perhaps from the honey or the fruit. This had become one of my favorites.

I clasped my hands in prayer.

My slightly faster pace was a sign of affection, and I picked up my fork and generously coated the still sizzling fried dish with sauce.

I pierced a bite-sized piece of the fried dish with my fork and brought it to my mouth.

The crispy texture gave way to a burst of oil that almost burned my mouth. I pressed my hand to my mouth to let the hot breath escape, and a stifled laugh came from beside me.

I wanted to ask what was wrong, but I couldn't open my mouth because it was too hot.

With teary eyes, I managed to chew and finally taste the oil, which was so rich it was almost sweet. The salmon, with its firm texture, released flavor with each bite.

By the time I managed to swallow, Noah, unable to hold back, had slumped over the table, his body shaking.

"Was something funny?"

"Heh... Haha... You just looked so delicious eating it."

"It's delicious, but you laughed at that?"

"Sorry, sorry. I just like watching you eat. I've missed it."

"Really?"

As Noah straightened up, he took a deep breath, perhaps tired from laughing. I couldn't complain further, perhaps because I felt he really meant it.

Noah, taking a breath, also brought a piece of the fried dish to his large mouth.

And just like me, he ended up pressing his hand to his mouth to let the heat escape.

Watching him, I laughed this time.