"Did you sleep well?"
Amara froze from the deep and cold voice that entered her ears. She looked up and saw Azer looking down at her. His gaze was indifferent and seemed unbothered, but it still made her uncomfortable.
Gulping down the lump in her throat, Amara answered, "U-Uhm. Yes."
She couldn't explain why she always felt like she was facing something dangerous and beastly. Even though the man had always been helpful and generous to her from the beginning.
The clock inside the shop ticked. It resonated within the room because of the silence that ensued. Though it baffled Amara because the atmosphere became heavy and quiet, she remained mum and turned her head away from him.
"Glad to hear that." His voice echoed behind her.
"O-Oh…thanks," Amara replied. She took the paper bag from the counter and bowed her head slightly to the man. "I'll go ahead."
"Thank you for buying our bread, Miss. Please come back again!" The cheerful guy at the counter smiled at her.
Amara returned a timid smile and went out. As soon as she stepped out of the threshold, the door chimed again.
Thinking another customer had gone out after her, she moved aside and crossed the street, but halfway down the road, someone grabbed her recklessly.
Amara shuddered. That mere act slapped her with the memories of that night.
She immediately whirled around, ready to smack the bag full of delicious pastries into the one who abruptly grabbed her. But her hands stopped midway when she realized it was the handsome baker.
Azer raised his brow and smirked, "You're always ready to strike someone."
Amara slightly frowned. The man was teasing her, "You know why."
"Right. But I didn't bake those bread just to be used as a weapon."
Her frown disappeared and her face flushed in embarrassment. Does he expect her to pull out a sword instead? Of course, it's instinct to use something at hand immediately.
But his words surprised her, erasing her other concerns. "You baked them?"
Amara asked with amazement. The cakes and other pastries looked pretty as though a girl decorated them. Her eyes moved to his hands, and she wondered how those large and rough hands could create something so dainty and cute.
"Do you think someone did?" Azer asked, looking at her with amusement.
"Yeah. The designs…looked pretty so...I just thought a girl made them."
"Ah. The designs were made by that guy." Azer pointed to the man behind the cash register. He then looked back at her, "And I apologize for startling you."
"Just…don't grab me like that again." Amara averted her gaze. She realized they were standing in the middle of the road, so, she continued to walk to her shop.
Azer followed her. "How shall I call for your attention then?"
"Huh?" Amara looked back, letting go of the doorknob. She didn't expect him to follow her.
Azer was a few feet away from her. He wasn't standing under the parapet of her shop; therefore, his face was basked in the morning light. His grey eyes sparkled like crystal from the light, and Amara was almost tempted to touch those enchanting jewels.
"You always seemed like you were thinking something so deep," Azer spoke again, breaking Amara's trance.
She quickly moved her eyes away. It landed on the glass windows of the bakery shop, where all eyes of the customers inside were looking at them. Some pairs were glaring at her, some were looking with curiosity.
They probably wondered why someone like her caught the attention of this dashing man. She was used to being the center of gossip and insult, so, she was no longer bothered by their gaze.
She sighed and moved her eyes away again. "Have you ever tried calling me before?"
Azer chuckled. "I haven't."
Amara answered indifferently. "You can start with that, instead of suddenly grabbing me."
"Alright." Azer walked to her. "Amara."
He mentioned her name casually which took her aback, while he grabbed her hand this time. Amara flinched at the contact. It wasn't because she was scared of him, but somehow, after that incident, she became conscious and wary of men.
She saw anger flash in Azer's eyes when she looked up to explain. However, it disappeared quickly, and she simply thought that perhaps she was mistaken.
Something cold touched her palms, and she looked down to see what it was.
"You forgot your change." He said and whirled around without waiting for her answer.
Amara was left dumbfounded. She paid the exact amount. And the man was just standing behind her that time.
Amara sighed and shook her head. She counted the 'change' which was full of copper coins. She laughed lightly when the change exceeded three coins of the amount she paid.
It seemed that the man just grabbed a hand of coins from his pocket without even counting them.
"I should give something in return," Amara said to herself. She opened the door and went in.
She prepared the small table by the stairs where she always ate and drew. After checking the texture of the clay on the table, she sat on the chair and ate her breakfast. From her seat, she still could see customers coming and going in the bakery shop.
It was bustling, unlike the desolate and silent interior of her pottery shop.
Amara took a bite and munched on her food slowly, thinking it would have been nice if there were also people visiting her shop.
'But what should I give?' The thought dashed in her mind as she sipped her coffee. Her eyes moved to the mug she held, and an idea entered her head.
After filling her stomach, she gathered the pots she needed to take from her friend's flower shop. The market was just a few streets away from them. However, she needed a cart to deliver the vases.
She had one kept inside the storage room. Before, it was Gerard who would volunteer to help her deliver products using that cart. They would talk along the way about random things and would then eat lunch at a diner they had passed on the way.
But now, thinking of that man just made her furious already. Besides, she had been delivering orders on her own before the bastard came into her life.
She stacked the cart with boxes containing ceramics wrapped in paper and foam, then carefully pushed the cart toward her destination. As her pace was slow in fear of breaking the pots, it took her almost half an hour to reach the flower shop.
"Excuse me!"
Amara shouted from the open door. There was no one inside, but the sign on the door said 'open'.
She wondered where her friend, Vida, went to. She waited, but when several minutes passed and the owner was still nowhere to be seen, Amara opened the door widely and decided to carry the boxes inside.
"She must have gone to somewhere. Vida doesn't usually leave her shop like this." Amara talked to herself as she carefully put down the boxes in one corner.
Her friend, who was named Vida, was an immigrant from the Western Hemisphere. When she heard about where she came from, her jaw almost dropped to the floor.
The continent where the Kingdom of Avendelle lies was on the eastern hemisphere of the earth. Thus, it greatly amazed her when she learned that Vida came from the other side of the world. However, it made her wonder why the girl would rather migrate to such a far place away from her home.
She wiped her face after straightening her back.
Amara decided to look around the shop. The flowers lined on the long table were freshly picked, the foams were ready as well as the scissors and some colored parchment. This means that Vida was starting to arrange the flowers.
"Where could she be?"