The morning light spilled into the bakery, soft and warm, as Aaron prepared for another busy day. The steady hum of the espresso machine and the rhythmic motions of slicing bread were comforting, familiar. But today, something felt different—something was shifting, and Aaron wasn't sure what it was.
Ever since the brief, yet intense encounter with Eliot, Aaron's mind had been in a constant state of unrest. The memory of Eliot's eyes, his words, the way he seemed to both pull away and lean in all at once, had played on repeat in Aaron's mind. He couldn't shake the feeling that Eliot was hiding something—that there was more to him than just the quiet, mysterious figure who walked into the bakery every few days. And the more Aaron thought about it, the more he realized that he wasn't just curious about Eliot. There was a part of him that was drawn to him, an attraction he couldn't explain and didn't know how to handle.
Aaron was still lost in his thoughts when the bell above the door chimed, signaling the arrival of a customer. He glanced up, expecting to see one of the usual morning regulars, but his heart skipped a beat when he saw who had walked in.
Eliot.
The air in the room seemed to freeze for a moment, and Aaron's breath caught in his throat. There was something about Eliot that always seemed to command attention, something that made the ordinary feel extraordinary whenever he was around. And today was no different.
Eliot's gaze swept across the bakery, lingering for a brief moment before his eyes met Aaron's. A small smile tugged at his lips, but there was something guarded in his expression, something that Aaron couldn't quite place. He looked more serious today, more contemplative.
"Morning," Eliot said, his voice smooth, but with a touch of something deeper, something that seemed to resonate in the space between them.
"Morning," Aaron replied, trying to sound more composed than he felt. His hands were already shaking slightly as he wiped them on his apron. "What can I get you today?"
Eliot hesitated for a moment, his eyes studying Aaron with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. It was like he was seeing right through him, as if trying to figure out what Aaron was thinking before he even said a word.
"I'll have the usual," Eliot said, his voice quiet but deliberate. "And maybe… one of those chocolate croissants. I've been thinking about them since I was here last."
Aaron nodded, his hands working quickly to prepare the order. He couldn't help but notice the way Eliot's eyes never left him, how he seemed to be watching him with an almost unnerving focus. It made Aaron feel exposed, like Eliot could read him in a way that no one else could.
As he handed Eliot the bag with the rye bread and pastry, their fingers brushed, and for the briefest of moments, Aaron felt a rush of warmth flood through him. It was a fleeting sensation, but it left him unsettled. There was something about the way Eliot touched him, something that made him feel both seen and unseen at the same time.
"Thanks," Eliot said, his voice low. "I'll see you around."
Aaron watched him as he turned to leave, the doorbell chiming softly as he stepped out into the morning light. For a moment, Aaron stood there, frozen in place, his thoughts racing. What had just happened? Why did it feel like Eliot was leaving behind something unspoken in the air?
Aaron tried to shake off the feeling, but it lingered, heavy and unrelenting. He had to focus on work, had to push these confusing thoughts to the back of his mind. But as the day wore on, it became harder and harder to ignore the pull he felt toward Eliot. Every time he thought about him, every time he caught a glimpse of him in his mind's eye, the attraction only seemed to grow stronger.
---
The next few days passed in a blur of flour, sugar, and coffee. Aaron found himself distracted, his mind constantly drifting back to the moment he'd shared with Eliot. He couldn't stop thinking about the way their fingers had brushed, the way Eliot had looked at him, like he was trying to figure him out. It was like a puzzle that Aaron couldn't solve, but the more he tried to ignore it, the more it consumed him.
Then, one afternoon, as Aaron was preparing a batch of cinnamon rolls, the bell above the door chimed again. He turned, his heart skipping a beat when he saw who had entered.
Eliot.
But this time, there was a difference. Eliot wasn't alone. He was accompanied by another man, someone Aaron had never seen before. The man was tall, with broad shoulders and dark hair that fell messily over his forehead. He had a confident air about him, walking with a kind of swagger that made it impossible to ignore him.
"Hey, Aaron," Eliot greeted him, his voice warmer than usual. "This is Noah, my… friend."
Noah offered a friendly smile, his eyes flicking over Aaron for just a moment before returning to Eliot. Aaron felt a pang of something sharp and unfamiliar twist in his stomach. It was jealousy, plain and simple, and it surprised him. Why did it bother him so much to see Eliot with someone else?
"It's nice to meet you," Noah said, extending his hand. "Eliot's told me a lot about you."
Aaron took his hand, offering a polite smile, though inside, he felt a strange sense of unease. "Nice to meet you, too."
Eliot gave a small smile, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, something that didn't quite match the casual tone of his greeting. It was as if there was more to this meeting than he was letting on.
"So," Noah began, looking at the display of pastries behind the counter, "what do you recommend? Eliot's been raving about this place, so I'm expecting something amazing."
Aaron tried to push aside the awkward tension that seemed to hang in the air and focused on the task at hand. "Our chocolate croissants are pretty popular. And the cinnamon rolls are a customer favorite."
Noah raised an eyebrow. "Sounds good to me."
As Aaron prepared their order, he couldn't help but notice how at ease Eliot and Noah seemed together. They joked easily, laughed, and exchanged glances that spoke of a familiarity Aaron couldn't place. The way Eliot leaned into Noah's words, the way Noah touched his arm lightly—it made something inside Aaron tighten, a feeling he couldn't explain. He had never felt this way before—this strange, possessive feeling whenever someone else was close to Eliot. It was confusing, and more than a little unsettling.
But what bothered him the most was that he couldn't even figure out why he cared. He barely knew Eliot. They had shared a few conversations, some brief exchanges, but nothing that warranted this… feeling. Yet, it was there, undeniable and persistent.
As Aaron handed over the pastries and the rye bread, he tried to smile, but it felt forced. "Here you go," he said, his voice tight.
"Thanks, Aaron," Eliot said, his gaze lingering on Aaron's face for just a moment longer than necessary. There was something in his expression, a hint of something unspoken that made Aaron's heart race. But before he could respond, Noah spoke up, pulling Eliot's attention away.
"Let's go sit down," Noah said, a little too cheerfully. "I'm starving."
Eliot nodded, offering Aaron one last look before turning toward the door. "See you, Aaron," he said, his voice softer than before.
Aaron stood there, watching them leave, his heart sinking in his chest. As the door closed behind them, the emptiness in the bakery seemed to expand, filling the space with a quiet that felt heavier than before.
---
Later that evening, as the bakery emptied out and the last customers trickled out the door, Aaron found himself alone with his thoughts. The encounter with Eliot and Noah had left him unsettled, and he couldn't stop thinking about it. What was it about Eliot that had this effect on him? Why did he care so much about someone who, by all accounts, was nothing more than a fleeting part of his life?
But the truth was, Eliot wasn't just a fleeting part of his life anymore. He had become something more—someone who had woven himself into Aaron's thoughts in ways that Aaron didn't understand.
He was tangled in emotions that didn't make sense, emotions that made him question everything he thought he knew about himself. And as Aaron locked up the bakery and stepped into the quiet night, he knew one thing for certain—he couldn't keep ignoring the pull he felt toward Eliot. It was something he couldn't escape, no matter how hard he tried.
The threads were unraveling, slowly but surely, and Aaron didn't know where they would lead. But he was starting to realize that he might not want to know. Not yet.