☕︎
ch 11.
Gotta Let You Down.

"You seem extra cheery, folks!" I quipped, the clotted cream making a delicate eye over Jessie's Applin tea. Hawlucha provided me a saucer, and I added the sliced apple to it. 

"Yeah," James said, his eyes dreamy. "We've gotten the exquisite privilege to open our own kitchen. Isn't it fancy?" 

"Just perfect," I said with a chef's kiss, eliciting a snort of laughter from the magenta-haired woman. She took the cup I sent her way with a curve of her lips. 

"We've decided to name it Meowth's Morsels. What say you, twerp?" 

"Barista's kiss again." 

"Pleasure." 

Greninja called out from the kitchen, signaling that the Fennekin Banoffee Pie we were baking was done. Hawlucha immediately left to get it. 

"Think gourmet, think flair, luxury, and everything Team Rocket represents," Jessie said with a flourish of her stirring spoon as Hawlucha set the pie on the table. 

Meowth leaned against the counter, polishing his nails. "We scoped out the perfect and cozy location in this city. Cozy, classy, and close enough to reduce competition." 

"Uh-huh," I hummed, starting my hand at decorating the pie. "Your name's quite revolutionary too." 

Meowth sent a playful, narrow-eyed glare. "Say what you want, capisce. Once we get the hotel on the road, you'd be wishing you'd had a spot with us." 

"Incredible," I replied, lifting my cap in a mock salute. The three smirked and went back to their shenanigans, whispering rather loudly the names of their gourmets. 

I chuckled, turning my attention back to the pie, though my focus was fractured. The caramel swirled around like bows across the surface, accentuated by the banana slices. If anything, the swirls only felt forced as my hands worked on autopilot. 

It had happened two mornings ago—before the café *actually* opened for the day. She was standing there, the one I shared my first touch, first feelings, and first kiss with. 

I tightened my hold on the piping bag, pausing with the surge of that day. The memory of the embrace felt like a ghostly presence on my lips. The moment had been startling, awkward even, but now it felt like nothing more than the heaviness it had left in my chest. 

She hadn't stopped by since—not yesterday, not even today. 

I sighed, placing the piping bag aside on the counter and examining the pie. It had turned out decent—great even—but my mind refused to settle. Rather, it insisted on going all in and making it grander. 

For her. 

If she showed up before it perished. 

The door jingled as another customer stepped in, their arms wrapped around their coat. I signaled to Talonflame to help them warm up and left the counter to greet them with a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes. 

Serena's absence today felt a bit heavier than it did yesterday. Every tinkle of the bell had me looking up, only to have my hopes quashed. 

Returning to the counter and leaving the new customer's order to Greninja, I sized up the pie. 

"Hey, twerp," Jessie called out, a jaunty look etched on her face. I arched an eyebrow at her to continue. "You're spacing out, ain't you? You've been rooted to that pie ever since we got our orders. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you look lovesick." 

"Lovesick? Please," I lied, waving them off as nonchalantly as possible. My ears turned red, further amusing the three. "I'm just focused on getting this right." 

"Getting that right or the girl right?" James teased, wagging his eyebrows. I sent him a scowl and once again deviated back to the pie, adding an edible bow made of modeling chocolate. Now it seemed like the swirls of caramel were originating from the bow instead of the banana slices—an exquisite touch. 

I did a few more touches and stood looking at the innocent face of Fennekin drawn across the pie. It felt oddly off, but then I realized it wasn’t the pie’s fault; it was the emptiness I was feeling within. 

"Come now, twerp. Don’t hide behind that pie," Jessie continued, her voice taking a teasing tone. "Spill it—what’s going on between you and her?" 

I froze, the piping bag midway through a perfect swirl. My face must have given me away. After all, Jessie was too sharp for her own good. I could almost feel her smirking at me, aware she'd hit the mark I was trying to disguise. 

"I told you, it's nothing," I muttered, forcing a half-smile. "Just making sure the pie doesn’t fall short on anything." 

James snickered. "Oh yeah? We know how much you want the caramel swirl to be just right." 

I shot them both a glare, but it didn’t faze them. They continued smirking throughout their comments and making up ridiculous names for dishes as if they owned the place. 

I tried to focus again, but it seemed my autopilot had gone wrong, and the whipped cream was flowing in the wrong direction this time, as if tracing the path my mind left—the moment leading back to the kiss with my honey-blonde customer. 

It had been such a simple thing—an obligatory embrace. Nevertheless, its fleeting nature, mixed with something deeper, had my lips tingling for something more. 

What had it meant for her? Had she even thought about it since? Had I even crossed her mind once?

"Maybe you should talk to her about it," Meowth's voice interrupted my thoughts. 

I blinked and looked up. "I'm sorry?" 

"Maybe you should tell her what’s on your mind. You keep staring at the pie as if it’s going to give you any answers. Will it, capisce?" 

"What makes you think I need advice?" I retorted, a small scowl gracing my lips. "From you, of all people." 

Meowth shrugged, his eyes not showing a single hint of annoyance. "Because, unlike some people, I know it when someone’s heart’s in knots. Better spill the tea to her before it tangles itself more in that teeny-weeny ribcage of yours." 

His words hit hard, but I didn’t let it show. Instead, I chose to end the chapter of the pie by performing one final garnish of the whipping cream and dusting some cocoa powder over it. 

"You're not wrong," I mumbled, more to myself than anyone else. "But that doesn’t make it any easier." 

"Nothing worth having is," James empathized, his voice laced with gentle sincerity. "If you really want something, you have to fight for it." 

I paused, the sentence hitting me harder than the hail chattering against the windowpanes. A heartbeat passed as my eyes found the box she had given—the one housing the untouched but greatly appreciated gingerbread Pikachu. 

Before I could ponder further on it, my phone rang. Pikachu picked it up and climbed to my shoulder to hold it to my ear. 

"Mom?" 

"Hey, sweetie. Could I talk to you for some time?" Her voice rang out, just as soothing as always. My face broke into a smile despite myself. 

"Of course," I replied, wiping my hands on the apron and taking the phone from Pikachu. The mouse Pokémon retreated to the shelf containing Serena's gingerbread. I quickly scooted to it, withdrawing it from the shelf and sending him an apprehensive glare. "What's up?" 

"How have you been, honey? I understand the café's been keeping you busy, but don't you think it's been too long since you visited us? Your room's waiting for you." 

"It has," I replied, running a hand through my hair and retreating to the kitchen. Greninja was doing the dishes, so I leaned against the microwave. "But I don't know if I can make it to Kanto anytime soon..." 

Because of obligations.

"Oh." I heard the disappointment in her voice before it quirked up again. "But your dad's going to accept you as his apprentice for your apprenticeship in hotel management." 

"What?" I doubled over, eyes widening at the implications. "What about the c-café?!" 

"We'll find someone trustworthy, sweetie. Two years is all you have to stay here, and from there, you can go anywhere with your CC." 

I suppressed a groan, instead forcing my emotions into facepalming. "Right." 

"I'll give you some time to think about it, Ash." 

"Yeah, please." Mumbling, I pushed myself off the wall. At any other point, I would have given up and gone to Kanto. It might have been hard, but it would definitely pay off. "Bye, Mom." 

"Bye, sweetie." 

But now. 

Now, I have an obligation. Someone to give my heart to, if she was willing to nurse it.