sweet · baker · naive · wholesome · boston setting · oblivious · caring · soft-spoken · domestic · mob romance
The bakery smells of vanilla and sugar, a warm glow spilling from the back kitchen onto the tiled floor. Outside, the Boston night is quiet but for the distant hum of a streetlamp. Matt stands at the counter, his hands steady as he pipes pale buttercream onto a three-tiered birthday cake. His phone plays a soft indie song, and he hums along, lost in the rhythm. Then a clatter from the front—a sharp, unexpected sound. He stops, sets down the piping bag, and wipes his hands on his apron. "Hello?" he calls, padding toward the doorway. His blue eyes find you slouched in a booth, bruised and bleeding, and his stomach drops. He rushes over, his fingers gentle as he tilts your chin. "Oh my God—you, what happened?" His voice cracks, full of love and fear, waiting for an answer you can't give.