Author's Note- Commonplace 2p names will be used for this story besides 2pPrussia. He will be known as Siegmund.

From the time an infant takes its first breath, most will have two different eyes until the moment they reciprocate love with their soul mate. Some are born with matching eyes, and do not feel as obligated to search for 'The One.' Sometimes, several people can share the same pattern, thus sparing the challenge and supposed joy of seeking out another half to fill the gap.

Siegmund could only admit inwardly to himself that he had not put in great effort to find his 'One and Only.' He had things to bake, customers to feed, and a potentially mad baker to keep an eye out for. All right, Oliver was not that bad, but being around him for prolonged periods of time proved to be corroding to the mind and the teeth with the way he stuffs his company with sweets.

Not that Siegmund complained; he could not, really, being mute. Baking was relaxing, and could be done alone. The aroma was lovely, and he could bask in all his lonely glory between him and the cupcakes. His station was in the kitchen, and Oliver situated himself behind the counter in the front dining room to assist customers and take orders. On slow days, the baker would gab and babble about the most trivial things to his employee, or to himself. Honestly, Siegmund was not yet sure, but he did not find a lot to complain about.

...fine, he had plenty to complain about, and no means to be able to do so, since who in their right mind would take time and effort out of their own lives and pay heed to a ghostly mute? First impressions are out the door and blowing down the street when eyes determine who goes with whom. Everyone checks anyone else's eyes as soon as conversation starts to see if they are worthy to get to know. Even if it should not matter to friendship as it did, people were very picky and demanding until both their eyes were the same color.

However, it seemed like others did not even want to look into Siegmund's eyes, as giddy as the intimacy sounds. He was silently baffled to why they seemed to jump over him. He was quite the awesome guy, after all, though he kept that mostly to himself. Perhaps it was best for him, and other people that he did run amuck in the world, to glance at everyone's eyes in hopes to somehow bump into his 'Other Half.' As he went over with himself (since conversations with everyone else was so one-sided) before, he liked it in the bakery. It was quiet, like him. A sudden intrusion would break that fragile hold on peace, and take his time from the most important person to him - himself.

The bell hanging against the main door jangled against the glass, signaling a new potential customer has wandered inside the bakery. Oliver's voice broke from such a high pitch, "Well, hello, you three!" Oliver's sarcasm was grating to the ears. More so than his normal tone. Ugh. His forced customer-service smile shot above his words, "What do you need?"

"Cupcakes," a near whiny voice drug out. Again, ugh. "Why else would we be in a bakery?"

Siegmund peered around the door frame to eye the newcomers as Oliver announced, "You can get other things from a bakeshop, Luciano."

"Yes, but we want cupcakes."

One of the other men flanking his sides perked up at the sight of the mute. "Siegmund! I was wondering where you were hiding!"

Hurrying around the counter, Siegmund held out his arms toward the blond while everyone else followed his movements, silently condemning their quick embrace. He tossed a glance over his shoulder before signing to his brother, Lutz, 'What is with these guys?'

Lutz shrugged. "Kuro is not so bad."

Kuro grimaced while Luciano looked as if he were going to lash out at the brothers like a rabid feline. From force of habit, Siegmund nonchalantly gazed at their faces while Oliver affirmed their order in an equally snippy tone. Kuro's eyes appeared to look the same; if he found anybody, his dark reds made no remarks about it. He could be one of the lucky ones that never have to worry about these trifling matters. Luciano, however, had one fierce violet eye, and the other was more of a pale purple. Baffled, the mute glanced to Lutz.

"Of course, sir," Oliver swooped behind the counter to excavate the display case.

Luciano managed to keep quiet for five breaths before blurting, "I see you are still solo as ever, Oliver."

Before Siegmund could open his mouth from offense, Oliver almost cheerfully shot back, "I am afraid that is none of your business, dear Luciano." He stood with a box full of goodies. Lutz shifted foot to foot as if he were excited at the prospect of a stash of cupcakes. "The usual amount, please."

"What," Luciano dropped his money on the counter instead of Oliver's outstretched hand. "Don't you care? Don't you even go outside and look? You're paler than Siegmund!"

Oliver's smile weakened, but his balled fists were the true indicators that Luciano struck a sensitive chord. "Is that you looking out for me?"

As expected, Luciano grew horrified. "N-no! I am just putting that out there! Your love is not going to just waltz into that door right there, you know? So...stop moping, go outside, and see the sun and other people for once to see how they're like. Who knows what you'll bump into? Hopefully it's a car...speeding down the street. I'm not looking out for you."

Lutz patted his brother's back before he followed Kuro toward the door, who was always in a rush to get in and out. The baker's grin returned to full power as he flapped a hand at the trio's departure. "Have a bloody fantastic day, Luciano!"

"Go eat some scones!"

"Why, thank you for the marvelous idea!"

Luciano stomped out of the door, out of the bakery without another word or glance back. His clique trailed him like double shadows. Despite Siegmund's disproval of Lutz tangling himself with such friends, he knew the deep reason for it. He turned to Oliver, who scowled at the counter with his plastered smile.

"Hey," the baker seethed, and Siegmund bristled from the unusually sharp tone. "Let's go bake something...to take our minds off of things."

The mute eagerly nodded before his boss would start murdering people. Perhaps that would be overboard, but he did not put it pass the baker. He hurried after him into the kitchen, but baking only occupied the hands, not the mouth (except for taste tests) or mind. He kept bobbing his head to let Oliver know he was attentive, even if he was talking to himself during his vigorous mixing.

"I swear, he just swings by because he has nothing better to do every cursed week. I cannot believe you let your brother run with that crowd."

So he was talking to Siegmund. The mute stared blankly at the other man. Lutz was an adult now; he had to make his own decisions. As always, Siegmund did not protest in anyway, since Oliver bounced to a different subject with his rear end sticking out of the refrigerator. "Oh no, are we almost out of milk? Somebody needs to go to the store tonight!"

Siegmund tossed a nervous glance from the corner of his eye. Was that someone him? Oliver sighed lightly as he pushed the door close a bit too roughly, as if the near lack of milk was his tipping point. However, instead of bursting into tears, a probable possibility, a sultry smile played his flecked features. "I bet Allen would be able to cheer me right, the idiot. Hee-hee!"

Siegmund's stirring slowed at his boss' sad giggle. That guy. For the third time, ugh. Well, guys, as in more than one, since Allen has a seemingly inseparable brother despite like, nothing being said between the two. Overlooked, and unmentioned. Just like Siegmund. Shrouded in mystery with simple sunglasses, neither of the bakers knew what their eyes looked like. However, the brothers could see everything.

It should have not bothered Siegmund as much as it did. He wanted to know, damn it, so stupid hope would stop flaring from inside of him. So, yes, he was curious, but unlike Oliver, he did not swoon at the possible waste of time. There was a suspicion floating somewhere in the mute's mind that Allen was playing some sort of stupid game, but if he made the baker feel better and stop moping in that horrendous manner, then he minded his own business.

'Why don't you call him, numb nuts?'

Oliver tipped his head at the flurry of motion from Siegmund's hands. "Pardon?"

He had no idea what the mute said. Ever. It was both hilarious and annoying at once. Siegmund stuck out his thumb and pinkie finger and brought his hand to his ear. He mouthed, "Call him."

"Huh? Oh! Oh!" Oliver bounced excitedly. "That's a marvelous idea!" As he pushed by for the front room where the phone sat on the counter, he lightly slapped Siegmund's shoulder. "You are so smart!"

Thanks, Siegmund silently and sarcastically thought back. He decided to focus on the sounds of his spoon scraping the sides of the bowl instead of the chatter from Oliver's end. He had just set the baking pan into the oven when his boss whisked back into the room, already in a brighter mood. "He's on his way, ha-ha."

Siegmund picked up the now empty milk jug and shook it.

"Err, yes, if you need anymore, you can use the milk from my flat. Or...take a quick trip to the market? Maybe I'll send Allen with you. Make him carry it. Hee-hee!"

As if he could not stand waiting, Oliver drifted back into the front room to lean against the front counter and keep a vigilant eye on the windows. Siegmund stayed in the kitchen, almost guarding the oven. He did not want to go to the store with someone tagging along with him, especially as noisy as Allen. He smiled like he was going to bite the mute's head off too much. Why could Oliver not see he was perfectly capable of performing these menial tasks by himself? He did not need to talk to the cashier; all he needed was to put the money down and leave the checkout person to bask in their lifelessness as he went on with his day.

Siegmund must have been stewing for quite a while, since the front door opened, smacking the attached bell, which snapped his gaze from the floor. Both Oliver and the newcomer obnoxiously called out greetings to one another with unnecessary volume. The mute sighed at the lost of a calm atmosphere, and pushed from the kitchen counter to join the ruckus. Only the other brother, Matt, seemed attentive to his entrance. Allen just yanked on the ribbon that hung around Oliver's neck.

"Allen! You daft-"

"So, where are those brownies you were talkin' about?"

"Brownies," the word tumbled from Matt's mouth, as if there was nothing else on his mind.

"I know, but they're still in the oven," Oliver tugged his neck wear back into a neat bow. "I thought by the time you arrived, they would be ready, but you gotten here awfully fast."

"Yeah, 'cause brownies!"

"Oh? Not because I wanted you to come over?"

"Well, whose givin' us the stuff?"

Matt shuddered from their cooing tones, and stalked off to find a seat in the far corner. His brother went back to the most important thing. "So, they're in the oven right now?"

"That's what I said," Oliver sighed, and absentmindedly swiped the counter. Siegmund coughed into a fist, causing him to slightly jump and look to him in surprise. "Oh, right, of course. We're out of milk for the bakery."

Allen gazed at the baker with a vaguely confused grin. "Yeah, what 'bout it?"

"Do you want some milk with your brownies?"

"Of course."

"Then I need to you to be a doll, and go with Siegmund to pick up a few cartons."

"Why can't he..." Allen's head turned to the mute's direction. "Oh, right. Yeah, I guess we can do that."

"Thank you, Allen," the baker said in god-awful tone that grated Siegmund's ears. What a joke. Everything was a joke. Flirting was useless, shallow and meaningless in this bitch of a world. He hoped to the stars that his 'One' was not like that at all. Then again, he would have to find him or her or them first, and that is a feat in itself. Oliver held out some money from the cash register for Siegmund to take it, once again bringing him back from his heinous thoughts. "Watch out for cars. Those people are praying to run someone over."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll look after him!" As if Siegmund could not look after himself. He sharply exhaled through his nose as he passed Allen, ignoring the supportive arm he held out for who knows what. "All right, then. Hey, Matt, you goin' with us?"

"No."

Allen stopped in his tracks before the door. "Matt, come on."

"Allen, I said no. I'm staying here."

"You better not eat all the brownies on me!"

"That's on you."

Oliver called, "The longer you take, the more brownies will be eaten!"

"Shit man!" Allen hustled to the door with Siegmund not far behind. "Let's go. Let's...get some milk."

Out of the bakery, he actually quieted. The mute theorized the cause must be the lack of people willing to pay him attention. He snickered to himself at Allen's hunched gait; hands stuffed in his jacket pockets if he was cold, and sunglasses pointed to the ground. It was like a noisy toddler had gone to sleep and unknowingly eased his mother of a building headache. He suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, and the mute rammed into his shoulder from the effort it took to keep up with his pace.

Siegmund gritted his teeth, wondering why the metaphorical toddler had risen from his crib. He glanced up to his company's face, which was on the distant street. His mouth opened, but then snapped shut. If he was thinking, it was taking a heavy taxation on him. Allen tried again, "I...I was thinkin'...I was thinkin' of askin' Ollie out on a date or somethin'."

Or something? Suspicious, Siegmund narrowed his eyes. Better Oliver than him, he supposed, but he still had look after the crazy guy. He was one of the few people that he could consider a friend on a good day. The mute lashed up, and hooked a finger around the shades always perched on Allen's nose, and yanked them off.

"Whoa! Hey, what the fuck!" Allen shook his head, and glared at Siegmund with a scarlet eye, and a teal eye. "Gimmie those back!"

Siegmund skittered backwards, keeping a firm hold on the shades. He put his free hand on his waist, letting Allen know he was demanding answers. The other man halted at his gesture and the threat of never getting back his sunglasses. He sighed, and held his arms from his sides. "All right, you caught me. I got Ollie's eyes. Or he got mine. We both...yeah."

The mute took a step back when Allen tried to grab for his glasses. He mouthed, 'Why?'

"What? Why? Why what? I don't know what you're askin' me!"

Siegmund kept glaring. Allen drew a shaky breath and ran a hand through his dark hair. "It's just so dumb, y'know? Everybody gotta peek at you, and hurry along if you ain't what they think they're lookin' for. Nobody can bother for a nice slow talk with anybody. Come on, we gotta get that milk."

Allen went to swipe his glasses, but Siegmund switched them to his other hand, glaring until the other man stuffed his grubby fingers into his jacket pockets. "That don't mean I ain't lookin' for 'The One,' y'know? And when I saw Ollie, woo," despite the theft, he cracked a dazzling and broad grin. "I couldn't believe I found my guy. But like, I didn't want to just jump into things. I wanted him to know me at least a lil' bit before maybe...however these things work."

Siegmund tipped the shades in his hand before sticking them onto his own face. The Sun was in his eyes. Allen gave him a sour look, but continued, "I wanted to know him, too. I still do, but he thinks I'm playin' some sort o' game with him. I'm not," he quickly added. "Even if we didn't match, I'd still like for him to be my friend. Both o' you are pretty neat guys."

Maybe a friend of a friend at best, but Siegmund did not rain on his parade. Perhaps now that he knew that Allen was definitely not his match, he was less annoyed by him. One down, one brother left to go. Matt sat in the corner of the bakery, quietly eating and staring off, and the mute knew what it was like to be outcasted in a group. He never brought it up, though, just in case that was what the strange man wanted. Unwanted attention was just as bad as loneliness.

The journey in and out of the market was quiet, but back to the bakery, Allen started to ramble like his usual self. "It's weird that they call 'em brownies, don't you think?" He snorted, not needing an answer to carry on the conversation, "Like, brownies, 'cause they're brown, I know that, but not all brownies are all brown. Sometimes they got white chocolate in 'em. I just think it's kinda stupid. Brownies. Hmph."

Matt and Oliver were huddling close to one another on opposite sides of the front counter when they returned, as if they were exchanging secret gossip. They straightened, both watching the other duo as they drew up to the counter and deposited their jugs onto the surface.

"Oh, h-hi," Oliver quickly directed his gaze to the milk. "You two are back. That was rather quick!"

"Yeah, you know what I'm after."

"Allen," Matt hissed, jabbing a finger at his own eyes.

"Err, yes, they just came out of the oven." The baker gathered the milk cartons in his arms, and quickly retreated into the kitchen.

"Ooh, yeah, the brownies!" Allen had that goofy grin again as if it were permanent on his face. "Totally forgot about those for a second," despite chatting about the subject all the way back to the bakeshop.

"Yeah," Matt growled, "You seemed to forget your glasses, too. Unless you thought this was a good time?"

"What?" A hand flew to Allen's nose. "Shit!" He snatched the shades from Siegmund's face, who blinked in surprise. "You don't think he noticed, did you? I mean, there was the milk..."

"Ah, yeah, I like to look at milk than the person I'm talking to."

"Well, when it comes to you, Matt, you do!"

"That's it." Matt declared, "I'm going to eat your brownies."

"No, wait, we can be cool about this..."

"Are you going to continue to be a little shit head?"

Siegmund glanced to Allen expectantly. "With my brownies on the line? No way!" He craned his neck to peer pass the doorway behind the counter. "Hey, stay here you two. I'm gonna see what Ollie's up to."

"See?" Matt pointed out as his brother shuffled into the kitchen. "That's how you get 'em by the balls."

The mute stared at him in shock before a wheeze escaped his throat. He turned away, bent forward, and shaking.

"Wha...? Hey!" Matt rushed to his side, hands hovering, but not touching Siegmund's heaving back. "Are you all right? What's happening?"

Siegmund snapped up, pressing his mouth in a thin line to try to maintain a straight face, only to let out a nasty snort and double over again. He swished a hand, trying to let his company know he was fine, and not having some kind of scary spasm.

"Are you...are you laughing?"

He vigorously bobbled his head.

"Oh?" Matt took a step back, still holding his hands up. "Oh."

'Funny joke.'

"I'm sorry, I don't understand."

Siegmund shrugged, straightening from his fit of laughter. Not many people did. He was used to it. Both of them jumped when a plastic bowl hit the floor.

"You stupid cheeseball!" Oliver shouted from the kitchen. For once, there was no underlining cheer in his voice. "You think this is a game? Get out. Get out!"

"Oliver-"

"Out!" The baker shot over Allen's dissent, "Out, biscuit brains!"

Matt echoed, "Biscuit brains?" He and Siegmund exchanged a wary glance before he declared, "I'm going to check things out."

Just as he rounded the counter, Allen stormed out of the kitchen. "Come on, Matt. We're goin' home."

His brother demanded, "What the hell is going on?"

"Just...come on!"

Siegmund did not know what to do besides wave goodbye to the pair. Matt only looked more confused as he turned and followed his twin out the door. The mute stiffly crept around the counter and peered into the kitchen. Oliver was facing him, and lifted his head from glaring at the tiled floor. It was very out of place for him to not smile, and frankly, the scowl he was wearing was creepier than any wide grin he ever had.

"You should leave, too. It is getting late."

Oliver lifted a thick eyebrow when Siegmund hesitated for a moment. The mute retreated into the front room before his boss could blow a mental gasket. He passed the register where scraps of paper and receipts rested beside it, and a not-so-wise idea popped in his head. While the baker stewed in the kitchen, he snatched a spare pen and scribbled on a blank piece of paper.

I know you're angry, but this is a bit overboard. He isn't playing around. He just wanted to know you a bit before revealing 'his big secret.' It's a weird way to go about it, and we both know how stupid Allen can be, but he doesn't mean anything bad, if that makes sense. I'll be back tomorrow.

Siegmund scanned his crude note before leaving it on the counter, hoping that Oliver would be more approachable the next day.

That night, he only managed to catch a fitful sleep. In the morning, all Siegmund remembered from his dreams was a pair of eyes steadily staring at him, mirroring his own in color and alikeness. Not making a rush to the bakery, he decided to grab leftover cake his brother recently baked instead of eating at his workplace. It was inevitable, if he wanted to avoid furthering Oliver's wrath, and he eventually left the sanctuary of their home.

Siegmund slowly pulled open the bakery's door so the annoying bell on a string would not clank against the glass, and disrupt Oliver's telephone conversation. The baker cradled the device to the side of his face like it was fragile, and had a soft smile lighting his features, much better from the previous night. Still, the mute approached the counter like Oliver was a ticking bomb, ready to leap for his face and give him a few more scars.

"Yeah," Oliver spoke quietly, and nodded when Siegmund did before turning to hang up his overcoat. "You still have some brownies to eat, anyway. Oh, I can do that. I know," he giggled, and his shoulders did a funny little back and forth sway. "See you soon."

He spun around and whisked into the kitchen without a word of greeting to Siegmund. The mute did not allow that to get to him, and quickly followed his boss into the next room. Oliver went right for the brownies, now in a safe plastic container to preserve freshness, and started scooping some out for another, smaller bowl.

Siegmund slapped his palm to the wooden door frame several times. The other man started, and looked up as if a voice ran through his head that was not usually there. "Siegmund, I am glad you came back!"

It was his job. Of course he came back! He raised his eyebrows, still lingering in the door way, and waited for his boss to elaborate. Oliver stuck the brownie container back in its hiding spot before grasping the smaller one and facing his company. "Yes, I really am," he said as if Siegmund questioned his declaration. "I am actually going to...head out for a tad bit, so I'm leaving the bakery to you, all right?"

The mute shook his head in slight disbelief. Oliver was going to leave him alone in his own bakery? For who knows how long? How in the world was he going to answer stupid questions if customers ask? Customers always ask stupid questions! He did not remember having such looming responsibility since he had to look after Lutz by himself. Oliver grinned wider from his silence, taking the lack of hand gestures as a good thing, and not internal panic. "I am glad to have that sorted out. Well...ta-ta!"

Siegmund remained pressed against the door frame, listening to Oliver's footsteps hurry to the door, and out into the world. The bakery was quiet once again, but it was a scary, unwelcomed silence. He had no choice but to stand vigilantly behind the counter, and face whatever customers trickled in.

That was a lie. He could always lock the door and pull down the curtains until Oliver came back, but he was trying to not piss off his boss, like any reasonable employee and sort-of-friend. The bakery did not often get packed to the point of being overwhelming, but a wordless exchange of money and baked merchandise was slightly awkward. He had no place in Oliver's bakery, and being Oliver's employee, to demand an unneeded explanation. The baker would come back soon, and blabber all about his house call.

Soon. Hopefully before the lunch crowds gets released to hunt for their empty bellies.

Surely Oliver meant 'soon' as in a few hours?

It was getting dark, and the street lights had begun to illuminate the sidewalks at least ten minutes ago. At least. Siegmund's legs were starting to ache from sticking behind the counter for so long. He did not stray too far, just in case Oliver returned at a moment when he was not paying attention.

Siegmund even dialed his emergency cellphone twice, yet both times went to voicemail. At first, he was relieved, since if Oliver had picked up, he would only hear silence as the mute would not answer his panicked "Hello's?" After a great deal of further waiting, unless it was only a few minutes (waiting is such a drag without company), the pacing game started with the bottom of his shoes squeaking against the tiled floors.

The man grasped the silver hair hanging in his face in a nervous motion, and roughly gulped the ball rising in his throat. What's next, taking to the streets with a 'Have you seen this man?' sign? He stomped a foot, growing irritated at his sudden distrust in a fellow (and possibly matured) man. Oliver could have just sent him home before going out, and locked the door instead of wasting his time!

Then again, what if something terrible happened? He could have gotten mugged for his brownies, or strayed too far from the sidewalk-

The door suddenly drug against the ground, and Siegmund tensed, whirling on the newcomer. All that pressure that bunched his shoulders drifted away as he rushed around the counter and approached the gaunt and slightly staggering Oliver. The baker put the back of his hand over his mouth, and giggled from the pale hands hovering in worry. Apparently, he was not beaten, but simply and oddly disheveled?

"Hello, again, dear. Pardon me, I was a tad late. I was...I was caught up in stuff." Another onslaught of titters, and Siegmund took a bewildered step away from him. Oliver made it to the doorway behind the counter before trying again. "Oh, it's...it's a good thing I came back right? You do not hafta stay. Just make sure chu lock up the place 'fore leaving."

Siegmund was beyond irritated, evident and ignored in his clenched fists and jaw, but it was not from being ditched and left on his own with little to no explanation. Nothing else was new from that. What made him angry, was how he looked down upon someone for finding happiness, especially when the thought of that someone was a borderline crazy baker. Despite the flush clinging to his cheeks, and the jerky movements hinting at the fact that he may have been slightly intoxicated, both of Oliver's eyes were one of the same of a lively teal.

~.~

~BOING~

~.~

Was something wrong with him? Oh, what a foolish question, of course there was. The more Siegmund let it brew in his mind, the worse he felt for himself, and for the crippled people in the world that met their 'One and Only,' only to get disgust in return. What if Siegmund had already passed his match, without registering it, and they never brought it up because he was not what they expected or wanted? He did not 'socialize' with many people outside his acquaintance group, but it was still a possibility that zapped along his brain with many others.

Things were only worsened whenever his incompleteness was rubbed in his face. Not that Oliver did it on purpose, and Siegmund tried his best to stand guard in the front room, in case any customers came in. Unfortunately, it was a dreary and rainy day, and any sensible people were driven indoors. He was stuck lifting everything off the front counter and wiping it clean for something to do. Cleaning did not take his mind off of the faint giggling of shared moments and inside jokes from the kitchen.

He knew what was happening. Allen draped himself over Oliver's shoulders, fiddling with his neck piece (this day, it was a bowtie) while the baker worked at a newest mix. He did not even seem to notice the extra weight against his back. Siegmund caught the sight several times in the passing days after his boss' ditching escapade, and he had to quickly turn away before that evil fury would strike him again.

Siegmund scrubbed the pastel surface more vigorously, as if that would pathetically drown out the happy titters. The furthest corner, by the wall of windows, rumbled with a gruff noise, and he glanced up to the disturbance. Allen's brother sat in the chair crammed between the left wall and the panes, an excellent spot to survey anything that happened outside or inside the bakery. The mute dropped his gaze to the counter again, guilty like a lot of other people to forget about his presence.

He hinted at it many times in what conversations Siegmund overheard. It was easy to forget about Matt, since he was so quiet and unmoving, almost blending into the background. Siegmund wondered why he would always follow Allen around worse than Lutz did to himself when the younger was a small tot if he acted like he did not enjoy himself. He never expressed easy emotion, or offered explanation, so the mute just guessed his nearly invisible company did not noisily find joy in many things, unlike his brother, and only liked to sit in the corner, feel the sun, and silently judge people. So mysterious, and this was beyond the simple question of what was behind his glasses.

Thinking about someone else made Siegmund feel a bit better, and less selfish. He did not want to get a headache from his own internal gloating. Siegmund's bicolored eyes flickered up again, and back down, always when he spotted the other man motionlessly staring. The plastic counter would start showing his own reflection if he continued to scrub it, so with a light sigh, the mute dropped the used rag in a nearby bin, and set to put everything back in their previous positions. When that was done, he moved everything again to new spots for further organization, and back again when that did not look right.

Tiny, sharp, and invisible prickles sunk pass his clothes, and into his skin, and it was no wonder where it came from. Siegmund wanted to retreat into his usual station in the kitchen. Did Oliver have to deal with Matt staring at him all the time, or did he blissfully never notice it? It was like water torture from staring! The mute kept his face angled down, resisting the low thought of glaring right back at the rugged blond until he would finally relinquish his shaded gaze. A nice temptation, but something about the now regular customer made him unusually timid, so he kept fiddling with the sharp point of the bakery's receipt spindle without acknowledging his company.

Matt did not even ask for something to eat. He just sat there, unnaturally. What did Siegmund do to deserve this? When little kids looked at him, he understood their wonder at the uncommon sight of an albino, but this guy would not look away! Whatever awesomeness he had going for him was completely shattered.

The man cleared his throat again, louder, and more punctuated, like he wanted Siegmund to look at him. However, Siegmund did not want to look. All right, a quick glance would not hurt. Yikes, it did; he was still staring. The mute directed his eyes on a spot in the counter's grooves, and hopefully, Matt would get the silent plea to leave him alone, or at least stop gawking.

He would think the other man was sleeping, a comforting thought, but he wiggled in his chair as if his butt was numb. The movement tempted Siegmund's gaze up again, so he decided to be crafty and peek at his company through the long strands of hair hanging in his face. Matt randomly swished his hands, jerked to a stop, and then restarted the motion again with more certainty.

Stop the presses, folks! Siegmund had just caught on that those were not hand spasms, or cramps that Matt was trying to shake out. He slowly lifted his head, clearing the hair from his eyes, and could feel his stupid expression of shock on his face, but was too engrossed on the random motions. The other man could speak, though! Why was he signing to him? This just turned from borderline creepy to downright confusing.

'Quiet, I like quiet.'

Really? Is that why? He did not want to talk, in case that disturbed the near noiseless atmosphere? Or maybe he was learning sign language and decided to test out his novice skills on the mute? Siegmund clamped his mouth shut to a settled smile, and decided to humor his company, and carry on the silent conversation. He reached for the neat pile of scraps and a pen, and began scribbling. When finished, he smacked the pen back to the counter, and held the words toward Matt.

"I can't read that."

Siegmund lowered the paper, bewildered yet again. So his 'keeper of the quiet' theory was just destroyed. 'What the hell?' He mouthed, but Matt's eyebrows furrowed, furthering his look of vague confusion.

"It's too far away and small."

Why did he not say that before? Siegmund angrily swished a hand to motion the strange guy to the counter.

"Y-you want me to go over there?"

The mute intensified the movement, hurting his wrist, but only stopped when Matt slowly rose to his feet. He caught himself on another chair, hissed under his breath, and hurried to Siegmund before he could trip over anything else. He leaned his head back as he gazed at the offered piece of paper.

'You know sign language?'

There were plenty of other questions Siegmund wanted to ask, like, 'Why do you have to stare so much?' or 'You look bored, are you okay?' Instead he wound up flashing that stupid question. Matt would not be signing well enough to make out words if he did not know how to do so! Scribbling out the words, the mute began scrawling a more appropriate question.

'When did you learn-'

"Not really," Matt spoke up before he could finish writing. His arms lifted to rest on the counter, but stopped, only to carry out the movement as if Siegmund would bite his hands off for touching his clean surface. They did not look dirty, so he allowed the other man to lean rigidly against the counter. "Uh, I don't really know much. I've been learning. Trying to learn."

Siegmund nodded, not sure how to respond. This guy had just finished a staring marathon, but now he was up close, his face was angled to the counter. That must have been what he has been looking at the whole time! The mute's fingers fiddled with the scrap of paper as a small laugh shook his shoulders. Both stiffened as a loud peel of laughter erupted from the kitchen, followed by something plopping to the ground. Oliver exclaimed in horror, "My cookie dough!"

Matt lightly coughed, and Siegmund knew he would go back to his seat again (and probably go back to staring) if he did not do anything. A good question popped in his mind, and he scribbled out the second unfinished question to write another one below it. Since the other man was apparently just learning how to silently communicate with his hands, he figured it would be easier and more appreciated on his part that he wrote what he wanted to say instead of signing.

'Why do you want to learn sign language?'

Not many people woke up with a gasp of realization, "I should learn how to sign!"

"Why would I...?" Matt quickly shut up, and dropped his gaze to the floor.

Siegmund leaned to the side, wondering if he fell asleep suddenly. The blond turned his head away, as if he had irritated him. The near lack of color on his face blossomed to a deep pink. Before he could be punched in the eye, the mute scrambled out another question.

'Are you angry?'

Matt glanced at the paper before looking away again. Oh, all of a sudden he did not want to stare? "No, I'm not."

'You never answered my question.'

"Do I have to?"

With a noiseless snort, Siegmund flipped the sheet over to scribble on the back, 'Do you have to be rude? It's just a question.'

"Well, it's embarrassing."

'I'm not embarrassed by it.'

"Of course you aren't. You're good at it."

'You're learning. I was able to know what you said before.'

"Yeah, thanks," Matt said, not sounding thankful.

Yikes, this was not going awesome at all. Siegmund sighed, and back tracked on the paper before the both of them would get more irritated. 'Is it because an older family member? Or a lovely lady?'

"It's neither of them."

'Is it because you like the quiet?'

"Sort of."

'Sort of?!' Siegmund drew angry underlines beneath the statement.

A rare smile blessed Matt's face, almost unnoticeable, but still there and still pleasant none the less. "Yeah, you're sort of close."

The mute dug against the side of his head, completely out of fathomable reasons. Matt was already quiet as is. Learning sign language did not do much to further that fact. He liked quiet, so would that branch to quiet people? 'Did you do it so you could talk to people that could not speak?'

Whatever timid smile Matt had, slumped when he read the slip. Perhaps 'talk' was a poor choice of a word. He clutched the clump of rosy blond hair that fell in front of his sunglasses with a rough grab while he struggled with words. "Y-yeah? I mean, if we were going to get to know one another..." He quickly added when Siegmund's eyes widened in surprise, "If you would like that. I figured that if I picked up a few things, uh, it would be easier on your part..."

Uh, yeah, Siegmund figured he would like that. How touching, not many people go out of their way to say anything to him, let alone pick up a completely different language. Matt just won his awesome points back, double this time, even if he did not know it. The mute must have been standing there, smiling stupidly, because he muttered, "I think I've done enough to make myself look like an idiot. I should just stop talking now...right?"

Another vicious shake of the head. Siegmund snatched the paper again, and shielded it away from his company as he wrote a simple question on it. 'Friends?'

Matt took a starting breath, as if he were about to eagerly agree, but his hands balled into fists against the counter, turning reclusive again. "No, Siegmund. I didn't come here to be your friend."

Siegmund could only gaze at his company's face, internally screaming while he wore a stuck smile in disbelief. Was everyone in this town mentally sick besides him, and his brother on sunny days?! A clatter of the stove's metal racks signaled a baking tray of treats just went into the oven, but neither of them even twitched from their glaring contest. This guy had to be crazy, going all that way to be friendly, and then turn around and say something so uncool?

Unless...

No, Siegmund was not going to go there. Only a crazy person would come to that conclusion. There is no way. And Siegmund was not crazy.

Well, Matt was standing there, and he did come all the way to the bakery to tell him all those things, so there may be a way it could be true? Siegmund could feel his glare ease up to a gaze of study toward the other man. His company's mouth twisted to nervous half smile, and became more bewildered when the mute broke to a wheezy laugh, snapping the tense atmosphere into pieces.

"You're laughing, right? That's a laugh, yeah. Um, what are you laughing at?"

Siegmund jabbed a finger to his chest.

"Me?"

He nodded, smiling warmly when Matt let out his own little scoff of amusement. This hype everyone else talks up about this funny thing lives up to its name, apparently.

"Yeah, sorry. I know it sounds ridiculous, but..."

Siegmund lifted his hand, but stopped when Matt slightly leaned away. He mouthed, 'May I?'

"With? Uh...yeah...you should," his company murmured, and pressed to the counter, still as stone besides the light breaths coming from his lips. Siegmund clenched and unclenched his hands to gather the audacity to reach up and brush his fingertips to the other's redden cheeks.

"Hello, hello again!" Oliver chimed from his exit from the kitchen. Both of them ripped away, and spun around so their backs were facing one another. The baker skittered to a halt, eyes wide, and mouth forming an O as he looked to Siegmund's half furious, half embarrassed grimace. "Is there something I am intruding on?"

Allen popped out from the doorway, munching on a glob of cookie dough. His brother tugged his fingers through some loose strands hanging around his face, and announced in a leveled tone, "No, we were just about to leave. Right, Al?"

"Uh, sure...I guess." Allen shoveled in the rest of his morsel before craning his neck down to peck Oliver's cheek. With an occupied mouth, he said, "See you later, babe."

Matt was already halfway out the door, but Siegmund did not turn around and watch, instead keeping his eyes on the floor. Oliver giggled and brushed the back of his hand across his own cheek, then settled against the counter beside his worker. Lax compared to the tense air, the baker bent to the side to get a good look at Siegmund's face. Siegmund raised his head, and mashed his eyebrows together from the puckered stare.

Oliver straightened with a little huff. "You should go after him. It may be the only time you will be able to do so." Siegmund gawked at his boss, and saw the baker playfully roll his eyes with a usual smile. "Pardon me for the interruption, but standing there is not going to do anything."

A sluggish feeling threatened to paralyze Siegmund to his spot when he caught on what Oliver was implying him to do. Chasing a near stranger was something those hopeless romantic crazies would do. He pushed away and hurried around the counter anyway. The baker bided as he shoved open the glass door, "Watch out for cars, dear."

Siegmund's heels grinded against the sidewalk when he stopped to take a swig of evening air to cool down the giddiness tickling his belly, and swung his head to both ends of the street. He caught the duo of a leather jacket, and a red flannelled one down the walkway, soon pulled from his line of sight by other passersby. The mute hurried after them, dodging the ever flowing traffic with his bicolored eyes on the twin's backs. If the suspicions that tried to creep forth from the back of his mind proved to be correct, he vowed to never waste his and anybody else's time with useless effort. Despite those nasty thoughts, he rushed across the intersection just as the stop-light flickered to let the cars pass.

He assured himself that getting his hopes up like this was only natural, and bound by fate. Siegmund was surely feeling the excitement of that fate finally flowing through his limbs, crushing any other doubts. His breaths came out fast and shallow without even breaking into a run, but he was grinning like an idiot when he was just arms length from reaching the back of Matt's over shirt. Was it soft or rough to the touch? Which one would Matt be? His mouth gaped, wishing the duo to slow their pace. Why did they have to walk so fast, and look so good from his view while doing it?

Somebody clipped Siegmund's shoulder, which threw him from the trance he did not notice he easily slipped into. The stranger spat as she stormed by, "Watch where you are going, idiot," but the mute did not care for her. Matt slowed slightly, turning his head instinctively at the sound of the nasty voice. Siegmund did not slow down at all, and crashed into his back from being caught up in the moment.

Both men stumbled forward, but Siegmund was able to keep his footing from Matt's steadiness, and from latching onto the checkered fabric. It was soft. Yes! "What the-" the blond whipped around, and the cozy cloth was stolen from Siegmund's hands. He flinched, but resisted to shrink back when the other man held his arms out as if to catch him.

Matt immediately took a step back, sputtering, "S-Siegmund?"

Siegmund bobbed his head, and his mouth popped open and close when words failed to come out. He fumbled his hands in quick and erratic movements, trying to tell him that he chased him all the way from the bakery. Allen noticed his brother was no longer astride, and stopped, backpedaling to their spot. "Hey, what's up?"

"Slow down," Matt said. "Why are you out here?"

"Did you forget somethin'? Did we forget somethin'?"

Matt shot his brother a dark look.

Allen spun around, shrugging, "Shit, all right. You know where I'll be, Matt, when you guys are...finished."

The others did not make a move from watching Allen's retreating back until it vanished amongst the night roamers. Matt quietly urged with a nudge to Siegmund's elbow, "Come on, let's go somewhere away from people."

Siegmund drew a hand over his face, getting his breath even again before following where Matt turned into. The alleyway twisted behind the adjacent buildings, but they stopped before the shadows took over their faces, but well away from the crowds to speak privately. Matt faced him with a stunted twist of his torso and stuffed his hands into his jean pockets. "Okay, what did you want to talk about?" His upper lip curled as if he was cringing over something. "Wait, I didn't mean...'talk...' Well, technically I did..."

Another easy smile came to Siegmund's face. It was like telling a blind person he would 'see them later.' If anything, it was hilarious how people scrambled to cover up their slip ups. He swished a hand, and then motioned to his eye.

"What? Eyes? Glasses?"

Siegmund nodded, and performed an affirmative gesture.

"Oh," One of Matt's hands slipped from his pocket to rest against the arms of his shades. "You chased me down the road for that? F-for me?"

The mute shrugged. What else would he do that for?

"You're persistent."

Did he like that? Siegmund put his fists against his waist, appearing agitated.

"It'd be really mean of me to say no after you came all the way to me, wouldn't it?" Matt leaned his head forward a bit, and his mouth barely moved when he mumbled, "Go ahead."

Woo, at long last! Siegmund felt like he had just claimed the last sandwich at a sub shop during the lunch rush, but he had to really try to not bounce on his toes. Giving his arms a shake to quell the excitement buzzing through his veins, he lifted his arms to signal he wanted to take those cursed sunglasses of off Matt's face, even if it was just once. He had to know. Then maybe he would not bother his man ever again, but Siegmund told that part of his mind to shut up.

Matt remained still as he took the end piece of his shades and carefully lifted them from the bridge of his nose. If it were dramatic, it would be similar to a curtain rising just as a play starts. After pushing some stray clumps of rosy blond hair away, and setting the lens upon his head, Siegmund's fingertips danced down to settle on Matt's cheekbones.

Okay, said the unreasonable doubt, now you saw them, now run! Siegmund thought he told those rampant words to keep quiet. Actually, everything silenced within his mind when a gentle smile overtook the other man's stone expression, and his hands, too, rose to clamp on the back of his own to keep them to his cheeks.

So, it had been worth it, but he must be dreaming. Were dream hands that warm? Did his heart usually summersault in his sleep like that? Siegmund timidly smiled with the realization that he did not know what to do from there. He was certain, though, that Matt did not either, as they stood there, and cupped each other's hands in a dark alley, staring at one another's eyes that mirrored each other.

"Hey," Matt moistened his lips in a nervous sweep, and Siegmund hovered closer, wanting nothing more than those eyes on him at all times from then on. A week ago, he would have laughed at loud at the thought, but as he commanded before, shut up, evil thoughts. "I...I've been looking for you for a long time. It turns out these damned eyes were more important to me than I wanted to believe. Once I found you, I wanted to know you a bit more before...yeah, anything happened, but...well, as you can tell, I'm not good with these things. Sorry for creeping you out or anythin'...anything."

Siegmund quickly shrugged with an uneasy grin, hoping to get the message across that he did not honestly care. Through those doubts and cowardice ticking behind the curiosity, his 'special somebody' did not even care if he could not speak, and even went out of his way to learn sign language so he did not have to worry about it! Wow, Matt was kind of awesome before the glasses came off, but now he seems perfect. Not flawless, but just right.

"What do you think we do now?" Matt asked. It may have been the late evening, or orange street lights playing tricks, but his ruby eye seemed more of a duller violet now, but not completely like the other. Not yet.

Do they hug? Exchange numbers? Everyone talks of the fact that they found 'The One,' but never 'how!' Did they have to kiss in order to make the full change? Siegmund knew he would not mind that, as long as it was not something drastic like blood letting, or marriage...at least not yet (for the second option!).

Siegmund leaned forward on his toes, and their chests pressed together, conveying what exactly he wanted. "Oh," Matt's breath ghosted his chin. "You wanna...ahem, is it all right if I...?"

It was too easy for the mute to imagine he could feel Matt's heartbeat against his own, with how close they hovered to one another. Was he going to wait all night, with the way he hesitated whenever he leaned in the slightest bit? A nervous grunt slipped from the back of Siegmund's throat when Matt just stuck his mouth against his, and it was obvious the poor guy did not know what to do.

Perfect, not flawless, Siegmund internally chanted. The phrase was beginning to lose meaning, and he grew perturbed from it.

Still, he could not help but erupt into snickers against Matt's lips. Matt quickly pulled away to demand, "What? Why are you laughing?!"

Siegmund swung his head back and forth, stretched up for more, but could not stop grinning. He lowered his hands to grip Matt's shoulders in an awkward hug instead. Matt uncertainly snaked his arms around his back, and the embrace wound up being much more comfortable then...whatever that was. He could feel the ends of the hair running down his back being gently tugged and twirled in his company's fingers, and he rubbed through Matt's flannel, enjoying the lean muscle across his shoulder blades and down his back. It appears that somebody needed some practice kissing, which was not a bad thing at all.

Matt's throat vibrated against his shoulder, "Hm, would you go out on a date with me?"

Siegmund squeezed him enough in hopes it would convey that duh, of course he would go out on a date with him!

"Y-yeah? Great." Too soon, Matt released him with a final rub to his upper arms, but Siegmund could now see that his eyes completely matched. He must have had the rosy eyes, then, which was better for him; he have always had sharper eyesight with his red side. "I'll pick you up at the bakery sometime. Soon. Tomorrow?"

The mute's cheeks were starting to tingle unpleasantly from smiling so damn much. He leaned over again to peck the side of Matt's face. That seemed to make him embarrassed, so he did it again. Matt made an angry grunt, but that smile he was struggling to squash said otherwise.

"Tomorrow, but I have to go now before Allen does something stupid without me." Matt gave Siegmund's hand a firm squeeze and repeated, "Tomorrow."

Both went in opposite directions, but grinned like they won the lottery all the way back to where they were. It was sort of strange to walk at a normal pace when Siegmund's spirit was soaring, and how on the way to Matt, he ran for (the love of) his life.

When he tugged open the bakery's front door, Oliver perked from his usual spot against the counter. "Hey, hey!" He sang as Siegmund approached, and a broad smile bunched his freckled cheeks. "Look at you! Oh!" He slapped a hand to his own chest, and with the other, drew a finger beneath his eye from building tears. "Would you look at me? Ridiculous!"

Siegmund simply stood before the counter, beaming because he did not know what to do as the possibly insane baker bawled for his happiness.

"Woo," Oliver swished a palm to his face, as if that would stem the tear flow. "Happy day! I want to bake a cake now! Care to join me?"

Cake did not sound bad at all. Siegmund's smile matched his friend's, and as he followed him into the kitchen, he wondered if he was a bit crazy, too.