Lysandre had been completely content, idly walking about the kitchen in his black apron.
Baking had always been rather soothing to him, he never minded the hours it took to create a pastry. Which was why his cafe served more pastries than coffee.
The time could be well spent, with or without thoughts, after all in the end you create something wonderful.
There wasn't much left for him to do as he stood there leaning against the polished counters, as cleaning was much like baking in its mindlessness. It was tuesday and he was waiting for the swell of customers to arrive as they always did in the mornings on the way to work, preparing small things, more filling than sweet. But the cake he was working on was for a small evening event he'd have later.
While waiting he contemplated the days sales as well as his company's, it was moderately well off and was gaining a steady stream of income so that was good.
The complaints were low and he'd be able to release a few updates to the caster later in the month with the steady rate of support and work from him and his team. Great.
Lysandre flicked back a strand of hair in annoyance.
He slipped a large double layer cake onto a tray before pulling out two icing bags.
He didn't even pause as he filled one with red icing and one with Orange. Walking to the fridge Lysandre set the two in there as he pulled out a bag of white frosting, brandishing an icing smoother as well before the cake.
A pile of frosting was lain out on the cake and the smoother quickly made it's way onto the pile of snow. Smearing the color, shaping the cake, Lysandre lost all ties to the world only focusing on his world. Once a thick layer of frosting was evenly coating the cake Lysandre dropped his arm and instead decorated the cake with red and yellow: lining its edges with red ruffles, making elegant red flowers burst on the page, adding yellow centres and swirls about the frosting. Nothing about this was unnatural right down to the cake itself.
Red-velvet with a chocolate mousse center.
The words placed themselves down elegantly in the center of the cake, looking suave and classy in their swirling cursive. Lysandre glared at the cake, wiping at the icing on his apron.
There were a few seconds where he just gazed down at his handiwork. The satisfaction lifting the corners of his lips, before he swiftly carried the cake to the fridge in order to save the beautiful image he had crafted.
The moment he had put it up he stopped and tightened his grip on the small bag.
This was unnatural.
Making gifts. Of his own choice.