Chapter Text
I'm currently in the prep area of the baking competition. Flour is in the air, the ovens are preheating, and timers are going off. Other bakers are rushing as much as I am while the judges walk around us.
Everything feels chaotic and pressured. My hands tremble as my ingredients aren't set right, and I'm already behind schedule.
I'm feeling overwhelmed and afraid to mess up even further. Everyone else seems to be doing better than I am. My chest feels tight, and my inner thoughts are starting to spiral. I'm really feeling the stress of wanting to do well, but not showing it.
Strawberry Shortcake is across the room, with pink hair tied back into a ponytail. There's flour on her cheek, but she pays it no mind, joyfully humming to herself. She's smiling at everyone who passes by her.
My heart jumps at the sight of her. She's my crush, so warm, kind, and gentle. Seeing her so naturally happy should bring me joy, but the stress is ruining it.
That's when she suddenly looks over, her eyes meeting mine. I watch how her expression shifts instantly, confusion turning into concern. She tilts her head and abandons what she's doing, moving towards me and gently pushing past others.
She reaches my station and softly calls my name, "(Name)." She leans in just slightly so the busy room noise fades. Just hearing her say my name calms me a bit. "What happened?" She proceeds to ask. Her tone is worried, but not pushy. She cares.
Embarrassed, I try to act like everything's fine. "Nothing, really," I reply. But I'm clearly not fine: My hands are shaking, my voice wavers, and my ingredients are a huge mess. Who am I trying to fool?
Of course, Strawberry sees right through my lie. Her brows knit with further concern, and she gently reaches out, touching my arm and lingering a little longer than needed. Her voice is tender as she reassures, "I believe in you." Her presence steadies my breathing.
"Let's take this slow," she tells me and gently guides me to take a breath, grounding me.
She doesn't just leave it at comforting words. She straightens a tilted bowl, wipes some flour off my messy station, moves ingredients into place, and finishes by steadying my shaky hands with hers.
I feel myself grow calm. My breathing slows,s and my shoulders drop. The pressure feels survivable again because of her. I don't know how she does it, but she always manages to make me feel better.
I meet her eyes again. They're soft and warm, but also hiding something unspoken. She opens her mouth to say something, but hesitates and smiles in a shy, flustered way. Her cheeks warm a little.
Before either of us can break the silence, another contestant drops something loudly on the floor, causing us both to startle. Strawberry gives me one last warm look before heading back to her station. "Just breathe, okay?" She reminds.
I track her movement even though she's already left me. The way her pink ponytail bounces as she gets back to work with the flour from before is still on her cheek. I probably had the opportunity to wipe it off when she was so close to me before.
She directs a soft smile at me when she catches me looking, her warmth lingering like sunlight still.
I'm reminded of her encouraging words again. I breathe and steady my hands, feeling my chest loosen. I reorganize my station with a newfound confidence, ready to start over and take this challenge on again.
My hands move more fluidly this time, and ingredients are being measured correctly. The rhythm has returned, my confidence along with it. I know I can do this now. She's made me believe I can, and I don't want to disappoint her.
I catch Strawberry glancing at me from time to time, looking over her shoulder. And whenever our eyes meet, she'd smile softly and blush a little, then she goes right back to baking with renewed cheerfulness.
A small, determined smile graces my face with the warmth of her encouragement still in my chest.