He has thick black hair, so rich and full and long. I'd say it reaches his shoulders. I always just see him with it pulled back in a tie with some shorter pieces free and framing his face. His skin has color and warmth, makes him glow. The baker's eyes are not sad and cold like mine but a sort of dark brown and full of life. They seem to smile when he does. Though his body looks lean I have a feeling he's toned despite his chef-like clothing that prevents me from knowing. I can tell by his strong and well-defined arms and hands. He's much taller too. I would guess at almost 6 foot. In conclusion, he and I are complete opposites.

He would never notice me other than as a customer and I'm too shy and self-conscious to approach him. Besides, we are both men. Yes life is cruel and my life is truly bittersweet.

"You again," He says but not in an informal or mean way. He's still smiling after all and such a pleasant voice.

I nod curtly in his direction but say nothing.

"A slice of Lemon Crème?" He asks already taking out a plate. I nod again, mouth still closed and unmoving. I still don't smile in return.

He wanders around the counter and sets the plate with the slice of Lemon Crème cake sitting beautifully upon it on my table. He then sets a delicate silver fork beside my plate and winks at me. It takes everything I have not to let blood rush to my cheeks. He's never done that before. He walks away.

I stare down at the treat in front of me. It seems so perfect from its crust to its yummy lemon filling to the whip crème on top to the little coconut shavings done like an edible garnish. I almost don't want to break into it and devour its beauty. But a small pain in my stomach thinks otherwise. I lift the fork and take the first bite. It makes me moan out just a little. I stop myself quickly when I realize and hope he didn't hear that.

I then proceed to slowly eat it, savoring each morsel cut with my fork. It is beyond delicious.

As I enjoy my cake, I hear a clearing of someone's throat beside me. I peer up to find him standing beside my table again with a glass in hand. Inside is a pale yellow liquid and ice. "Would you care for some lemonade?"

I do manage to say something this time despite my surprise. "Sure." I have never ordered a drink nor has he ever offered till now. He puts it down on the table and wanders off again. I take a careful sip and know immediately it is freshly squeezed and oh so good. It's nice to be washing this all down now.

While I eat, I peer out the window casually and notice it has become kind of misty outside. I narrow my eyes and then sigh in defeat. It is lightly raining now. With my luck it will get heavy when I’m done and ready to head home. I glance at my groceries down at my feet.

I begin to eat the cake painfully slow, my body slumping slightly.

"You have a little crème there." My head shoots up to find him pointing to one corner of his mouth. I don't do anything at first but my brain finally catches up and my tongue sneaks out of my mouth and begins to sweep over one corner. I can't find any crème. Is he toying with me? Making fun?

I'm still staring at him while I attempt in vain to taste any crème that might be there. He laughs and shakes his head, which makes my tongue jump back into the safety of my mouth. He comes closer and closer and leans forward over me. My heart picks up speed and pounds in my chest ready to rip through my ribcage. What is he going to do?

To my horror and perhaps absolute pleasure, he uses his own tongue and licks the other corner. I pretty much felt that pink wet muscle slip over my lips. I shiver and feel goose bumps rise all over my pale skin. What just happened? Did he really just do that? The baker who I am completely infatuated with just licked my face. I have a feeling I resemble a guppy right now. My mouth is moving but no sound is coming out.

He stands straight and stares down at me, licking his smirking lips. "For a few years now you come in everyday and order the same things. I started calling you the Lemon Man since I don't know your name-"

"It's Kazutaka!" I suddenly spit out cutting him off.

He grins and tilts his head, folding his arms across his chest. "Ah, is that so? Well then it is only fair to tell you my name is Marushi."

"Marushi..." I find myself saying out loud.

"Kazutaka..." I lift my head when he says it. I watch as a nervous uncertain look crosses his features. "I have wanted to know for so long. You were so peculiar and intriguing, coming in everyday to order my lemon flavored goods. Always lemon too and you always had this sad look in your eyes. I would contemplate on it all when there were no customers and I was alone. Sometimes when I was baking...Why? I would ask myself."

I really could not believe what I was hearing. I intrigued him? That doesn't make sense, does it?

"I suppose I should have just asked for your name a long time ago and asked you why. I guess the truth was I liked the mystery in it all but now...No more. I want to know everything about you, Kazutaka." He beams down at me.

I can't take this anymore. My body feels numb and yet my heart aches at these words. I shake my head, "I don't see why. I am nothing special." I stand up then and dig out some money to place on the table for the cake and lemonade. I gather up my groceries and walk quickly to the door, wanting to escape this dream because it scares me and I know it really can't be true. I stop at the door to find the word "OPEN" facing me instead of the other way. When did he do that?

I spin around and find Marushi standing right in front of me with a gleam in his warm eyes. My mouth falls open slightly for a minute before I close it quickly. He takes the groceries from my arms and sets them down on the ground. After he stands back up, towering over my small height, his hands gently grab the sides of my face. I can feel my heart in my throat and hear it beat in my ears.

He presses are lips together.

"You taste like lemons," He says after breaking away, but remaining inches from me.

"Really? You taste like heaven," I reply and feel the corners of my lips stretch and I realize I'm smiling.

"Wow, you should smile more often," he says and then kisses me again.

My life is now no longer like a broken record or stuck on re-wind. It is much sweeter and a lot less bitter. It is not ordinary.