Ashley's hands trembled slightly as she stood in the empty classroom, staring at the carefully packed lunch she and Lucien had prepared. The morning sunlight streamed through the windows, making the fresh vegetables look almost too perfect to eat. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe Arek would ignore her completely or worse, laugh at her.

Then she noticed it – a small folded note tucked into the side of the container. Her name was written in careful, slightly shaky handwriting she recognized from order tickets at the café.

Inside, the message was simple: "You've got this. -L"

At the bottom was a somewhat wobbly drawing of her flower pen. The daisy's petals weren't quite even, and the stem had a distinct curve that suggested multiple attempts at getting it straight, but something about its imperfect charm made her throat tight. She could picture Lucien hunched over this note, probably early this morning, trying his best to draw something he thought would make her smile.

It worked.

Finding Arek wasn't hard – he was in his usual spot behind the science building, looking like he was doing his best to pretend the rest of the world didn't exist. He glanced up as she approached, surprise flickering across his face before his usual mask of indifference slipped back into place.

"What's this?" Arek asked as she set the container down beside him. "Another attempt to reform the lost cause?"

"It's lunch," she said simply, trying to channel some of Lucien's quiet confidence. "Since you never seem to eat during actual lunch time."

He stared at her for a moment, then at the carefully packed food. "Why?"

"Because everyone deserves to eat." She sat down, smoothing her skirt beneath her. "Even rebellious teenagers who think they're too cool for nutrition."

Something like amusement crossed his face. "Did you just make a dad joke about food?"

"Maybe." She opened the container, releasing the aroma of Lucien's carefully crafted meal. "Are you going to try it, or should I start making airplane noises?"

That startled a genuine laugh out of him. "Okay, now I know this isn't the real Ashley Martinez. The perfect princess doesn't make jokes about airplane noises."

"Maybe you don't know me as well as you think." She pushed the container closer. "And maybe I don't know you either. But I'd like to."

He picked up a piece of cucumber – the one she'd accidentally shaped like a seahorse – and studied it. "This is weirdly artistic for cafeteria food."

"That's because it's not from the cafeteria." She watched as he took a tentative bite. "I had help making it."

"Didn't take you for the cooking type, Martinez."

"Didn’t take you for the artsy type. Sketches, mostly. Not exactly matching your 'I don't care about anything' image." she countered.

Arek stilled. "Been stalking me, Martinez?"

"Observing. There's a difference." She picked up a stray piece of vegetable. "Like how you help the freshman find their classes even while pretending to be too cool to care."

"Why?" he asked after a moment. "Why bother noticing?"

"Don’t flatter yourself. I only caught it while trying to chase you down multiple times."

Arek was quiet for a moment, slowly working his way through the lunch. "This is really good," he said finally, changing the subject.

"I had help." She smiled, thinking of Lucien's precise measurements and gentle instructions. "From someone who taught me it's okay to not be perfect at everything."

"Interesting." Arek studied her face. "You know what bugs me about you, Martinez?"

"My impeccable posture?"

He snorted. "That you're so damn good at pretending. At least I'm honest about being a mess."

"Are you?" She met his gaze. "Because it seems to me like you work pretty hard at maintaining that 'I don't care' image. The carefully messy hair, the strategic lateness to class. There’s no way someone arriving late would check their watch every five minutes by the lockers before class begins."

He clicked his tongue, "You probably iron your socks."

"Only on special occasions."

Another genuine laugh. "There it is again. That... realness. Where do you hide this version of you?"

"Same place you hide the guy who can’t read time and helps lost freshmen."

The silence stretched between them, broken only by the distant sound of other students enjoying their lunch period. Arek finished the last of the food, his movements slower now, thoughtful.

"One condition," he said finally.

"What?"

"We write something real. Not just what you think will get us an A. No perfect little essays about surface-level stuff. I want..." he paused, seeming to choose his words carefully. "I want to write about the masks. All of them. Yours too."

Ashley felt her heart speed up. "You want me to be vulnerable? In front of the whole class?"

"Scared, princess?"

"Terrified." She smiled. "But maybe that's the point."

Later that evening, Ashley practically bounced into the café, the bell above the door chiming with her entrance. Lucien was arranging pastries in the display case with mathematical precision, measuring the space between each item with careful attention. The flower pen bobbed in his pocket as he worked.

"Guess who agreed to work on the project?" she announced, unable to contain her excitement.

Lucien startled slightly, nearly disrupting his perfectly aligned row of croissants. When he saw it was her, his shoulders relaxed, and a small smile tugged at his lips. "Your note... it helped?"

"It really did." She pulled the carefully folded paper from her pocket. "Though we need to talk about this artistic masterpiece at the bottom."

Ashley smiled as his face flushed deep red. "I'm not... drawing isn't really..." He busied himself with rearranging pastries that were already perfectly arranged. "I know it's not very good."

"Are you kidding? Herbert the cucumber seahorse has competition."

The laugh that escaped him was soft but genuine. "You're..." he breathed out a chuckle, shaking his head. “Something.”

"Just something?" She smiled, leaning against the counter, watching him work. "Thank you. For the note. It came at exactly the right moment."

He ducked his head, curls falling forward to hide his expression, but she caught his smile. "Wait here," he said suddenly, disappearing into the kitchen.

When he returned, he was carrying a plate that made her gasp. "Is that..."

"Lavender honey cake." He set it down carefully. "I know we discontinued it, but I thought... I mean, I figured... since you were going to talk to him today..."

"You made this for me? When? Why?" She stared at the perfectly crafted dessert, with its delicate honey drizzle and precisely placed edible flowers.

"The recipe's actually quite simple if you understand the chemical reactions involved in the honey crystallization process, and the lavender needs to be measured exactly or it becomes overwhelming, but the real trick is in the timing of..." He trailed off, realizing he was rambling. "I just... thought you might want to celebrate and in case it went south… you’d have something to cheer you up."

"Lucien, this is..." She took a bite and closed her eyes in bliss. "Even better than I remember."

Ashley felt her face flush with embarrassment as he watched her eat with his sweet smile, those rosy cheeks, and his soft eyes. She had to look away so she could fully enjoy it without worrying about honey sticking to her face.

Between customers, they fell into easy conversation. Ashley perched on a stool near the register while Lucien worked, his movements becoming more fluid and natural as they talked.

"So," she said, finishing the last heavenly bite of cake, "tell me something I don't know about you." Even though she’s been working at Cafe Bean for about three months now, there was still so much she felt like she didn’t know about Lucien. He hid everything so well.

He glanced up from wiping down the espresso machine. "Like what?"

"Anything. What do you do when you're not creating culinary masterpieces?"

"I..." he hesitated. "I play guitar. Just... just for myself though. And I read. A lot."

"Really? What kind of books?"

"Fantasy, mostly." His voice grew softer but more animated. "Stories about other worlds, where being different isn't always bad."

"Luca loves reading too.”

“Luca?” His movement paused for a moment, looking at her intently before looking away when she met his gaze and quickly continued cleaning.

“He’s my best friend.” She whipped her hands together to get the sticky honey off her fingers. “Tell me about your favorite book!"

Lucien's hands stilled on the counter. "Well, there's this one about a wizard who can't speak to people directly. He's too anxious, too afraid of saying the wrong thing. But he can create music that shows people how he feels." His voice grew stronger as he continued. "Everyone thinks he's strange because he never talks, but when he plays his songs, he can make flowers grow and heal people and... and show them who he really is."

"That sounds beautiful," Ashley said softly. "Does he ever learn to talk to people?"

"Not exactly. But he learns that maybe he doesn't have to. That sometimes being different isn't something that needs to be fixed." He let out a small breath she didn’t realize he was holding. "Sorry."

"For what?" She watched him fidget with the flower pen, not seeming to answer her question. "Is… is that why you learned guitar?" her voice pitched at the end full of uncertainty. She didn’t want to just assume things about him.

"Partly. Music is... safer, sometimes. You can say things without having to actually say them." He focused intently on arranging sugar packets. "When I play, I don't have to worry about stuttering or saying the wrong thing or people looking at me weird."

"I'd love to hear you play sometime."

His eyes darted to her face, then away. "I'm not very good."

"I don't care about good. I care about real."

That made him grin and she noticed it even though he wasn’t looking at her. "Well, its real bad.”

Another chuckle left her as she traced patterns in the condensation on the counter. "It's funny, actually. Everyone thinks I'm so perfect all the time, but really, I'm just as scared as anyone else. Of disappointing people, of not being enough..."

"You're enough," he said quietly. "I mean... you don't have to be perfect. To be enough."

"Neither do you, you know." She smiled at him. "Your note this morning wasn't perfect – that flower was definitely more of a geometric experiment than a daisy."

He sighed deeply, still smiling. "I tried to fix it five times. The stem kept coming out crooked."

"I loved it exactly because it wasn't perfect. It was real. It was you trying."

Their eyes met again and this time Lucien didn’t look away. His eyes lingered on her for a moment before he began to look down, fidgeting with the hem of his apron.

"What kind of music do you play?" She changed the topic, feeling his discomfort. "On guitar, I mean."

"Quiet stuff, mostly. Songs that tell stories." He relaxed slightly at the topic change.

"Like sad songs?"

Lucien's hands paused from his fidgeting. A small chuckle came through, "No. I’m not a sad boy. Well, some songs can be sad or bittersweet."

Ashley chuckled, "You can be that for halloween."

"A sad boy?" He seemed more amused than offended.

“Yeah, why not?”

“You’d have to be sad to pull off a sad boy vibe.” He let out a soft breath, “And I can never be sad when I’m with you.”

"Never?" she tilted her head.

"Never. You make me really happy" his hands moved to a cloth and began whipping down the counter. “s..so.. Happy.” he let out another soft breath.

"Are you okay?"

His eyes darted to her quickly, “Yeah! I..I’m fine. I just… I think that I…” His hands moved back to fidgeting with his apron but his dark brown eyes locked with hers. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately… How I… I appreciate you and… admire your courage… and I think that I…. I…. I really…. I….I like—!"

A customer walked in then, breaking the moment. Ashley let out an almost annoyed sigh before getting. 

Lucien came around the counter, “I got it.” He said quickly rushing over to the woman who just came in. While he took her order, she got back to cleaning tables. Her mind replayed Lucien’s words in her head and she couldn’t help but wonder what he was going to say. He seemed so scared but determined. It seemed very important. 

She peeked over her shoulder at Lucien and overheard a little bit of the conversation he was having with the customer.

“I would like a latte with ice. Not too much, not too little. Put seven ice cubes in there. I want whip cream, just a little and 2 cherries.”

She could hear Lucien fumble to keep track of her details on notes, “Y-yes and.. Would you—”

“Get me the strawberry filled jelly donut but make sure that I get jelly with every bite. Places nowadays only give you a little jelly. You’re basically just eating a normal donut!”

“R..right. Okay, I can do that.” Ashley almost chuckled at how uncertain Lucien seemed. The lady kept ordering extreme details of what she wanted. Poor Lucien. Maybe she should have taken this order instead.