Lucien's room above the café smelled like fresh bread and old books. Morning light filtered through his curtains as he sat at his desk, trying to focus on his online chemistry assignment. The familiar scents usually calmed him, but today his mind kept wandering.

The flower pen tapped against his notebook, creating an uneven rhythm. His mom's words from yesterday echoed: "There's a difference between friendship and love."

His eyes drifted to his guitar in the corner, the song he'd been trying to write still unfinished. Was it weird to write songs about your friend? Just because the lyrics kept coming back to honey-blonde hair and kind eyes that saw past his anxiety... that didn't have to mean anything, right?

His computer chimed with a notification from his online class discussion board. He should respond – participation was part of his grade – but the words wouldn't come. Instead, he found himself sketching tiny flowers in his notebook margins, just like the one on the pen she'd given him.

"Lucien?" His father knocked softly. "Time for a break? I made those experimental chocolate croissants."

In the kitchen, the familiar smell of baking wrapped around him like a hug. His father set a plate of still-warm croissants on the counter while his mother prepared tea.

"How's the studying going?" His father asked, though his knowing smile suggested he'd noticed Lucien's distraction.

"It's... going." Lucien picked at a croissant, not meeting their eyes. "Chemistry is... chemistry-like."

"Mhmm." His mother exchanged looks with his father. "And how are you feeling after our talk yesterday?"

Heat crept up his neck. "I'm... confused? Maybe? I don't know..."

"About Ashley?" His father's voice was gentle.

Lucien nodded miserably. "She's just... she's my first real friend. The first person besides you who doesn't think I'm weird for measuring ingredients exactly or reorganizing displays or..." He twisted the flower pen between his fingers.

His mother settled beside him. "Honey, These feelings are new for you. We understand that."

He stared at his half-eaten croissant. "She makes me feel safe. Comfortable. Isn't that friendship? But then she laughs and my heart does this weird flippy thing, and I notice everything about her, and I want to make her favorite pastries when she's sad, and..." He buried his face in his hands. "I don't know what any of it means."

"Sometimes," his father said carefully, "feelings don't fit into neat categories like your recipe measurements."

"But they should!" Lucien looked up desperately. "How am I supposed to know what's real if I can't measure it?"

His mother touched his hand gently. "Sweetheart, do you remember when you first started baking? How you had to learn to feel when the dough was right, not just follow the recipe?"

"That's different..."

"Is it? Some things can't be measured. They have to be felt."

Lucien thought about how his heart raced whenever Ashley walked in, how he counted the minutes until her shifts started, how he remembered every detail she shared about herself.

But then he thought about how easy it was to talk to her, how she made him feel less alone, how her friendship had changed his whole world.

"I don't want to ruin everything," he whispered. "What if these feelings mess up our friendship? What if I'm reading everything wrong?"

His father squeezed his shoulder. "You know you don't have to figure it all out right now, right?"

"But—"

"No buts," his mother cut in. "You're allowed to take time understanding your heart. Ashley's your friend first – that's already precious. Anything else... well, that's just butter on the croissant."

Despite himself, Lucien smiled. "Mom, that was terrible."

"Made you smile though!"

His father bumped his shoulder, “And look, buddy, not everything is what we think it is. Feelings are hard to understand. They’re complicated. More complex than your chemistry assignments.”

“I know, otherwise, I would have succeeded by now.” Lucien mumbled.

His mother chuckled, “Look at our little genius.”

“T-that’s not what I meant— I Just—” he let out a breath.

“I know, I know. Again, don’t overthink this Lucien. Take your time.” she gently rubbed his hand.

“You are a great guy. Anyone would be lucky to have you.” His father added.

Lucien smiled, taking a piece of the cookie his father pulled out of the oven a few minutes ago. His parents are… well, he got fortunate, that’s for sure.

His mother laughed as his father hugged her from behind and smacked the dough so hard, flour got everywhere.

“David!” she laughed which caused his father to laugh along with her, “You’re in so much trouble!” she playfully smacked his hand.

This is what Lucien wanted. This. What his parents have. It reminded him of when Ashley and him were in the kitchen making lunch for a boy at school. It was nice, fun, and different than cooking alone.

His computer chimed again upstairs – another class notification probably. But for once, Lucien didn't feel the usual anxiety about falling behind.

"I should get back to studying," he said, moving to the kitchen doors. "Thanks for... you know."

"Always," his mother smiled. ‘Try to focus on your work instead of a certain someone's smile today.”

"Mom!"

Her laughter followed him upstairs, where he settled back at his desk. The chemistry problems still waited, but his mind felt clearer. Next to him was an empty sheet of paper, and his head was no longer on schoolwork. 

If Ashley is someone he likes… more than a friend, then… he will go all in for her. Confess… Tell her everything he feels. Maybe write her a song… and then hope that she likes it and then maybe she will accept his feelings?

The thought made his stomach sink and his heart pound. He buried his face in his hands again. Oh gosh… this was going to be difficult, but Ashley’s worth it. She’s worth all of it. 

His hands finally pulled from his face and grabbed the paper and pen. Without anymore time to waste, he went to work. He will pour his heart into this song. Show her how much he cares and how amazing she is.