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#WujuBakery AU | "waking up"
Waking up feels like coming out from under the water.
Wuju is soaked in a yearning, a name on the tip of his tongue. He looks down at his hands each time he has that dream. He knows it's recurring because he never grieves like this from sleep.
Waking up feels like coming out from under the water.
Wuju is soaked in a yearning, a name on the tip of his tongue. He looks down at his hands each time he has that dream. He knows it's recurring because he never grieves like this from sleep.
Always hazy, foggy. He tries to scour clear waters for a memory, a face, a voice. His hands come up empty and then he has to get out of bed to open the bakery.
One year has passed since these recurring dreams started. He always feels like his searching for something.
One year has passed since these recurring dreams started. He always feels like his searching for something.
His pastry has changed. It was subtle. It was almost muscle memory and he was surprised by how deftly he kneaded the dough now--how slightly off the amount of sugar he adds. It's less sweet, more savory, almost like he was thinking of someone.
Impossible. Wuju loves sweets.
Impossible. Wuju loves sweets.
#WujuBakery What if he was sloppy? How could a person completely erase all traces of himself when they've spent hours and hours engraving his memory into someone's life. How do you reverse a chemical reaction?
There's no perfect crime. You can't kill love and get away with it.
There's no perfect crime. You can't kill love and get away with it.
Inevitably, when the Baker finds that One Thing, it will come rushing back. There's a second teacup he doesn't remember buying. The spices are never where they are.
Somehow, The Baker has developed a taste for savory pastries, foregoing sugary sweetness.
Somehow, The Baker has developed a taste for savory pastries, foregoing sugary sweetness.
And in the laundry he finds a leather jacket he's never seen or worn, but which felt awfully, devastatingly familiar. There's a guitar pick with clumsy engraving in the pocket.
The baker remembers. The memories come back.
And when The Baker calls, guess who comes?
The baker remembers. The memories come back.
And when The Baker calls, guess who comes?
