Zeyon's POV
The morning light crept slowly through the dusty blinds of the shop window. I blinked my eyes a few times, realizing I had fallen asleep on top of the counter again. My cheek stuck to the receipt paper, and the faint smell of old cinnamon buns filled my nose. I groaned and sat up slowly, rubbing my neck.
Leo was already behind the counter, wiping the glass display lazily with a cloth that looked more like it needed to be washed than anything else.
"You're drooling in public again, Zey," Leo said without looking up. "We have customers who eat here, you know."
I blinked again. "You mean you saw me. You're the only customer here."
Leo tossed the cloth on top of my head. "I'm your co-worker, not a customer, thank you very much. Unless you're charging me now for the joy of your sleepy face every morning."
I shook the cloth off and yawned. "You could help me bake for once instead of wiping that same corner every day."
"Excuse me, I provide emotional support and quality insults. I'm irreplaceable."
I chuckled, finally standing up and stretching my arms high. The ache in my back was unforgiving, and I was still half-thinking about Allison. She hadn’t shown up last night. Or the night before. Or the night before that. I couldn’t lie to myself anymore—maybe she really wasn't coming back.
Leo paused and looked at me. His playful face softened. "Still thinking about her?"
I didn’t answer. I just opened the fridge and pulled out a tray of butter.
Leo leaned against the counter. "You really liked her, huh?"
"Still do."
He nodded and grabbed a stool, spinning around before sitting. "She kinda had this... mystery book girl vibe. Like the kind that disappears in chapter five and leaves you wondering."
I frowned. "That's a weird way to describe someone."
"You liked her notebook. Admit it," he smirked.
I gave him a side eye. "I liked her, not just her notebook."
Leo whistled. "Big words. My cousin's getting serious."
I raised my brow. "Don’t you have frosting to mix? Or anything useful to do?"
"Hey, I stock the shelves and flirt with the grannies. That’s vital work."
Just then, the bell above the door jingled. A customer walked in—a regular named Mrs. Luna who always bought exactly two chocolate muffins and never smiled.
"Good morning, Mrs. Luna," Leo said cheerfully.
She grunted, tossed a few coins on the counter, and pointed at the muffins.
Leo leaned over and whispered to me, "Told you, emotional support. She’ll miss me when I’m gone."
After she left, the shop fell quiet again. I got lost in mixing dough, my hands working while my brain played memories of Allison over and over like a scratched CD.
She had smiled at me that one time when her hair was all frizzy from the rain.
She had written something in her notebook and never showed it.
She had said she’d come back.
But she didn’t.
Leo came up behind me and patted my shoulder. "Let’s do something dumb tonight. You, me, and some regretful karaoke. It’ll be fun."
I half-smiled. "Maybe."
He picked up a cupcake and shoved it in his mouth whole. "First, though, we finish this batch. And Zeyon?"
"Yeah?"
He grinned, icing stuck to his cheek. "If she doesn’t come back, maybe she left something behind. Like a reason. Or a breadcrumb trail. You just have to look."
I didn’t reply.
But I knew what I had to do.
I needed to find Allison.
Or at least, understand why she left.
Even if it meant opening doors I wasn’t ready for.
Leo tossed the empty cupcake wrapper in the trash. "Also, your frosting sucks today. Too salty. Is that your tears or did you grab the wrong tub again?"
I threw a towel at him.
He ducked, laughing.
And just like that, the shop was alive again.
Even if my heart wasn't.
---
After the shop got quiet again, I found myself staring at the table near the window.
That was Allison's spot.
She used to sit there almost every afternoon, writing in her notebook and watching people walk by. She always ordered something different, always stayed longer than she planned. I could still picture her sitting there, hair a little messy, pen in her hand, eyes full of thoughts
she never said out loud.
I looked toward the drawer under the counter. The one we barely ever used.
Something told me to check it.
I pulled it open slowly. A few napkins, an old rubber band, a pen with no cap... and then I saw it-a small folded piece of paper.
It wasn't mine.
And I was sure it wasn't Leo's.
I picked it up carefully. The paper felt a little worn, like it had been sitting there a while.
I opened it.
It was a drawing. Not a perfect one, but I knew what it was. It showed the inside of the shop. The counter, the chairs, even Leo sitting with a coffee in his hand, like he always does. And in the corner, by the window, was a little stick figure with a question mark above its head.
Me.
At the bottom of the paper, there were a few words written in Allison's handwriting:
"What if you're the reason I stayed too long?"
I didn't know how to feel.
I just sat down in the nearest chair, holding the paper.
Leo noticed something was up and walked over. He looked at the drawing.
"Did she leave that?" he asked.
I nodded.
He looked at it for a second longer, then gave it back. "That's something, Zey. That means something."
I folded the paper and slipped it into my pocket.
Maybe she didn't leave without a reason.
You really have the weirdest way to mess with my head, Allison.