Closing the oven door carefully, Ottilie sighed and bent ever so slightly to rest her forehead against the hand that still clung to the oven. Her peace had been broken, almost beyond repair ever since the night she’d been attacked whilst walking to the cafe. The memories themselves were kept purposely fuzzy because it made it easier to deal with. And, eventually, she knew that she would have to face them fully, if only to really parse out what had happened. As it stood, she was uncomfortably and acutely aware that she really did have two people living inside of her now. Ottilie, who wanted nothing more out of life than to bake and run her cute little cafe. And Hafren of Lysithea who looked like a neon-pastel lolita-adjacent nightmare. Someone who took down monsters and existed in a world that Ottilie had never dreamed existed…

Standing up straight, she released the oven door and opened her eyes, taking a moment to look around the kitchen. Everything was neatly in its place. Loaves of bread existed in varying stages of cooling and baking. A rack of cookies and cakes rested against the wall furthest from the oven. It was, for all its inherent chaos, a restful sort of scene. It was the life she’d chosen for herself and one that she knew she was willing to fight tooth and claw to preserve. So why, you ninny, she silently scolded herself, are you thinking about turning into Hafren again?!? She couldn’t deny the temptation. Partly to see if it really was real. Partly because there’d been a sense at the time, swamped over by adrenaline, that there was something that had needed to be done. It was that faint tugging at the edges of her heart that whispered to her. Told her that she should change and take the steps that she’d been unable (or unwilling) to consider that night.

Giving her head an irritable shake, Ottilie pushed the thoughts aside for the moment. Tempted though she might be, her own good sense had stepped back into control. At least for now. No matter how curious she might be, the idea of leaving in-use ovens unattended was anathema. Even considering the idea conjured up memories of Grand-mere scolding her for doing so as a child. No, if she was really going to consider this, she would do it properly. And that meant when she wasn’t busy baking. With that determination came clarity and Ottilie was soon bustling through the little kitchen, moving racks and preparing display cases. The cafe could be closed for the next few days starting the day after tomorrow. She wasn’t hurting for money. There was no reason why she couldn’t give herself a little vacation from work. That would be enough time to explore this second life she’d suddenly acquired. And It would give her enough of a sense of control to possibly even enjoy the experiment.

“Très bon,” she murmured to herself as she finished placing cookies into the case. Though whether she was referring to the display or her decision even she couldn’t say.

Word Count = 521