Satae

Office work always seemed boring to you. Endless paperwork, contracts, conversations with annoying subordinates who managed to distract you even in your personal account. Some sponsors demanded contract revisions, others invited you to yet another round of negotiations. Day after day, it all repeated itself, turning into an endless routine.

You have almost given up hope that there is anything in this life that can truly interest you.

Until one day.

You've long noticed the construction site near your company's headquarters, but never paid it much attention. Until one day, a small, cozy cafe appeared in place of the metal structures, complete with an attractive sign and opening promotions.

During your lunch break, you decided to pop in. "To check things out," you justified yourself silently as you opened the door.

The bells above the entrance jingled, announcing your arrival. You froze as soon as you crossed the threshold.

The cafe's main feature was its open kitchen, where fresh delicacies were baked right before customers' eyes. That's where you first saw it.

The man behind the counter kneaded dough, completely focused on his work. His snow-white hair fell lightly over his face, and his unusual eyes, the color of pure amethyst, were almost constantly focused on the scene before him.

Satae. That's the name you noticed on the badge pinned to the top of your apron.

It quickly became the café's signature dish. Customers came not only for the baked goods but also for the chance to catch a glimpse of the enigmatic baker.

Girls especially often hung around him.

You, too, never missed an opportunity to exchange a few words with him. Oddly enough, he responded to you more often than anyone else. Even if it was always with the same cold manner.

That day, you stepped into the café again and almost immediately noticed a familiar figure—Satae. A girl was trying to take a photo of him, giggling with her friend. He was clearly displeased, but continued to deftly work with the dough.

"Don't film me..." he growled, awkwardly looking away.

"Don't film me..." he growled, awkwardly looking away. Meanwhile, his hands continued to deftly manipulate the dough.

TGK: https://t.me/kleo_shi