On Tuesday morning, Oliver heads out to Robin’s shop right at opening time. There’s no line yet at this point—the desserts and sweet drinks are typically eaten after a meal.

Oliver heads inside, and is surprised to find Robin standing outside the counter with his apron on. He’s talking to another person, and they both turn to Oliver.

“Oh, hey,” Robin says, his voice warm.

“Ah, so this is Oliver,” the other person says.

Oliver blinks, confused. He’s never seen this person before. Has Robin shown pictures of him to them?

“Oliver, this is my sister Lark.”

“Older sister, I’ll have you know,” she says, holding her hand out.

“Oh!” Oliver smiles, shaking her hand. “Robin’s told me a lot about you.”

Lark’s eyebrows go up. “Oh he has, has he?” she says, throwing a smirk at Robin. “What’s your favourite football team?”

“Women’s Carlton Blues,” Oliver immediately answers.

Lark’s smirk turns into an assessing grin. “Hm, so he has been talking. What can Robin do for you?”

“That’s my question,” Robin says, nudging his sister.

Oliver grins a little, tickled to see the two siblings interacting. “A pastry or muffin, I need to head into work soon.”

“In that case,” Lark says, “You’ve got to try Robin’s new custard-apple pastries—not apple and custard, mind you. Custard-apple as in the fruit.”

Robin sighs. “She’s right,” he says, his expression softening when his gaze shifts to Oliver. “Custard-apples are in season right now.” He goes around to the counter and picks up two pastries for Oliver.

“...Wait, let me pay!” Oliver says, stepping forward.

“Oliver…”

“Isn’t friend-privileges like...corruption?”

Jenny, at the counter, gives the lightest sigh of exasperation.

“Fine,” Robin acquiesces, but the look in his eye promises things for Oliver’s future.

Oliver grins, handing over his credit card. “Thanks,” he says, as he accepts the pastries. “I’ll...see you tomorrow?”

Robin nods. “Have a good day at work.”

“You too.”

“I’m heading out too,” Lark says, heading to the door. She holds it open—”After you, Oliver.”

“Don’t buy anything from her!” Robin calls out.

Lark winks at Oliver. “Oh no, I would never swindle dear Oliver!”

Oliver grins.

“Which way are you headed?” Lark asks.

“Down here.”

Lark nods, and falls in-step alongside him. “Say, Oliver. I hope you know you turn my brother into a blushing mess.”

Oliver laughs, feeling his cheeks heat up. “Are you allowed to say that?”

“As his big sister, definitely,” Lark smirks. Her smile softens. “You better keep my brother happy or you’ll find your insides becoming outsides, alright?”

For a moment, the words and Lark’s casual tone don’t match in Oliver’s head. Oliver snorts in surprise. “I understand perfectly. Where are you headed?”

“As long as you understand,” Lark says. “There’s a conference on gender inequality in sports.”

Oliver nods thoughtfully. “I hope it goes well.”

“Hm. I’m turning this way now. Have a good day, Oliver. And I hope to see you again. I have a lot of embarrassing stories to tell you,” she adds, winking.

Oliver grins, Lark’s words warming his heart.

He arrives at the company before he remembers the pastries in hand. He takes one partially out of the brown paper bag, immediately salivating at the scent of rich buttery pastry and sweet fruit. He takes a bite, careful not to spill any flaky pastry.

There is fresh custard-apple on top of the pastry: it’s sweet and soft, making the pastry more like dessert than breakfast. Oliver quite likes how Robin has flavours that are in season. He might ask Robin in the future to let him try all these different fruits on their own.

The click of footsteps alerts him to Mia’s approach.

“You’re making me jealous,” Mia says, instead of greeting him. She looks at the half-eaten pastry in his hand as though in betrayal.

Oliver smiles proudly. “I bet you can guess where I got it from.”

“Matcha & Milk, right? At this point, you could probably be their unofficial spokesperson,” she says. “Damn it, do you think there’ll be any left by lunch time?”

“Given that you helped me on my recent song, you can have half of my second one,” Oliver says benevolently, holding up the paper bag.

“Are you sure?”

“Sure.”

Mia’s smile brightens. “Thanks!”

“Hmm, yum,” Mia agrees as she bites into her portion of the pastry. “You know, I think I understand why you didn’t like sweet stuff before,” she says contemplatively. “This stuff has much more complexity of flavour. It’s not just sugar hitting you in the face.”

Oliver nods in agreement. “If you want, I can buy a third item whenever I’m there for you.”

Mia shakes her head. “No, it’s fine, you should kick me in the pants and make me get my own food.”

Oliver rolls his eyes. “Come on, it’s fine.”

Mia grins in exasperation. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you’re trying to get to my heart through my stomach.”

Oliver’s smile becomes sheepish. Isn’t that basically what Robin did?

(Cough.) Though maybe Oliver might have been affected before even tasting the food…