~Sincerely, Your Neighbor 💌 [Milkman x Reader]

Ch.11 - Pastry Box

CW // V10L3NCE

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  The kitchen.. Is messed up.

  "Do you even know what you're doing!?" He yells and throws a plate at me. His expression that one of a monster, his true self.

  "I'm sorry, please stop!" I plead shakily, staring at the cuts all over my arm while tears run down my cheeks. Shards of glass and procelain stab into my feet like paper. My knees weak from the pure fear, my face stinging from crying and lightheaded.

  "I could've left you to die, and I wouldn't have to deal with your bullshit!" His words pierces my ears like knives, slowly ripping me apart.

  "Please I didn't mean to-!"

  "Just shut up!" He grabs a knife from the knife block and charges at me, grabbing my collar before I could run away. His hand positions under my head and jolts upwards. The knife rips through my jaw like it was nothing but another flesh to be cut.

  I jolt awake, gasping for air. My body slick in sweat and eyes stinging. I plant my face into the pillow, letting out the tears of terror I felt in my nightmare. It felt extremely real, and I felt disheartened. But then I remembered. I'm awake. A nightmare is nothing other than a fake reality in my head.

  My hand reaches out for the lamp and turn it on. He offered to let me stay in his bed while he took the couch, and thanks to him telling me about that cookbook, I accepted the offer anyway. The bed felt nice, but I miss his presence. Only if he comforted me again, I would feel nothing more than feeling more like dogshit.

  I went to wake myself up by washing my face, and decided to leave. Despite the time already hit midnight, I'm no longer in danger, ain't I? They took care of the doppelganger, now there's nothing to be afraid of.. I think.

  The door closes softly as I enter the living room. He's splayed on the couch, leg on the back cushion, a limb or two off the couch and one arm covering his eyes. Side note, he snores like a madman. I stop beside his head, staring down at him in awe. He's such a lovely dude, but the sight of a bloody Francis on a rampage to kill me doesn't make it any better for me. It sure as hell managed to leave me scarred.

  I lean down and press a light kiss on his forehead just to say goodbye to him without saying anything. As I turn, he chuckles softly moments later before going back to snoring. He might've just been dreaming, not surprising. I left his apartment afterwards, leaving me in a moment to process everything.

  A new dawn arises, another day for work. Maybe a failed one, hopefully. As much as I have a love hate thing towards doppels, it's no doubt I felt like wanting to run at that moment.

  I left the building as the sun rises. Though grey clouds are seen in the distance down the road. I brought a raincoat just to make sure, and the invitation letter from yesterday. It had the address written out in the back, that seemingly leads to a pastry shop downtown. It's convenient how it's also the same place Francis got the cookbook from.

  As I cross the street, I accidentally trip against the side of the pavement, causing me to lose my balance. My eyes close shut as I brace for impact.. But nothing came. Some hands grabbed onto my shoulders in time before I could actually fall. The individual corrects me, setting me back to standing straight.

  "Mx.(Y/n), you don't have to pretend you don't know me." The familiar voice, sounds like the reporter. I slowly open my eyes, being met with the charming Izaak standing before me.