Creepin | Kylian Mbappé

Chapter forty-six

(Y/n)'s POV

Life seemed to be getting better with each passing day and the more I thought about it, the more drawn I felt to the idea of opening a panadería. And Kylian was the one reinforcing the idea every time he saw me. So that's another reason. I may not be the best at making pan dulce, but that's why I want to keep improving my skills.

That's exactly what I had been doing over the past few weeks, improving my skills with every batch I made. I even had my own personal food critic, giving me feedback.

Kylian.

Every day after training, he would stop by to try the ones I had been working hard to perfect. In this case, every single one. I just wasn't meant to be a baker, but the thought of Kylian wanting to open a little bakery for me —even if it isn't going to make any money, was just so sweet. Ale thought the same as well. She would send me TikTok videos with jokes like, 'Working hard so my wife can have a little business that loses $50k a month.'

Like me, she tried her best at baking, but I suggested she stick to the marketing side after she accidentally cross-contaminated the ingredients and gave us a week of food poisoning. All of us. Kylian was pissed that entire week. And poor old Pierre, with his weak immune system, suffered the most from it.

Serves him right, though. Pierre had been acting so suspicious lately. He never let us see the mail until he had looked through it first. Literally. It's so annoying seeing every single envelope with the top torn off. Whatever note he received that day clearly left him traumatized and I'm not sure why. But it didn't matter, I wasn't trying to stir up any more trouble with that man.

At the moment, I guess all my focus was on the future bakery. Since the deadline for signing up for classes had already passed, Ale and I would have to wait until fall. So, in the meantime, I spent most of my time getting help from my mom over FaceTime on how to make my conchas fluffier.

Kylian loves conchas, they're his favorite. Especially the pink ones. I told him they all taste the same, but Ale claims they each have a different flavor, and so does Kylian. And the reason I wanted to make my conchas fluffier was because Kylian only liked eating the sweet top crust of the bread. It was so frustrating to see every concha with its crust eaten and the rest of the bread just left behind. I couldn't blame him, though. I used to do the same whenever the bread was stale and hard.

Kylian never really complained about the hardness of the bread even though he was critical of the other breads I made. Still, I knew the key to getting him to eat the whole concha was simply to make them fluffier.

And that's exactly what I plan to do.

After thinking in bed for a while, I decided to get a glass of water. Water always hits different at night. I used the flashlight on the back of my phone to avoid tripping over anything as I made my way to the kitchen. While walking, I noticed a small piece of torn paper lying next to the bottom of the trash can. "What the...?" The small piece of paper had only the number 18 written on it. Interesting. I need to find the other missing pieces of paper. I used my foot to activate the sensor and open the trash can lid. Weirdly, the rest of the pieces were there, just as I had expected.

"It's quite late to be—"

"Fuck! You scared me," I jumped and nervously looked at Pierre, who had just scared the crap out of me. He squinted when I shined my flashlight on him. "Uh, Pierre, what are you doing here? It's 3 in the morning, shouldn't you be home?"

"Apologies for the scare. I had fallen asleep on the couch," He clarified.

His eyes shifted toward my hand, the one holding the piece of paper. Despite the darkness, I could tell that's what he was looking at. "May I ask what has you searching through such an unsanitary place?" He asked, though it didn't sound genuine, since I knew he already knew the answer to his own question.

"I was just going to get a glass of water and then I saw a small piece of paper on the ground." I told him the truth.

But he didn't believe me, I could tell by the look in his eyes. Right after that, he looked for the light switch and turned on the lights. "Certain matters are best left alone. I would advise you to approach whatever it is you're searching for with the same discretion."

Ugh, why does he always speak like that? It took me a moment to understand what he meant, but once it hit me, I spoke up. "Next time, make sure to hide your mess better." I tossed the small piece of paper I had been holding into the trash can. "Also, why do you keep opening all the mail?" I took the opportunity to ask.

"There has been a considerable increase in mail scams."

Right. I was too tired to bother calling out his lie. "Alright. Goodnight," I told him and started to make my way out of the kitchen.

"What? No questions? That's rather unexpected from you," He said, causing me to stop in my tracks, and turn to face him again.

"Oh no, I'm just waiting for you to make another mistake, which I know you will. The more you continue tearing and hiding all the mail, the sooner you'll slip up. I doubt you'll want to spend the rest of your life doing all of that, anyway." After finishing, I shrugged my shoulders, and made my way out of the kitchen.

So much for that glass of water.

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