How to Make a Sinner Sleep - Chapter 76: Chapter 76

Kaden read the slip of paper, folded and creased several times, solemnly. That night, at the Circus, he'd mouthed to the snake woman as she passed, "I have information."
In return, he received a small and crumpled note.
"I have poor eyesight, so if your expectation was my ability to read lips, you were mistaken."
He paused, "......"
Then, he continued reading after an unnecessary gap of white space.
"But I assume you have something to tell me, so meet me in the main cathedral in Corpus late evening within a week. The day doesn't matter—I'll know when you enter."
He'd silently stared and then pocketed the note as the other performers traded and exchanged information or goods. A person with a pet fish, kept alive in ways Kaden didn't want to understand, demonstrated tricks. Another revealed their boneless body, twisting themselves into a pretzel.
But there had been nothing left of value that night that interested their Misfits.
A body moved behind him, placing bowls onto the counter. He saw a black flutter of fabric loop over his head as Noah bent his head down, tying it into a neat ribbon behind Kaden's back.
He glanced casually at the slip of paper that hadn't been hidden away, and adjusted the apron on Kaden's back once more.
"You're not hiding it."
"I'm getting better at figuring you out, Bellamy." said Kaden cheekily, folding the paper and tucking it away slowly. "You don't want me hiding this."
"Is it dangerous? The one you're meeting."
"Possibly."
"Then don't hide it from me."
Kaden nodded, and glanced back at the snug string around his waist. "You're no longer choking me with it? Look at the development, dearest Bellamy. You're so kind now."
Noah raised his eyebrows, giving a stern experimental pull as Kaden sucked in a breath. "Don't get arrogant, Chauvet."
"It's your actions that allow my arrogance to flourish. What're we making today?"
A gleam of interest twinkled in Kaden's eyes as he asked, and Noah sighed helplessly, moving to the ingredients he'd spread on the table. He remembered, the first time he saw Kaden standing in the middle of the room, looking out of place.
Noah's first impression had been closer to awful than good. First, he suspected that Kaden was following him—it was a reasonable doubt, for a person who seemed to want to keep away, Kaden kept appearing around him.
That was why, with Kaden's unwillingness, Noah had assumed the man had a purpose. It wasn't impossible.
Then that fool had widened his eyes when paired with the dragon, fully displaying his unwillingness and desperation to escape. That had annoyed Noah.
And they cooked, and Kaden's ability was beyond lacking. The supposed murderous dog of the royal family gazed at the wriggling shrimp and refused to kill them. Noah had been conflicted, then.
That awkward, lonely fool buried in the layers of opinion that others burdened him with—Noah seemed to know that it was impossible to hate such a person.
"We're making laminated dough." It would take longer than the class alone, but neither had classes after, so Noah had decided to indulge in something more complicated. "We'll make pastries from them."
"Okay... what's the first step?"
"The dough."
"When I say first step, I mean exactly what measurement of what specific ingredient do I need, and what precise culinary equipment should I grab?"
The dough was the easiest part, and Noah directed Kaden to knead it thoroughly, the muscles on Kaden's forearm tensing as he folded and pressed into the dough, his sleeves rolled above his elbows.
It was around 10 minutes by the time Noah pressed a finger into the soft plume, and Kaden watched in satisfaction as it slowly bounced back.
They covered the bowl with a damp cloth and tucked it into the oven that had been briefly turned on to warm the inside. Kaden squatted down for a few extra seconds, basking in the warmth.
Noah watched him patiently before dragging him away from the oven and towards the stove.
"Next, the custard."
Thus begun the filling process. Several of their classmates peaked over, watching one serious dragon and a second confused sinner.
Kaden smiled at the eggs, handing them innocently to Noah. "Aren't you going to crack them?" He wanted to see the one-handed demonstration again.
Noah felt a little amused. "Isn't it your turn?"
"To what?"
"To crack them."
The pink-haired man considered it, nodding slowly. "Say, is there protein in the shells? It's edible in small amounts isn't it?"
"...yes?"
"Perfect. Then I'll crack away—"
The dragon smoothly took the raised eggs from Kaden's ready hands, cracking two against each other. He watched Kaden do the last carefully, separating the yolks into the bowl.
Kaden held the cracked egg close to his eyes, squinting as he carefully spilled the whites into the bowl, trapping the egg in the shell.
When he successfully separated it, he spun around to look at Noah.
Noah's praised, "You did it."
"Soon, the student will surpass the master. Be prepared, Bellamy."
The confident sinner turned back to the ingredients, feeling a rise of arrogance. A few seconds later, with the custard mixed together and set over a low heat on an open flame, Kaden's confidence wilted.
"Whisk faster." warned Noah. "The eggs will curdle."
"I can hear the whisk scraping against the pot—you don't have to put that much strength."
"Chauvet. Do not stand that close to the stove."
"...turning up the flames does not speed up the process, Chauvet."
Kaden sheepishly turned the flames back down and resumed his rapid whisking, hearing the scolding in Noah's voice. It couldn't be helped; he was stressed, and when he was stressed, he wanted things to be done more quickly.
"I thought you were wiser than to give me such a crucial task, Bellamy."
"Continue whisking."
"It's clumping." said Kaden a couple seconds later, frowning. "Clumping. It definitely isn't supposed to do that, is it? Bellamy, what do we do?"
"Calm down."
"I'm calm, and it's clumping. Those are two facts right there."
"There's a fallacy. You're not calm, but it'll be fine. Keep whisking."
Noah drew closer to Kaden, leaning over the man's shoulder to observe the custard. It had curdled a little, but for the most part, was relatively smooth. Although even if it had become nearly unusable, Noah would've blended the custard and used it regardless.
In baking for oneself, things didn't have to be perfect. The process itself wasn't supposed to be stressful.
"Bellamy, I hate to tell you but this is a failur—"
"Keep whisking."
"You're repeating yourself now—"
"And you're panicking for nothing. Chauvet, you said you trusted me. Therefore, do as I say."
Kaden, in some ways, was a bit of a perfectionist. When it came to others, he didn't care, but when committing to a task, he needed it done perfectly.
Whether it were his studious and neat notes that had to be rewritten if he crossed out a word, or a touch of imperfection in the food that he made. Kaden was insecure off all the things he did wrong, keenly aware of his own mistakes.
This was one of the reasons Noah chose to make a laminated pastry with a custard filling. Both were susceptible to failure, but failure didn't make them inedible.
They became a little uglier, sure, but that was it.
Kaden furrowed his eyebrows, wanting deeply to protest but under his cooking teacher's stern gaze, he could only continue mixing. Eventually, the texture became thicker and Noah took it off the heat, giving it a brief mix before he pushed it through a fine sieve.
Satisfaction filled Kaden as the clumps of cooked egg were left behind, leaving a smooth cream. It wasn't perfect, undoubtedly, and Kaden wondered if they should remake it.
Then, a small spoon tapped against his lip. Kaden looked up, and Noah waited as the former slightly parted his mouth and tasted the pastry cream.
"Good?" Noah asked.
Kaden licked his lips and nodded. "Good."
"Then stop over-thinking. It tastes fine, even with a few clumps."
Kaden reluctantly moved onto the next tasks until they both crouched down by the oven, lifting a corner of the towel and peaking at the bowl. The dough, already soft and round, had expanded to double its size, sticking to the sides.
Kaden had an irresistible urge to touch it.
Noah, satisfied at the development, pulled it out of the oven.
"All yours."
"Really? You aren't compelled to beat it?"
The dragon paused at the wording, understanding what Kaden meant—risen dough was the best to release anger on—but he still felt the wording was strange.
He decided not to comment. "I've done it before, and we'll do it again."
"You're generous, Bellamy. How admirable of you."
"Are you going to punch it down?" Indifferently, he reached out his hands to snatch the bowl.
Kaden clutched it towards himself. "I'm punching, I'm punching."
Kaden sunk his fingers, releasing the air that had expanded. It was therapeutic, pushing down the fluffy dough and kneading it in his hands. He imagined working in an artisan bakery, selling bread on the streets.
It was the first time that he'd thought of his life after everything was over. A normal life, without violence and misery.
Kaden glanced sideways at the dragon whose focus rested entirely on the man kneading dough. Where would Noah be in that mundane future, if it existed?
He remembered the confession he still hadn't answered.
The question should be reworded. Could there be such a mundane future, without Noah Bellamy at his side? He could hardly make bread alone, and his lacking socializing skills would make him a poor seller. He'd go out of business!
Of course, Noah wasn't the most talkative person either, so it was debatable whether that dragon could sell bread. But being around somebody who talked even less than him made him more talkative.
But Noah would be there, and that was a variable that had to remain a constant.
'Ah,' he decided belatedly, realizing the answer had been in front of him all along. 'Some how, all my dreams became him.'
And if the only thing he wished for in the future was the company of a gloomy dragon who liked to scold him, then he couldn't keep running away. If by chance, he was allowed to escape at the end of everything, if he was given freedom...
Kaden's hands pressing into the dough paused, and Noah cocked his head in question. "Are you done?"
"The Academy throws a party to celebrate the end of the year, right?"
Noah was confused but nodded. "Yes, they do."
"That night,"
If this year could conclude satisfactorily, and the present time could remain positive, then perhaps he could be something more, do something more. Something he wouldn't have considered doing in the past.
His hands curled into the dough nervously as Noah rested one arm on the counter, frowning.
"I'll give you a response to your question."
Noah's eyes widened in surprise, and his grip loosened on the counter, slipping as his arm swept across a used bowl, metal clattering. He snapped to attention, hurriedly catching the bowl before it fell to the ground and readjusted himself.
Kaden coughed, and then the coughs split into amused laughter.
What was with that reaction?
He thought Noah might reject him—he could only give a response in several month's time, and he hadn't even specified what response it would be.
"If that's too long—"
"Only until then?" Noah exhaled, running long fingers through his messy hair. "I was prepared to wait longer."
Kaden swallowed his words, pressing his lips flat together. How could a person know how to say the precise words that could comfort him? How could a soul be made so lovely in their depths, carved in every curve and crook that spelt perfection?
How could he have been so blessed in this life to meet this dragon?
He felt so overwhelmed by existence that it stole his ability to breathe.
Noah felt his emotions stirring in his stomach, a bundle of silly nerves and excitement. He calmed himself, knowing to take it slow for the sake of the fool before him.
A few months wait? He'd been prepared to wait a decade, if that was what the man needed. He could be renamed a fool, stripped of the calm facade he often wore, and none of it mattered.
They continued making the pastries in silence, carefully rolling butter into the dough to make layers. Standing shoulder by shoulder, Kaden would panic over tears in the thin film of dough and the escaping butter.
Noah quietly eased him, reminding that it would be fine, that it would be perfect. That there was no worrying about something already done—"Keep rolling, Chauvet. It will be fine."
And it was the truth, as it always was when it came to words spoken by that dragon's lips.
Long after the other students had left, though sneaking glances at the engrossed pair, they continued.
Noah was tasked to decorate the danishes, lightly dusting the top with sugary powder. Kaden sat down, watching the skillful movements in a daze.
"If you opened a bakery, Bellamy, I would frequent every day."
Noah lifted his gaze. "You'll be my reader and my customer?"
"The things you create are of the best quality, dearest dragon. Provide me entertainment and food."
There was a faint chuckle. "Demanding."
"You aren't refusing."
"I won't make a deal on unequal terms. What will you give me in return?"
Kaden tilted his head, lips curving into a smile as Noah cut one of the danishes in half, leaning forward to press it to Kaden's lips. The man opened his mouth obediently, taking a bite as his eyes curved in delight.
"Delicious. You were right, as always. It's delicious despite its flaws." Kaden grabbed the rest of the danish, chewing happily. "How about I give you my endless devotion?"
"Is that what my creations are worth?"
"My devotion is a luxury to receive, don't you know? Even Niklas isn't graced with the delight of my affection."
Noah shook his head, bending his head to bite down onto the pastry himself as he licked his lips with satisfaction. "Is that so?"
"It's absolutely so."
The dragon hummed, walking to sit beside Kaden. "Then what should my menu be? As my devoted customer, shouldn't you help me think of ideas?"
Kaden considered it, the sort of things that would be displayed in a small bakery or store run by Noah, standing behind the counter with a brown or black apron tied around his waist, sleeves rolled up.
It would be a cozy store, decided Kaden knowingly. A place that felt like home, smelling of freshly baked foods and paper, books decorating the shelves.
Perhaps there'd be a dedicated corner, a small wooden table covered in notes and papers of the million of stories running in the dragon's wondrous mind. Filling up throughout the day by random spurs of inspiration.
"Fried rice for lunch." said Kaden finally.
Noah rested his head on his hand. "And danishes and macarons for dessert?"
"We haven't done anything for breakfast yet."
"Then we'll do so soon. What do you want to make, Chauvet?"
Noah had wiped his hands on his apron, grabbing a small notebook from the counter as he flipped it to an empty page, waiting. The smell of buttery pastries filled the air, and the muffled sound of chatter passed the doorway on occasions.
Kaden bent his head down, naming various things he'd seen sold in the windows of bakeries or on the side of the streets. They were all foods he never dared taste in the past. One by one, they'd appear in black ink, scrawled across the paper like a promise.
Day slipped into night as the list continued to increase, and Kaden delighted in the empty space below that waited to be filled.
"Do you like lists, Bellamy?" A strange and random question was asked.
"...I don't dislike them."
"I like them," said the other simply. "I like them a lot. They're little reminders of sorts. Things you want to do, reasons you like a person—"
"Reasons you dislike a person."
Kaden stared at him oddly. "Well, that'd be an odd list to make." He stated before returning to his task of thinking of different foods he wanted to taste, deep in rumination.
The dragon's dark eyes flicked up momentarily, at the wistful and quiet happiness in his sinner's face. As an author, he appreciated all art and the way an artist's soul was captured in a permanence the living couldn't express.
Therefore, he felt deeply irritated.
If there were fourteen things to dislike about Kaden Chauvet, one would be that lonely face that was more soulful than a painting.