MON AMOUR, JE T'AIME -> k.mbappe

☆⋅⋆ ── 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲

whenever she self-reflected she always asked herself the same question. but then again, she wouldn't have met kylian if it hadn't been for all this.

the international french striker had somehow opened a world for her that evan had closed. love was about creating and he had created a world full of colors for her after evan had squeezed all the color out of hers. it meant picking up the pieces no matter how small they were because the person was worth it. she was worth it.

kylian had decided that when he had first met her. he had been bored out of his mind, that specific night, before his eyes had spotted her. he had only seen her from the back, but had immediately been intrigued by her. especially because the bartender was serving her drink after drink, which had instantly impressed him. he could count on one hand, the amount of women, he knew that were able to drink like that. needless to say, he had an invisible pull towards her.

and getting to know her had also been a complete blast. after getting over the fact that he was flirting with his celebrity crush (something he hadn't told anyone about), he was immediately wooed by her, especially her sarcasm and smiley attidue. sure, at the moment it didn't come out much but when it did, kylian often felt himself fall all over for her again because it was the most beautiful thing on her. he didn't understand how the medias could write such things about such a lovely person and still wondered how this asshole was able to date such a stunning woman like her. (he was ready to offer his whole contract if someone gave him the answer to his question.)

evan had the upper-hand in her tricky situation and the article made it clear. still, her flop at relationships couldn't have been that bad, since evan had been the only person she had ever dated. and she certainly wasn't a narcissistic person. he loved to spin her words around.

amara was the furthest thing from a narcissist. and she had never cheated in her entire life. not even on a basic school test and certainly not on a person. so of course it hurt her when several articles were thrown around, where her ex-boyfriend stated that she had cheated on him in the beginning.

the thing that upset her the most was the way he spun the story. he could have said what he wanted to keep the public on his side. but twisting the whole narrative and telling the public, she didn't care much about mental health was too far. especially because she still remembered the way he would laugh at her whenever she would have a panic attack. and for him to say now, she always joked about it.

he had never even know how a panic attack felt like — he wouldn't know the way it crept up slowly. like a tumor that had nested in. it built up slowly without any remarking, but slowly the symptoms were starting to get recognizable. that was anxiety. (something evan had probably never felt and why would he?)

as she read the article, angst started building up and like a maline tumor it spread through her body, leaving her brain for last. the further she read, the further it nestled in. when she had arrived at the end of the article, her hands were trembling and sweat pearls rolled down her forehead. she clutched her phone tightly, dizziness setting in with her vision blurring.

cause was the article that was opened on the display of her phone, the significance of the end of her career, everything she had worked so hard for — vanished with the simple publishing of a few words. her sweat, blood and tears were, all for nothing. the words were mocking her, giving power to the anxiety that had built up in her body. like a bomb and the detonator had just been lit. a wave of panic rushed down, this time anxiety had reached her head.