Husband

Ch.2: Thundering Fear (part 2)

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[WARNING]: This book will contain mature themes such as: Violence, Disturbing Imagery, Sexual content, extremely unacceptable behavior expressed by the antagonist, kidnapping, Dark, uncomfortable and disgusting topics, etcetera. Not suitable for readers under 18. A 'Yandere' should never be sought out in real life as they are incredibly toxic, dangerous and abusive. I do not condone the actions and/or the ideals of 'yanderes', this is purely fictional and should never be emulated in reality.

[WARNING/TRIGGER WARNING (TW)]: This chapter contains depictions of gore and violence. 

The antagonist (the 'yandere') is supposed to be unsettling and immoral (abusive), I do not condone his ways.

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You peered over your shoulders every few seconds, fearing that Husband might come in and catch you in the act.

Quietly pulling on the knob, the drawer slid out of it's compartment to reveal a brown leather wallet with some dark, unknown stains on it. You grimaced and picked it up with your index and thumb.

Much to your surprise and shock, the first thing your eyes landed on was a passport sized photo of a smiling girl with (h/c) hair, (e/c) eyes and (skin tone) skin. She's absolutely radiant and beaming despite having bandages and scrapes on her face. In that very picture, she's showing off a golden medal in her (dominant hand) gloved hand.

It looks like she's in a uniform built for combat, she's also wearing a bulky helmet to protect her head.

Is that you? No, was that you? Is that how you lost your memory, in a war?

You wanted to stare at it for a longer time, however, something— rather, someone pinched your ear.

"Ow!" You dropped the wallet and instinctively brought your hands up to pry away those pinching fingers.

"How rude of you to sift through my personal belongings without my permission." Husband growled as he pulled you by the ear. It was never in his intention to hurt you, just to teach you a lesson.

You whined in pain as you begged him to let you go. Husband scowled and sat on the edge of the bed. He pulled you onto his lap and finally lets go of your soft tissue.

"What do you have to say for yourself, (y/n)?" He narrowed his eyes at you as he now pinched both of your cheeks. You held onto his arms or you might just fall from his lap.

"Ow! I'm sorry! I won't do it again!" Finally, he lets ago. But wrapped his arms around your waist to support you.

You took this chance to rub the sore spots on your face with your hands. Husband stared down at you with a menacing glower.

"You little troublemaker. You just can't keep your hands to yourself— fine. Go crazy with it." Husband picked the wallet up from the carpeted floor and gently tossed it to you.

"Thank you, Sir— I mean Husband!" You fumbled with it in your hands as Husband relaxed his muscles, resting his chin on the top of your head. A pout found its way to his lips, he has a strong distaste for the word 'sir'. But... you can't seem to stop yourself from calling him that, bad habits do die hard.

You immediately picked up where you left off, staring at the picture of the beautiful girl.

A soft chuckle left his lips. "Do you find her pretty?" He asked, rubbing your arms up and down.