???????????????????????????????????????? || Yandere!Dabi x Reader

2. Response

Fourteen days, ten hours, and twenty-six minutes. That's how long it's been since Dabi last spoke with you. Not that he was keeping track or anything. It's just something he noticed.

Eleven days ago, he sent you his first text. It was three days after your encounter, after your kiss, and after you were torn away from him. He figured it was a long enough waiting time, and settled for a simple "Hey." To text you. Nothing more, nothing less. Now the ball was in your court, and it was up to you to text him back and continue the conversation.

But it seemed like you were quite busy right now. Dabi would know, because he's standing outside your bedroom window, watching you.

It wasn't difficult to find you, just a simple google search of your name and number and college and the internet did its work. (With incognito and a deleted, web history, of course. He wasn't stupid.) Dabi did get some extra things out of this search, a few social media accounts that were all set to private, some resumes, and he had to admit, you were a smart girl. You knew not to show your whole life to people on the internet, like other brainless airheads, just the few people you trusted.

And that's how he wound up here. Outside your window, the only thing keeping him from you being a thick curtain and a sheet of glass. It seemed like you were trying to shut someone out, and Dabi knew better than to think it was him. Probably that dick who was dragging you away at that party.

Thankfully, it was night, and the sun had already gone down, so you didn't notice when your window silently creaked open, your curtain shifting slightly so Dabi could get a peek.

You were crying. You had been for over the past week or so. Clinging to your comforter and burying your face into it, and Dabi wishes that he knew you more so he could just come in there and comfort you, ask what's wrong, and kiss away those tears. He wishes he could be that blanket, holding your body tightly to his, while you squeezed onto him for dear life, rocking you back and forth and whispering soothing things into your hair.

He wishes, but he knows he can't. Not yet, anyway.

--

Your eyes are all bloodshot, and your head throbs in pain as you continue sobbing into your blanket. Your dorm is dark and cold, but you don't care. You don't have the motivation to get up. You haven't had the motivation to do anything like that for days. You barely even ate or drank, didn't go to your classes, didn't do your work, which you could feel piling up on you, didn't even go on your phone. You just laid there, wallowing in your self-pity and hatred.

If only your mother could see you. You remember the days in middle school when you would tell her that you felt bad and sad for no reason and that you thought you could be depressed. And all she would say was, "You're probably just having mood swings. It's normal for a girl your age. Trust me, if you were depressed, I would know."

But now look at you. You were a train wreck. You promised yourself when you graduated and left home, you would get yourself a therapist. But now, you could barely afford it.

You didn't even have a job, after being fired just a couple of months ago from the shitty office position you had. But you were lucky that your college has a program that lets you stay in dorms and get food without pay or anything, and you were basically leeching off of it.

Letting out a shaky breath, you lay flat on your back, looking up at the ceiling. While you didn't want to do anything, the boredom was starting to get to you. So you plugged in your phone (it had died a few days ago, and you couldn't bring yourself to charge it) waiting a minute or two for it to start up.

Once it turned back on, you looked through your notifications, seeing what you missed. Some of it was from social media, others from discord servers you weren't active in anymore, and just a few other texts. Most were from Takeyama, who you had gotten into an argument with after what happened at the party.