→ ❛❛In which a chance encounter leads into a a dangerous obsession❜❜
After meeting y/n, Kuroo is plunged into an insane spiral of lies and deceit. Stalking her, following her, observing her, he slowly winds his way into her life and forms a relation...
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The enormity of what you'd done didn't hit you until you were back in Kuroo's car, him driving home just as the sun rose in the sky. There was barely any traffic, it being an early Sunday morning, and the two of you sat in the car in silence, neither of you daring to speak the unspeakable question: "What do we do now?"
Kuroo had revealed to you the true extent of his insanity. In fact, being next to him felt like holding a ticking bomb in your hand, knowing it could go off at any second. He was a killer, and completely, utterly obsessed with you.
But you were a murderer too. The weight of that fact sat on you like a suffocating pile of bricks on your chest. Whether you'd been manipulated into killing Naoka or not, you still had undeniably wielded the weapon that ended her life, and then concealed the body.
"Kuroo..." you croaked tentatively.
He never took his eyes off the road, his posture tense as he drove. "What."
"What do I do?"
Silence hovered in the air. Tell me what happens now, you begged him mentally. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. It shocked you to realise that instead of feeling a burning fire of rage directed at him, you just wanted him to care for you and comfort you, saying that it would all be alright somehow. You wished hated him, because hating him would give you someone to blame; make it easier for you to live with yourself if you could take anger out on him.
"You fucking killed someone, y/n," he said coldly.
"I know," you croaked.
"You have to live with that forever."
"I know."
"You're a murder."
"...I know." The words came as barely a whisper from the back of your throat. Tears threatened to choke you.
He sighed, like you were the problem that he had to deal with now. "If the police find out, you're fucking screwed."
"So," your lip trembled, "What do I do now?"
He glanced away from the endless stretch of the road in front of him and looked you dead in the eyes. He held the eye contact for long enough that you wanted to squirm beneath his gaze, feeling like he was tearing into your soul. "You don't do anything new now, y/n. You go about your life like everything is completely fine, and make sure you never, ever make a slip up. And you never leave me." His voice was low and laced with poison. "Because I'm the only one that can protect you from what you've done, and still love you. No one else will love you if they know what a terrible person you truly are. No one visits killers in prison. No one sends prayers to murderers. Without me, you'll end up in jail until the flesh rots off your bones, and after that, you'll burn in hell all alone."
You nodded, numbly drinking in his words like they were the anecdote that could cure you of your sin.
"You understand that, don't you, darling?"
"Yes."
"Never, ever, leave me."
You echoed his words like a prayer. "Never, ever."
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