Indecisive ((Yandere Cleo De Nile x F. Reader))

Chapter 38:

Cleo held you close to her body as the night continued, being sure to cater to your stuff joints and slowly massage them with her free hand. You whimpered as the pain increased.

"I'm going to give you two options, do you hear me?" Cleo mumbled against your hair.

"Yes ma'am."

"You can either listen to me and never mess up again, or you can go right back in the cage." Her voice was bitter and uninviting. "Which one?"

"I-I'll listen." You whispered. "I promise."

"You promise?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good. Now go take a shower. I bet you're hungry."

You slid out of the bed and hobbled to the door, your limbs still tight and sore from the abuse you endured. You stepped to the bathroom and stared in the mirror at yourself. Your hair was greasy and your face had a layer of slick shine, the oils drowning your pores in its disgusting trap. You wiped your hands down your face and stared at the residue it left.

You turned on the shower and stripped. Then, you waited patiently for the water to heat up. A knock came from the door.

"What's taking so long?" Cleo asked.

"I-I gotta wait...for the water....it's gotta heat up."

"No it doesn't. It's already hot."

You furrowed your brows and stuck your hand under the showerhead. Sure enough, the water was perfectly hot. You looked back at the door, embarrassment rising to your cheeks. You had always waited. Just now you find out you don't have to?

"Fucking rich people." You muttered. "Fuck these millionaires."

You didn't hear another voice from the other side of the door, showing that Cleo had already left. You stepped in and scrubbed your head and face. You were grossed out by the amount of oil that slid down your hands from your hair and face, and you scrubbed your hands and arms very well to get it off.

Once you stepped out, you felt like a completely different person. You felt clean, and you smelled much better than before.

You stepped out of the bathroom and to the bedroom where you got dressed. Then, you went to the kitchen. Cleo had a plate set out for you with pasta on it. You sat and ate gratefully, not wanting to say a word on the use of a plate over a bowl for the thick, hollow noodles.

You finished quickly, and Cleo dragged you back to her bedroom to blow dry your hair. She did so quickly and noiselessly, almost calming you from the things running through your brain. You loved her? You didn't think you did. But if Cleo did something with another girl...

Yeah, you loved her.

Cleo had no idea of the inner turmoil you faced. It felt like your brain had separated again, this time into 4 different voices instead of one. You grimaced. You really were losing it, weren't you?

Cleo shut off the machine and brushed through your hair.

"You know, I never liked you in the beginning." She hummed. "I thought you were a broke, good for nothing cunt."

You froze. She did? She didn't love you?

"I-I thought you loved me.."

"I do now." She snorted. "Even though you're a naive pussy."

It was such of a light insult. It was so much easier to handle than a lot of other things she could have said. But the pain it brought was unimaginable.

Sobs and whines escaped your throat, and you were thrown in a fit of hyperventilation and screaming. Cleo backed up, not recognizing the flip she had switched. She grabbed her blankets, a little embarrassed by your reaction, and left the room. She laid down on the couch, listening to your screams and cries for her to go back with you.

She didn't. She felt her heart sink from uncaring to pained. Why did she have to say those things? Why did she have to hurt you, knowing fully well the kind of inner battles you were having? Why couldn't she be a good girlfriend, a normal girlfriend? Why did she have to be so abusive?

Cleo felt her own tears slip down her cheeks, and she covered her mouth with her hands to prevent any sounds from coming out. She didn't want to hurt you! She just did. It wasn't her fault! It just came out naturally, and she didn't know how to stop it.

It felt like a completely different person had said those things. It felt like a completely different person had locked you in the cage. Though she remembered doing it very vividly, she felt like it wasn't her. It was someone else. It had to have been. Did she have multiple personalities?

That'd be impossible. She remembered it happening. So what was wrong with her? Why did she switch so easily?

She sobbed more, not caring enough to go back in the room but caring about the fact that she didn't care. Life was too complicated.

But it'd all be okay, once you and her got through the rough patch she imagined you two in.