Infinity || Yandere males sequel

《01》Finer things

The corner of my mind was stale — a safe haven of empty thoughts ran to in many times of need.

A blank space sought out in the cold, dreary despair of long held heartache wanting to be forgotten...

A bandaid to cover the bullet wound of panic barely kept in check.

Nightmares fading into bleak, blacked out moments of sleep.

Almost two years.

It had been two years and despite the want to forget...I always found my mind drifting back to that time as if it were a moment stained with the crystal red sea of blood on the petals of a snow hued flower.

The beginning of a second year was drawing near, an anniversary not wanting to be celebrated, yet like the year prior it came. It always would.

My dreadful reminder I was still somehow at peace with. Bitterly grateful for.

I felt different, mentally at least — my emotions and self perception grown into a still stubborn, somewhat clumsy young lady in her collage years. And still, even after nearly seven hundred days...I was the same girl from that long — or...perhaps short time ago.

That didn't seem right.

All those days...no months — hours ago?

Maybe I hadn't changed as much I had thought.

This still didn't feel fully real. The opportunity I had taken despite my meek conscience telling me it was wrong to use someone like that.
̶T̶o̶ ̶a̶c̶t̶ ̶l̶i̶k̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶h̶a̶d̶ ̶t̶i̶m̶e̶ ̶a̶f̶t̶e̶r̶ ̶t̶i̶m̶e̶ ̶a̶f̶t̶e̶r̶ ̶t̶i̶m̶e̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶s̶t̶o̶o̶p̶ ̶a̶s̶ ̶l̶o̶w̶ ̶a̶s̶.̶.̶.̶n̶o̶ ̶n̶o̶ ̶n̶o̶.̶ ̶
Breathe.
Breathe.
Breathe.
̶I̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶s̶a̶v̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶m̶y̶s̶e̶l̶f̶.̶ ̶I̶t̶ ̶h̶a̶d̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶d̶o̶n̶e̶.̶.̶.̶i̶t̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶b̶a̶d̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶n̶'̶t̶.̶.̶.̶t̶h̶a̶t̶.̶.̶.̶b̶a̶d̶.̶
Focus. On the good. On the details of blurred recollection.
The wind in my hair as my legs ran as fast as I could possibly go, driving me further from the madness I was once held in, the hallowed halls of hell I'd wake to every night just to find my room empty.

Breathe y/n...breathe.

I was lucky. I played my cards right and still...somehow it didn't feel like I had won. Maybe I hadn't won after all and this was some cruel nightmare I had yet to wake up from.

Wrists rubbed raw with the firm grip of metal.

Neck wrung from needed gasps of desperation. Gaze sparkling with the black dots preventing my lungs to taste the air.

Flesh bitten. Flesh burned. Flesh cherished in ways they would a god.

Soul bruised.

Defenses raised and swiftly torn down.

Nerves ripped to shreds.