My Sister's Lunatic Fiancé Is Trying To Seduce Me! || Yandere Male X Reader/Oc

「Prologue」

Perhaps the whole shooting match would've worked out differently had she clasped that guileful man's hand.

Back then, when the effulgent lights of the bewitching stars dappled a clearer night sky than ever witnessed in decades and the nippy autumn wind had decelerated to an affable cadence, fetching forth the fragrance of refreshing grass and the damp rain scent she appreciated so much. Back then, when the torrid taste of exorbitant wine had layered her tongue thickly, pursuing a white-hot course down her chest, a path brimming with a capricious frost to the treacherous beating organ she yearned to get rid of— when the influence of the alcohol had blurred out that man's face faultlessly, providing her the beguiling chance of easily picturing someone else—another man, a man she shouldn't desire—in his place.

Back then, she could've freely said, yes, I want you to make me lose. And she knew without a doubt he'd fulfill his end of the bargain. His serpentine tongue would weave the suitable words and his intrinsic aptitude for playacting would mesmerize her enough to twist the tangle of artifice until right aligned with wrong.

Back then, she'd have woken up the next morning regretting it. And she would've still forced herself into the role despite her sorrows and rage. Because it was a gamble, undeterred by everything else. A chance to forget him.

Although now, it was too late.

That fantasy regarding a make-believe performance was farther away than she'd hoped. A nebulous chateau in a sweltering desert where illusions and humane desperation fit together seamlessly. No matter what she wished, it was impossible to recover the missed opportunities.

Because her heart had chosen the forbidden apple; an apple that appeared toothsome on the outside, tantalizing with its redness, with its bold delightful quality. Yet, if she broke apart this apple, she supposed she'd find numerous tiny maggots wriggling inside putrescent little dark cavities. What was more condemnatory, though, was the knowledge— the certitude that she'd still pick the apple even if she knew it to be rotten.

                  Her heart had chosen. 

Thus, she had nowhere to escape.

Y/N's steely gaze lifted to meet his, her head tilted all the way back as she reclined languidly on the sofa in the middle of his room. Completely relaxed like she belonged there, like she had the entitlement to be here without question as to how it may—no, how it would—seem to the others. 

And maybe she could've defended herself by saying that she was merely paying a visit for an innocuous chat, regardless of the grandfather clock accusingly pointing its unforgiving arrows toward the hour of immorality; midnight— If only she wasn't wearing an incriminatory long white lace dressing gown which she'd left deliberately loose, showing off the bare skin of her legs and cleavage. If only she wasn't holding a wine glass in hand, the crimson liquid swishing enticingly as she twirled it between her graceful fingers. 

Certainly, he wasn't naive.

He stood silently at the doorway, the shadows of the dim lighting casting severe angles over his ruthlessly alluring features, granting a preternatural aura— so very tall, he was, taller than most men, his intimidating stature serving to reinforce everything charming about him. So very powerful, he was, the lean muscles stretched taut beneath his glossy black suit, his necktie undone in a natural captivating manner. So very.. 

Beautiful was all she could think of. How could a human look absurdly gorgeous? He must be an incubus, a creature of irresistible darkness that murmured endlessly to encourage one's longings, and if ... not, however unbelievable it sounded, then he must be the perfect form of beauty humanity had ever produced. Could ever aspire to produce.