You woke up the next morning mortified, just absolutely mortified. Never in your life had you regretted a decision more. You never should have agreed to come to dinner to begin with, but you certainly shouldn't have gotten so drunk.
You were so nauseous that it felt like the bed was swaying, like a rowboat afloat in the middle of the ocean.
You're not going to throw up! Not again. Don't throw up, you repeated to yourself on loop as you struggled in your blanket burrito. You imagined this is what a bug cocooned in a spider's web must feel like. Eventually you rocked the bed so frantically that you woke Lanius.
"Go back to sleep," she muttered too close to your ear, close enough that you could feel the warmth and wetness of her breath in your ear canal. Then she flexed the arm around your waist, holding you just a little bit tighter. The intimacy made you itch for some reason you didn't want to think about.
"I've gotta go to the bathroom," you whined, swallowing repeatedly, reflexively, to keep from puking your guts out all over her goose-feather pillows.
With a groan, she deftly unwrapped you from your warm and fuzzy prison. You were too proud to sprint to the bathroom suite, but you did move quickly and with purpose, all but slamming the door behind you.
You must not have remembered to lock it, however, because Lanius sauntered in a few minutes later, when your stomach was empty and the toilet bowl was full. She pulled your hair away from your face --how you managed to keep it clean of vomit not just once but twice now was a blessing you weren't meant to understand-- and secured it with a little clip.
She'd found you a spare toothbrush by the time the toilet was finished flushing.
Still half-asleep, she didn't say much as the two of you brushed your teeth together, side-by-side, in front of the mirror. You liked it, though, even if you nearly knocked your heads together when you both leaned over the sink to spit. Again, it was very domestic.
"I should get going," you said after that. Before things got awkward.
"No, you should stay! For breakfast!" She crowed in response, which sounded like possibly the worst idea she could have suggested. Then, having seen your expression sour, the 'no' written all over your face, she tried again. "Please? You haven't been able to keep down anything I've fed you."
That was no fault of hers. Your self-destructive tendencies were the problem. But that wasn't anything new. You were nothing if not a self-fulfilling prophecy. You'd die before you became your mother, though.
That got you thinking about your recent call from home, your mother's warning not to get close to Lanius. Trouble was you were already too close. If you couldn't put any more distance between the two of you, you should at least maintain the current distance.
"Raincheck," you said, holding up your index finger. "I don't feel so good right now, probably couldn't keep anything down... I'll come back another time, though."
"Promise?" She asked with a solemn expression. It looked so odd on her. Then the moment passed and she was her usual jovial self again. She still wanted your word, though. "Pinky promise?" She asked again, holding out her hand with only her pinky raised.
You snorted before reaching out and hooking your pinky around hers. "Promise."
...
You lied. So what? It was Lanius's fault for just taking you at your word. She didn't know you from Eve. How could she trust you like that?
That didn't mean she made it easy for you, however. You really shouldn't have given her your phone number. She texted you every waking hour and, if you didn't reply to her before the end of the day, she called you. Your social anxiety was through the roof!
One day you decided to ignore her texts and calls... After all, what was the worst that could happen?
The crazy lady showed up at your doorstep that night!
"Y/N!" She said, rushing forward to hug you as soon as you opened the front door. You were cranky to say the least, seeing as you were already in your pajamas and exhausted from a day of clearing out all the wardrobes, chests, and drawers. "I was afraid something happened to you!"
You wedged your arms between the two of you and pushed her away in order to maintain a respectful distance. "What could have possibly happened to me?" You snapped grouchily.
"I don't know! I just-- I didn't hear from you, and I expected the worst! Like you'd been attacked by an ax murderer!"
Okay, admittedly you'd feared the same when you first arrived at your grandmother's isolated cabin. But you realized that was just your lizard brain's reaction to the dark, not a real thing that was going to happen.
"Lanius, this has to stop," you told her in a firm voice, like you were reprimanding a child or pet and not a grown woman several years your senior. "The hourly texts, the daily calls, the unannounced visits...! I'm busy! I need to get this house cleaned and sold before I return to college in the spring."
She looked so heartbroken, so absolutely devastated, that you almost felt a little bad. But the keywords there were 'almost' and 'little.' She brought this upon herself by being so annoying!
"I just... I thought..." She stuttered. Her shoulders fell, causing her to huddle in on herself. And you knew it wasn't due to the cold.
"Well, you thought wrong! I can take care of myself." Perhaps you were being too sharp, too mean, but you had to be clear and concise, or else she would misunderstand you and never learn.
Then that vulnerable expression disappeared from her features, like a slate that had been wiped clean.
"Alright," she replied, cool as an autumn breeze at the end of summer. "I won't bother you again."
You nodded once in agreement. "See that you don't. Good-bye, Lanius," you said, before calmly shutting the door in her face.
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Mr Wolf, Mr Wolf, what time is it?
Eight o'clock...
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YOU ARE READING
The Work of Wolves || Yandere!Werewolf X F!Reader
Horror"People should be judged not by their outward demeanor but by their works, for many in sheep's clothing do the work of wolves." Based on Mr Wolf, What Time Is It?
