Dealing with the Devil [Yandere x Reader]

Chapter 3 - Learn

With trembling hands, I retreated into my room and closed the door behind me, the world outside now feeling like an eerie and uncertain place. My emotions swirled, and I teetered on the verge of tears as a haunting question echoed in my mind:

Why?

I start at my laptop with tears, with my email open staring at the hundreds of rejections. I sighed as my phone buzzed again.

"Those agents are losing a true talent, no one is better than you at writing"

Oh great, the stalker has to cheer me up.

I took the battery out of my phone and layed down.

The following day, I bolted out of bed, sprinting into the bathroom in a frantic rush to get ready. I managed to make it all the way to my class, only to realize with a sinking feeling that I had left my phone behind at home. My anxiety grew as I dreaded the consequences of my forgetfulness.

At the end of the class, the teacher approached me with an inscrutable expression on his face.

"I've scheduled you for Tuesdays and Fridays at 5 p.m. How does that work for you?" he inquired, his demeanor giving nothing away.

"Thank you, sir," I replied, my voice quivering with a mixture of gratitude and apprehension.

"Excellent, it begins today. You better hurry," he urged.

"Where is it?" I asked, my heart pounding.

"Oh, it's in the library, but specifically, the black room."

As I ventured into the library, an eerie silence enveloped me, contrasting with the usual buzz of activity. I made my way to the designated room, and to my utter shock, I found myself face to face with an individual known on campus as "the Devil."

"Hi, Y/N, right? My name's Christian, and I'll be your tutor," he greeted me with a disheveled appearance that contradicted his bright smile.

In that moment, I silently prayed to any deity listening, pleading for an escape from this surreal situation.

"Oh, um," I stammered, at a loss for words. I had never seen this man smile before, and my mind raced with the unsettling thought that he was probably going to make my life a living hell.

He gently pushed me into the room, and I gingerly took a seat at the table, my heart pounding erratically in my chest. The air felt stifling, and I couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of terror that had gripped me since the moment I realized who my tutor would be.

He settled in beside me, and the intensity of his body heat seemed to envelop me in an uncomfortable, suffocating embrace. Considering i don't have a jacket right now, it felt nice.

With a casual demeanor that belied my inner turmoil, he pulled out a few sheets of paper and broke the silence, saying, "I got these from the teacher, and we are going to go over a few."

My mind raced, and my hands trembled slightly as I fumbled to grasp the papers. Yeah, I'm definitely going to die here, I thought, my eyes darting around the room for a possible escape route.

"Let's go over number one," he continued, his voice steady and composed.

I fought to maintain my focus, doing my absolute best to concentrate on the task at hand. However, it was challenging when he leaned in close to explain my mistakes, and it felt as if he were invading my personal space to an unsettling degree. The unease gnawed at me, and I resisted the urge to shrink away from his proximity.

"You seem a bit on edge," he observed, his voice tinged with curiosity.

I wondered whether he genuinely failed to recognize the source of my apprehension or if he was merely toying with me. My mind couldn't escape the haunting memories of that brutal New Year's party brawl, replaying the gruesome images of his relentless assault and the lifeless eyes that had stared back at me.

"Uh, I just left my phone at home," I stammered, my voice quivering, "I feel a bit awkward without it."

"Oh, well, that must be terrible," he replied, his smile appearing almost too friendly given the circumstances.

"Yeah, it is," I said, struggling to maintain composure. "How long does this usually last?"

"The tutoring? Around two, maybe three hours," he answered, his nonchalant tone doing little to soothe my nerves.

"Uh... Look, I'm sorry about the coffee thing," I ventured, attempting to ease the tension that lingered in the air.

"Water under the bridge; it's just a jacket," he reassured me with a disarming smile.

If only I could believe that. The fear that had taken root in my mind continued to claw at my thoughts, leaving me in a state of constant apprehension.

As the session progressed, I couldn't help but remain hyper-aware of his every move, terrified that he might suddenly snap

As we concluded the session, I couldn't help but think that if it weren't for the constant fear lurking at the back of my mind, I might actually consider him quite skilled. He meticulously corrected all of my errors and offered insightful guidance on how to address my weaknesses.

To be honest, for a brief moment, I almost managed to forget who he was.