It's disappointing that my old Yandere Book Oneshot is no longer available. However, this new collection presents a perfect opportunity to showcase the growth in my writing skills.
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Jennie's PoV
The glittering cityscape sprawled beneath me, a million tiny diamonds mocking the cold knot of fury twisting in my gut. Below, on the balcony of my penthouse, Lisa and Y/n were a picture of sickening happiness. Lisa, all bubbly laughter and clingy hands, while Y/n, that infuriatingly kind soul, wore a smile that could light up a stadium.
"Ugh," I muttered, the sound swallowed by the roar of the city. "Get a room, you two."
It wasn't jealousy, not exactly. It was a primal possessiveness, a territorial growl deep within my core. I'd seen Y/n for the first time a few weeks ago at a charity gala. A random encounter, a fleeting glance, but something about the way his eyes, the color of a summer sky after a downpour, held mine for a beat too long sent a jolt through me.
Since then, I'd become obsessed. Every spare moment was spent devouring information about him online, memorizing his favorite color (a calming sky blue, just like his eyes, of course), even attending events I knew he'd be at, always "accidentally" bumping into him. He was perfect - kind, funny, completely oblivious to the storm brewing within me.
"Jennie?" Lisa's voice, laced with a sugary sweetness I found grating, cut through my thoughts. "Earth to Jennie. You coming down?"
I forced a smile, the mask slipping effortlessly into place. "Just enjoying the view, Lisa. You two have fun."
Their laughter, high-pitched and carefree, echoed up to me. My smile strained. This couldn't go on. He wasn't hers, not truly. He belonged with me.
Over the next few weeks, my obsession escalated. Sleep became a luxury I couldn't afford, replaced by nights spent stalking his social media, crafting elaborate scenarios in my head where he'd finally see me for who I truly was - the perfect match for his gentle soul.
One particularly galling night, I saw them again at a club. Lisa, oblivious airhead that she was, was engrossed in conversation with another girl. Y/n, however, stood alone, his smile dimmed, a flicker of sadness in his eyes. It was my chance.
Sauntering over, I struck up a conversation. He was easy to talk to, his gentle nature drawing me in further. As the night wore on, Lisa reappeared, her annoyance at my presence a poorly veiled mask.
"Hey, Y/n," she chirped, her voice dripping with forced cheer. "Ready to go?"
"In a bit, Lisa," he said, his gaze flicking back to me. "Just finishing a conversation with Jennie."
The possessiveness I felt was a physical ache, a monstrous thing clawing at my insides. It wasn't Lisa who deserved that smile, that kindness. It was me. That night, the seed of a twisted plan took root in my mind.
