The Parasite [Yandere x Reader]

Chapter 31 - (The Help)

The next day dawned with a deceptive calmness, the morning sun casting its golden light across the estate. Damian seemed unusually chipper as he untied me and led me to the front porch, securing me to a sturdy chair with practiced efficiency.

Each day, my hatred for him burned brighter, fueled by the indignity of being tethered to my own home.

"Enjoy the sunshine," he said cheerily, pressing a cold glass of lemonade into my hand. "I'll be right back."

I glared at him as he strode off towards the shed, returning moments later with a lawnmower. With a flourish, he stripped off his shirt, revealing a well-toned torso glistening with sweat.

He shot me a cocky grin before starting the mower, pushing it across the lawn with exaggerated movements, clearly trying to show off.

"What's wrong?" he called over the noise, his voice dripping with faux innocence. "Can't seem to keep your eyes off me?"

"Maybe because YOU TIED ME UP ON MY OWN FRONT PORCH," I snapped, my voice laced with passive-aggressive fury.

"At least I gave you some lemonade," he replied with a smirk, unfazed by my anger.

I took a sip of the lemonade, its sweetness doing nothing to quench the bitterness I felt. "Gee, thanks. Such a considerate captor."

Damian chuckled, continuing to mow the lawn as if we were just a normal couple enjoying a sunny afternoon. My eyes followed him, but not for the reasons he assumed.

I was watching, waiting for any opportunity to exploit, any moment when I could break free.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally finished and walked back to the porch, wiping sweat from his brow. He picked up the lemonade pitcher and refilled my glass, then leaned against the porch railing, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Enjoying the view?" he asked, his tone teasing.

I forced a smile, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, absolutely. Best show I've seen in ages."

He laughed, taking a long drink from his own glass. "You know, darling, this could be a lot easier if you just accepted it."

"Accepted what?" I shot back. "That my life is now some twisted version of a soap opera?"

"That we could be happy," he said, his tone turning serious. "That this doesn't have to be a nightmare."

I glared at him, my anger boiling over. "This will always be a nightmare, Damian. You can't force someone to love you."

"Love can be learned," he said quietly, almost to himself.

"Not like this," I retorted. "Never like this."

He sighed, setting his glass down. "You'll see, in time. You'll come to understand."

"I doubt it," I muttered, looking away.

Damian stood up and stretched, his muscles flexing in the afternoon sun. "Well, I have some more chores to do. Don't go anywhere."

"Like I have a choice," I muttered under my breath.

As he walked away, I allowed myself a moment of raw frustration, clenching my fists and gritting my teeth. But then I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. I had to keep my wits about me.

I had to be ready for any chance to escape.

The lemonade glass was still cold in my hand, a small comfort in an otherwise unbearable situation. I took another sip, letting the sweetness linger on my tongue as I stared out at the neatly trimmed lawn.

Somewhere beyond this nightmare, there was freedom. I just had to find a way to reach it.

I won't give up. I'll wait for my moment.

Someone will come.