The Parasite [Yandere x Reader]

Chapter 39 - (The Ignoring)

I woke up the next morning in a state of limbo. Everything felt muted and distant, like I was floating through a fog. 

My parents were dead.

Were they good people?

No.

Were they good parents?

Absolutely not.

I couldn't remember a time they truly cared about me, about anything other than themselves and their endless fights.

Were they even likable as people?

Also no.

But no one deserves to die like that. Not even them.

I sat up slowly, my body aching from the stiffness of a restless night. The door suddenly burst open, startling me. Damian stood there, grinning from ear to ear, his hands full with a tray of breakfast.

"Breakfast in bed?" he said cheerfully, as if yesterday had never happened. 

As if everything was fine.

I scowled at him, unable to summon any words. My stomach twisted at the sight of him, and the smell of food only made the nausea worse.

"Don't be like that," he said with an exaggerated sigh, walking over to the bed and setting the tray down in front of me. "Now eat." His tone shifted to something almost demanding, and I could feel his eyes boring into me as I kept my gaze locked on the wall.

How could he expect me to eat after what he did? 

My mind screamed in defiance, but I said nothing. I just turned my face away from him, staring blankly out of the window.

"Aw, no need to ignore me," Damian said, his voice taking on a strange, sing-song quality. "I just got rid of the problem that was disturbing our peaceful lives."

Peaceful?

Is that what he thinks this is? Some twisted version of peace?

I could feel the anger bubbling up inside of me, but I didn't dare let it show. I stayed silent, refusing to give him the reaction he so clearly wanted.

A weird laugh escaped him, and I caught the glint of madness in his eyes as he moved off the bed. He began pacing back and forth, his footsteps soft against the floor, but his presence loomed large in the small space.

"It's okay, it's okay," he muttered to himself, his voice shaky yet oddly calm. "I'm patient... I'm kind... If I waited over twenty years for her, I can wait even longer."

Twenty years?

My mind reeled as I watched him pace through the reflection in the window. His obsession was deeper than I could have imagined. How long had he been planning this? How long had he been watching me?

"Okay, okay," he said after a few minutes, stopping his pacing and turning toward me. "I'll... give you some space."

I didn't respond, my body stiffening as I waited for him to leave. His footsteps faded down the hallway, and the door clicked shut behind him. Only when I was sure he was gone did I let out the breath I'd been holding. My whole body was tense, my heart pounding as if I'd just narrowly escaped danger.

This is how it's going to be, isn't it?

A game of survival.

He thinks he loves me, thinks he's patient and kind. But underneath all that, there's something darker—something that's waiting to surface the moment I push too far.

Hours passed, but I barely noticed. I remained still, my thoughts racing, my mind trying to grasp some shred of control in a situation that felt utterly hopeless. And then, he came back.

"You... still didn't eat," Damian said, disappointment clear in his voice.

He sounded almost hurt, like a child who had been ignored. I still didn't look at him, and I certainly didn't speak. It was like my voice had been stolen, trapped somewhere deep inside me.

He sighed, but this time it wasn't exaggerated or playful. It was a genuine sound of frustration. For a moment, I thought he might get angry, that his patience was wearing thin. But instead, he walked over and lifted the tray of untouched food.

"Come on," he said quietly, his voice softer than before. "Let's go outside for a bit. The rain's stopped."

I didn't move, didn't acknowledge him, but he took my arm gently and helped me out of bed. His grip was firm but not forceful, and despite the revulsion bubbling up inside me, I followed him. It wasn't like I had a choice.

He led me out into the garden, where the rain had soaked everything. The earth smelled fresh, and the trees dripped with water, their leaves shimmering in the soft light filtering through the clouds. It would have been beautiful if I weren't so hollow inside.

"Look at that," Damian said, gesturing toward the sky as we stepped outside. His tone was light, casual, as though this were just another day. "Doesn't the rain make everything feel... new? It's like the world gets a fresh start."

Fresh start?

I swallowed the bitter laugh that almost escaped me. How could he talk about new beginnings when my life had been shattered into a million pieces?

"I used to love the rain," he continued, oblivious to my silence. "I'd sit by the window and just watch it fall for hours. It always made me feel... calm."

I barely listened, my mind far away, drifting through memories of rainy days when I was younger. Days when I wasn't trapped in this nightmare. I used to love the rain too—until now.

Damian glanced at me, clearly hoping for some kind of response, but I gave him nothing. I couldn't. The words felt trapped inside me, unable to break free.

"You're quiet today," he said after a long pause. His voice had a slight edge to it now, though he tried to hide it.

What does he expect me to say? I wondered, staring blankly ahead.

Does he think we can pretend this is normal?

That he can kill people and then take me outside for some fresh air like nothing ever happened?

"I just want you to be happy," he said, his voice softer again, almost pleading. "I know it's hard right now, but I'll take care of you. I'll make sure you're safe. I promised, remember?"

Safe.

The word felt so wrong coming from him. I didn't feel safe. I felt trapped, suffocated by his delusions.

We stood in silence for a few more moments, the rain dripping from the leaves and the cool air brushing against my skin. And then, without a word, he led me back inside. He didn't push me to speak, didn't ask anything more. But I could feel his eyes on me the entire time, watching, waiting.

As I climbed back into bed, I could feel the walls closing in around me again. Damian tucked me in like before, his touch gentle, but I couldn't shake the darkness that clung to him. He smiled at me, that same unsettling smile that never reached his eyes.

"Tomorrow will be better," he said, as if willing it to be true. "You'll see."

I turned away from him, closing my eyes tightly as the door clicked shut behind him. But sleep didn't come easily. It felt like the weight of the world was pressing down on me, trapping me in a nightmare that I couldn't wake from.